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In part 1, I wrote about how even after so much time has past, I still am sometimes derailed by the fact of my son’s adoption. Since by nature I am one who cherishes life and enjoys a sunny disposition, it is startling to me when these dark moments appear. “A lover’s quarrel with the world” fits for my temporary times when darkness shatters my calm and love affair with the world.
What happened the other night, right before bedtime to push my sad button and disturb my ability to fall asleep? I read about a young woman’s surrender process and identified with her experience. As I read about how she loved and nurtured her child in the hospital for several days, I cringed. I knew only too well how this single experience would likely color her life for eternity.
The likely pain that she would find a daily part of her life made me ache for her and caused a huge swell of revulsion that no one would spare her. Not only would she not be forewarned of the likely consequences of her relinquishment,instead she would be cheered on and told that it would be okay.
The conclusion of the telling of her story quoted her six months after the loss of her child. She was okay still at that moment. She seemingly had accepted the loss of her child and was just fine. I hate stories like this one. They make me sad, angry and tempted to rage at the world. When I read something like this story, I want to cry, scream, rant and expose the lies of omission.
Women react to placing their child for adoption in different ways. I acknowledge that the affect is more severe for some than others. For women who love their babies and want to parent, however, eventually the raw truth usually catches up with them. When it does, it is ugly and hard.
What truth, you say? Couldn’t that young woman really be okay with her decision? Maybe, but it is highly unlikely that in six months that her loss had sunk in. Yet this type of story is regaled as a way to say that adoption in the end works out even for a birth mother. I consider it little more than propaganda used to convince the world that it is okay to encourage a woman to place her child for adoption.
Adoptive parents do not want to feel guilty. Society does not want to acknowledge the damage that adoptions sometimes wreak on its unsuspecting parties. Therefore, stories with happy ending abound. Are they lies or truth? It depends who is telling them I suppose.
P.S. Seeing tow-headed boy babes like the one in this photo are difficult for me too.
Society always does want the happy endings, doesn’t it? *sigh*
I used to be naive about birthmothers’ pain too, but I must have started to recognize their loss once we adopted Nate, although I don’t think it was on a conscious level at first. About a month before his first birthday, I felt this weird sadness and I honestly couldn’t place it until one day, I just broke down sobbing and realized that it was some kind of pain that Nate’s birthmother wouldn’t be sharing this with him and I had just an inkling of how much she had lost. It overwhelmed me and literally knocked me to my knees. Because here I had the privilege of being the mother to this wonderful, amazing kid and largely because she happened to live in a society where being an unwed mother makes the mother and her child completely ostracized (in fact, it was outlawed in Vietnam until 2000), she doesn’t get to have that privilege. That does break my heart.
Oh, Jan. You saw me get riled up on that one.
At six months post-placement, I still felt “fine.” Sad, yes. I hadn’t had my moment of realization just yet. I didn’t understand how that one act, signing my name to a piece of paper, would forever alter my reality, my perception, my life and my heart.
Six months is nothing in a lifetime. Maybe she will be happy. Actually, I pray that for her. Because it simply hasn’t been my experience. Or yours. Or a vast majority of the birthmothers I know, minus a handful.
Judy – yes, society does go for happy endings. Your sadness shows your humanity and compassion – that’s a good thing. Thanks for your comment.
“Moment of Realization” – I need to blog about that. Most of us do have them.
Reality…..I am a first mother and I was told, you are so brave, you are doing whats best for him. Now I am suffering bad…I feel loss, confusion, anger, pain, deception, and total dissappointment. This is 18 years later. I really related to what you said. Thanks Michele
Reality…..I am a first mother and I was told, you are so brave, you are doing whats best for him. Now I am suffering bad…I feel loss, confusion, anger, pain, deception, and total dissappointment. This is 18 years later. I really related to what you said. Thanks Michele