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We’re continuing our look at Lifegivers: Framing the Birthparent Experience in Open Adoption. Chapter two is entitled: “What Kind of Woman…?” Taboo Breaking and the Pursuit of Worthiness. Sounds like a heavy chapter to me. Taboo breaking is no easy task!
The chapter starts out reiterating the question all birth mothers have been faced with and either fear or loathe. “What kind of woman could give her baby away?” The taboo associated with the question is that mothers and children belong together and that anyone who could depart from that bond is somehow and inherently flawed. The focus of the taboo is not on the circumstances that lead to the issue but on the person. The mother who places her child for adoption is seen as heartless, someone who doesn’t care.
Of course, those who believe in this taboo (or taboos in general) are usually “concrete thinkers,” who view everything in black-and-white instead of shades and variations in gray and color. I’ve deal with a few of those people myself! While the birth parent and the taboo-believing critic can’t often find similar ground to agree on, Gritter states it is because the two speak a different language. He goes on, pointing out a major flaw in those who hold the taboo to be true.
Ironically, while the concrete-thinking critic may also be opposed to abortion, early marriage, and simgle parenting – leaving no acceptable means of handling the situation – he or she is probably enthusiastic about the idea of worthy people adopting children. According to this logic, it’s all right for people to adopt children, it’s just not okay for parents to allow their children to be adopted.
Been there, seen that.
Gritter goes on to discuss comments that can often leave a birth parent feeling judged or “less than,” even when they are said with pure intent. He acknowledges that while it might be acceptable for someone completely untouched by adoption to say, “I could never do that,” to hear someone who should understand (perhaps, the adoptive family) say it is a kick in the gut. He also goes on in this section to talk about how birth parents fear answering the question of “how could you” when their child reaches an age to ask questions.
As he continues, he tries to set the issue of “love” and adoption straight. While many agencies and supporters tell expectant parents that adoption is the loving choice, as Gritter says, “this cheerful chatter feels like propaganda from folks with an agenda that is not especially tuned to the needs and realities of particular individuals.” He does state that adoption can be and often is about the love of a child, but not the candy-coated, happy-go-lucky love that the websites want to portray.
I do believe adoption can be a loving choice, but I am convinced this kind of love is not softa nd cute. It’s an awful form of love, a tough, tearful, costly version of love that rattles a person’s core. It has a lot more to do with midnight pacing and tear-smirched journals than with frilly affectations. This is the sort of devastating love that redefines a person’s life story, and it deserves far more than candy-coating.
He goes on to say that many birth parents don’t like being referred to as “heroic” and more than they want to be labeled as an unfit or uncaring mother. Most want to be acknowledged as normal people who made a hard decision. I know that’s how I would prefer to be viewed.
Gritter continues the chapter by talking about self-esteem and how, despite what we want for ourselves, our self-image is often shaped by society. We can be strong and say that we don’t care what people think but when all you hear is a negative undertone, it’s hard to feel good about yourself. He describes how this negative self-image can further affect future relationships, including ones of marriage, with the adoptive family and can sometimes even leave a birth mother feeling as though she doesn’t have a right to have any future children because of her “inadequacy” with the child she placed for adoption.
As he begins to close the chapter, he starts discussing how to overcome, or really, come to terms with the taboo. As he said, the concrete thinkers aren’t going to magically change their mind as they don’t speak a language that allows room for variation. However, using the taboo that mothers shouldn’t be separated from their children actually helps in the fight for openness. If mothers shouldn’t be separated, then the idea of openness should be well-accepted! (However, we know that not to be true as that would be a variation and variation is bad!)
As he finishes the chapter, he talks about birth parents needing to recover their own self-worth. While nothing will ever fill that hole of the missing child, success in other venues of life can help a birth parent realize that he/she is not a total failure in the grand scheme of things. In fact, he brings up an interesting way of looking at it.
Having made progress in other aspects of life, she may develop the confidence to work through the feelings connected to her adoption experience.
It takes a confident person to look at everything that has happened and make sense of it, that much is true. However, the flip side of it comes into play when a successful birth parent then asks, “If I’m so successful, why wasn’t I encouraged to parent my child in the first place.”
He encourages adoptive parents to encourage the birth mother as she works through her issues, stating that they should be among the most understanding of her allies. He also states that as the birth parent begins an actual relationship with the child, it can create a feeling of self-worth.
In the end, he assures the reader that the mother who “gives away” her child is not the heartless woman that society wants you to see. They, like adoption itself, are complex creatures deserving of respect.
We’ll talk about Chapter Three tomorrow.
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For more, read:
2. Beginning a Chapter Review of Lifegivers.
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Photo Credit: Book cover.
