My Name Is...

     

 The definition of the word identity is "the fact of being who or what a person or thing is".  Usually, the first identity that we learn about each other is our name. But, we are so much more than just our names, aren't we?  What I have learned in my short, yet very long, 21 years of life, is that usually, people aren't ashamed of their first identity, their name. When we introduce ourselves, we lead with something along the lines of "Hi, I'm ______. Nice to meet you!" We take ownership of it. So, why then, are we ashamed of our other identities? We all have that one identity that we just keep locked up in the closet, or hidden under the bed. We feel a certain sense of shame about it. But we don’t have to. Everyone has got a past. Everyone has got a story. Yes, some identities may hurt, and some you may wish that you didn’t have. But you have to own it. Each and every single thing that you identify as, whether you are proud of it or try to hide it, has helped to shape you into the beautiful and incredible person you are. So, here is who I am.

I am a birth mom. I am a new wife. I am a step mom. I am a daughter and a sister. I am a student studying physical therapy. I am a little crazy and a little broken sometimes, but that’s okay because I think most of us are. I have made mistakes, but I am not defined by my mistakes.

The best “mistake” I ever made was getting pregnant 2 years ago, when I had just turned 19 days before. The birth father made it clear that parenting was not an option, but other than that, the decision was mine to make. I still laugh about that. I felt very alone in my pregnancy. Even though I was in a relationship with the birth dad, lets call him Paul, I still felt incredibly alone during my pregnancy. Paul and I had just moved to the very center of Philadelphia so that he could go to school. I basically gave up everything and followed him there so he could be my support system. I guess the idea was better in my head than it ended up being in real life.

By early October of 2013, when I was just a few weeks pregnant, I was feeling really alone and desperate for answers. I hadn’t told anybody but Paul at this point, not even my parents. I was in a dark place and just had no idea what to do. I didn’t have insurance, I didn’t have a doctor, and I really couldn’t afford to be pregnant without those things. Since day 1, I wanted the very best for my baby. I hoped that the best could be me, but without the support from Paul, which he refused to give me, I knew I wasn’t enough. That night, I just felt so stuck. I needed something to click, to make sense. I just laid in bed thinking for hours. I needed some kind of sign for what to do next.

I got my sign. Weeks before this day, I was scrolling through Facebook and remembered seeing something that my cousin had posted. She posted a link to a website and said that one of her coworkers was looking to adopt, and she was helping him get the word out. I didn’t think anything of it when I saw it at a quick first glance, I don’t even think I comprehended it. I really never considered adoption until that exact moment, on October 1^st, 2013, when I remembered what I had seen. I immediately called my cousin and said “don’t worry, this isn’t about me, but I was wondering if you knew who these people personally who are looking to adopt”. She told me she did, and told me a little bit about their family and how great they are. So I spent a long time looking through their website. It was now pretty late in the evening, but I sent them an email telling then who I was and about my situation. I prayed that they would contact me back somehow that evening, because honestly, that was our last hope.

They did. Days later, they drove to Philly from their home in Manhattan and sat with Paul and me in a local park for hours. It was the most uncomfortable “first date” in the world at first, but it quickly became very natural and I think we all fell in love with each other. After that day, I felt relieved. I knew my child would be okay. I honestly had the thought of “wow, I wish these guys were MY parents."

I think we all have moments in our life when we can pinpoint a change. The moment I met the future adoptive parents, everything changed. I didn’t feel so alone anymore. I was still terrified, but now of different things, things that I could handle. That day, I stopped being an “I”. Now it was a “we”.

My adoption story is far from perfect, and I feel sad about it very often. But as often as I’m sad and hurt by it, I’m so incredibly grateful for it. Before my son, I was lost. I let my mistakes and my pain define who I was. I have learned so much from striving to be great for him. He is my motivation, my courage, and the reason I’m a fighter now. One day, I’m going to meet this beautiful boy that I created through more than just pictures. I will be able to stand up before him, and tell him all that I am now because of him.

Now, I am strong. I have determination and drive. I am his birth mom. I am a wife to the best husband I could have dreamed of, and a step mom to a crazy but beautiful little girl. I am someone who has big dreams and never gives up hope, even when it’s hard to find. These are my identities. The good ones and the bad ones. This is who I am, and I’m proud of it.

My name is Jackie and I'm a new blogger here at BirthMom Buds. 

Birthfather's Family

When Noah and I first locked eyes
(To this day I have never felt love like that)

I found out a couple months ago that Noah's birthfather was going to have another child with his girlfriend.  My thoughts? Shock, anger, curiosity, and most of all...I feel helpless.  I do not even know if his girlfriend knows about Noah.  Will their child grow up not knowing that she has a half sibling just 1 state away?

These unanswered questions are so tough.  I cope with them by not allowing myself to get to involved mentally.  I did tell the A-parents, only because I wanted Noah to know if he ever asked them.  I still don't know if I should send them a picture when she (its a girl) is born.  The birthfather has no relationship with the A -parents so I feel like my role is the messenger...which is not okay.

Adoption is a complicated, beautiful, sad, joyous thing.  There are two sides.  Each side includes all of these emotions.  I hope Noah grows up and eventually has a relationship with his half siblings (both on mine and the birthfather's side).  I have to accept that I can only do so much, which is a very hard thing to accept because I love my son more than I thought I could love anyone or anything.

Ending with a fun fact...I found out that our sweet baby's fingerprints were created by them tapping (or hitting) our wombs while we were pregnant.  How cool is that?!

Father's Day

Father's Day is this Sunday.  While Mother's Day is difficult and a tough day to get through us, for my best friend and the father of my child, Father's Day is just as difficult.  Often we talk about our experience as birthmothers and what that means and does to us.  This one time, I want to talk about my son's birthfather, A.

A and I were dating when I got pregnant.  At first, we were terrified.  We had no idea what we were going to do and neither of us were in a good position to raise a child.  We talked, and we talked, and we said just about everything you should say and shouldn't say in order to do this and stay in a relationship.  But we kept talking.

It all came to a head when we got back to his mother's house after going to my friend's wedding.  He asked me again what we were going to do as he put a hand to my swollen belly.  I finally said to him,

"I'm 75% certain that adoption is the right idea.  It's just..."  The thing about A and I, we can finished each other's sentences.  So he replied,

"It's just the 25% gets loud?"

"It gets so loud," I said tearing up.  This was our decision.  The majority ruled.  Our son was going to be placed for adoption.  Then we thought up a name because we do everything backwards.

I was at the hospital with just my mother the first night.  The next morning A arrived with his mother. He stayed with me through the next two days of labor. He held my hand in the OR when they performed a c-section on me.  Once we both heard J crying, I saw A's eyes tear up and even from behind the mask I knew he was smiling.  I have pictures of him in the hospital holding J.  They are some of the best pictures that I have of him.  He stayed two more days.  And he held my hand as I signed the surrender papers; the same papers he had signed just a few days prior.

A has seen our son two more times: once when J was about three months old and again when J was almost a year old.  He hasn't seen him since then.  J is about to be five.  But I want to make this clear: this isn't due to a lack of care on his part.  More a matter of caring too much.  Seeing J is a torture to him.  Placing our son for adoption was the hardest thing both of us have had to do thus far, and he has dealt with it much more slowly than I have.  He is getting better.  During the last few visits, I've sent pictures to his phone instead of just his email at his request.  Every time he is stunned at how big J is and how great he looks.  One day I hope he can have a visit with our son again.  And J's adoptive parents have been amazingly understanding about this.  I've explained the situation and their words were simply, when he's ready, just let us know and we'll set up a visit.

I know not everyone has this experience.  And I think it's unfortunate that so many men turn away from their children and just don't want to know.  But those men who do acknowledge their children and love them even from afar, suffer as much as we do.  One thing I've had to do again and again since this has happened, is defend A.  I don't like that I have to do it, but I do it because it should be done, because he does deserve to be defended, because he is still my best friend who went with me through hell, and because when all else fails he's the only one in the world who knows what it's like to miss our son, J.

This Sunday, I'll tell him Happy Father's Day, just as he wished me Happy Mother's Day last month.  And I'll thank my lucky stars once again that I have him in my life.

Visits

Hello there everybody!

I have been very busy these last few weeks with school and work and somehow in all the chaos I got to have an amazing visit with my daughter who just turned one last month.

This was my third visit since she was born and the weeks and days leading up are always nerve wracking. It has been about seven months since our last one, so we were all pretty nervous. This time the visit was going to be even more stressful because it was going to be a lot larger. My boyfriend and I were going to be accompanied by my mother and his mother. The plan was that our parents could meet her at a coffee shop for a little while and then my boyfriend, the adoptive parents, E and I could go to an aquarium.

Our parents have been very flip floppy on this whole adoption. My mother started out crazy and by the birth she understood my decision. My boyfriend's mother started out extremely supportive and then by the end was going crazy. She oh so conveniently forgot that she was not going to be able to go to the aquarium with us and she would have to leave after the coffee shop. She has had a lot of these moments in the last year and somehow she can make everything about her. I'ts frustrating and I could go on about that for days, but I won't bore you guys with that.

We ended up having an amazing visit. Of course there were a few bumps in the road with my boyfriends mom pretty much demanding that we open the presents with E instead of having her open them later. Anyone who has visits understands how scary and nerve wracking it can be. I never want to do anything to make her adoptive parents uncomfortable because they are her parents and even though we have a contract, they are the ones who help make the visits and the pictures happen.

My boyfriend's mom didn't make a scene and after some uncomfortable small talk we all felt comfortable. We got to take her out to an amazing day of fun and I got to see my eyes and lips on another little person. It is an amazing feeling to see yourself in someone else in pictures, but seeing this in person after waiting so long is indescribable.


Open adoption for me is amazing but I know that there are so many of us out there who never had that option. We all made the choices we thought were right at the time so you should never make yourself feel upset. My new philosophy for life is "everything happens for a reason". I am not religious so saying this makes me feel good at the end of the day.When I saw my daughter I knew that this placement and her birth had all happened for a reason. She was meant to be here and they were meant to be her parents.

I am wishing you guys all a happy and healthy new year!

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Extracting Humor and Joy

"Henry."

"Henry?"

"Yes, Henry.  You have a problem with Henry?"

"Why do you want to call him Henry?"

"Because then I can call him Indiana!"

Realization hits me.  My son's biological father is actually arguing for fan service when trying to decide on our child's name.  The child who ten minutes ago we decided we should place for adoption because that's the best thing that we can do for this kid still living in my belly.  We're famous for doing things backwards.  So, of course, we decide to place our child for adoption and then we start arguing about the name that he should have.

"We're not naming him Henry!"

"Then we're naming him Indiana!"

"No!!  This is not happening!"

This argument went on like this for about ten minutes before his mother came out of her bedroom to determine what we were shouting and laughing about.  After adding her disapproval to the pile of objections I had just spouted, he finally asks,

"Okay, fine.  What do you want to name him?"

"The only name I've ever had for a boy is J. P."  He thinks for a second.

"Why do you have that name?"

"Because every girl has done this at some point and because that was the name I was going to have if I was a boy.  J. P. is my great-grandfather's name."

"I like J.  I just don't like P."

"Okay, fine!  We can compromise on this.  What's his middle name then?"  He looks to his little brother who is slumped in a recliner after laughing at us for the past twenty minutes.

"Why don't we name him after my brother?  His middle name is N."

"J. N.  Okay.  Yeah.  I like it."

"Alright, there.  We have a name."  He sits down on the couch next to me and for the tenth time that day rubs my swollen belly trying to feel our kid moving around.

"What about a girl's name?"  *sigh*

I'll save you the suspense and tell you that the hilarious part is that we decided on a girl's name in about a minute flat.  But we had a boy on our hands.  So the girl's name was never needed.

About two weeks later, I was sitting in a room at the adoption agency with my boyfriend, my boyfriend's mother, my mother, my birth counselor, J's future parents, their adoption counselor, and I believe at least one other birth counselor.  All of us packed into one tiny room with a tiny fountain that didn't work.

"We have a name picked out for him," I say with some trepidation.  "It's up to you if you want to keep it.  But we do have a name."

"What is it?" they asked.

"J. N.  It's a combination of family names; one from mine and one from his."  They surprised me immediately when they liked the name and kept it.  At the time, his future dad said,

"If we had gotten pregnant and had gone through the whole process, we probably would have thought of something.  But I like that name.  It's good.  It's a good name."

A few weeks prior I had said to my mother after a particularly long and insane wait at the car rental place,

"Mother, you have to extract joy from life where you can!"

So, after making the most painful decision of our lives, we laughed as we argued over a name.  When meeting the people who we would give our child to, we found that they were happy to keep the name we had so hilariously argued over two weeks ago.  It is still his name.  It still reminds me of a hilarious twenty minute argument and it still makes me smile.  In situations like this, you must find joy and humor where you can.  It may look crazy to those on the outside.  But when shared with those closest to you, it will bind you together and comfort you when you just feel like busting apart and sending everyone away from you.

So, yes, his name is still J. N.  And it still makes me smile.

Baby Daddy? Baby Daddy, Who?

TGIF, ladies! Hope you had a great week.

As I sit here, cuddling up with my cats, I often imagine I'm cuddling with Micah's bio dad. Even though everyone says "you're better off without him," I can't help but think how much different my life would be if he didn't turn out to be such a butthead. 

Now, I suppose I should give you a little background on bio dad. I met him in 2010 at a friend's house. As soon as he walked in, I was in lust. He was about 5'7, blonde hair, blue eyes, and muscles.. oh his muscles. He was my perfect guy. We hit it off right away. Even though I was 16 and he was 22, we pretty much became best friends right away. We had SO much in common! When I got home, I knew I had just met my soul mate. Buuuut, life doesn't make it that easy for us, does it? 

As the weeks went on, we grew closer and closer. I was almost positive he was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. So one night I get a text from baby daddy asking me if I wanted to come over and watch movies. He told me he had a surprise for me. I was like, "uh heck yes!" But of course I played it off all cool. "Tonight? Umm.. Yeah, I guess I can make it." 

I showed up at his house at around 10pm. I knocked on the door and when he answered it and gave me a huge hug. "This is it.. He's going to ask me," I thought. I sat down on the couch and he wrapped his arms around me. "What's my surprise?" I asked. "I have the house to myself tonight. No one's home." "So we're going down this route..." I thought. He smelled sooo good, so I honestly didn't even care. Shallow, I know. But I was 16! 

Now, baby daddy already had a 5 year old son from a previous relationship. Long story short, the baby momma sent crazy so he has partial custody of him for 6 months out of the year. It just so happens that baby daddy's 5 year old baby was home and his crib was in baby daddy's room.. Awkward. It killed the mood for about 30 seconds but he smelled soooooooo goooooodddd!!! So off we went. The magical night ended with a smack on the butt and a polite push out the door. "Wow... That was special," I said, sarcastically. "What did you expect was going to happen? Actual movies?" Yeah, kind of.. :/ 

About a month later, baby daddy got a girlfriend and our friendship evaporated. I felt like someone had just died.. Oh yeah, it was my hopes and dreams. In October, baby daddy's girlfriend found out she was pregnant. Slightly devastated, I called him just to "check in". Us women know that means, "I miss you so much, but I can't let you know that I think about you all the time, so I'm going to pretend that I'm happy for you even though I want to scream my face off." He ignored my call and then proceeded to never call me again. When I found out I was pregnant in March, he completely lost it. I texted him a picture of all 5 of my positive  pregnancy tests and even the picture of the ultrasound. His response? "You obviously photoshopped all of that. I don't know why you're trying so hard to get me back." Now this time, I was completely devastated. 

Needless to say, baby daddy has not been involved with anything having to do with Micah, or me for that matter. Unless you  count signing adoption papers. It's been a horrible time in my life, but you just have to move on. As a 15 month old, I never would've thought Micah would be a middle child. But he is. Life happens. 

How is your relationship with your child's biological father?

The Tornado of Adoption

The other day, Rebecca of "Love Is Not a Pie" was telling me about a dream that she had last night about a tornado and how she was yelling at people who were cheering because the tornado missed them.  How could people be glad about a tornado missing them when it was ripping apart others' lives, after all?  She then mentioned that tornadoes have connections to adoption too, and that inspired me to do some thinking.

As a birth mom I could say that when I relinquished my daughter I was saving her from a tornado.  I was saving her from a life I didn't want for her and giving her a life outside that tornado.  I saw the tornado barreling right into my path and instead of subjecting her to that life inside the tornado of emotions and life turmoil, I put her in a place where I thought she would be safe from that.  I'm not saying that I believe she won't have any mini tornadoes of turmoil in her own life.  I don't think that's possible.  But exposing her to the tornado of my life the way it was then and is now is something that I can and did prevent.

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When I saved Mack from the tornado, I exposed myself to a new tornado of emotions.  This tornado will always be there.  Sometimes I'm in the eye of the tornado.  Things are calm, and I can see blue skies.  I can even concentrate on those blue skies by looking up and not focusing on the tornado whirling just out of my immediate reach.  But tornadoes are out of my control.  They capture me again and whirl me around in the confusion and grief.  There's nothing I can do about those emotions but hold on to the hope that I will be in the eye again soon.  This is a lifetime tornado, always passing in and out of the eye.

When I'm in the eye I can also concentrate on helping other people caught in their own tornadoes, their own whirlwinds of emotion, confusion, and grief.  I know the pain and loss they endure because my tornado is similar.  I know the destructive emotions that feel like they're never going to end or even take a break.  These emotions inspire me to speak out for ethical adoptions and to use my blog as my positive voice for truly open adoptions.  Part of the reason I speak out is because I know the tornado and I want those who step into those tornadoes to be stepping in with both eyes open, not because they were coerced by the adoption industry as a whole to do so.

The firsthand knowledge of the tornado is why I have a difficult time with anyone who likes adoption but who doesn't speak out for adoptee access to their original birth certificates or with the industry people that are gleeful when parents relinquish their rights to their babies without appreciating the heavy burden of the tornado these parents enter.  I don't think that I've ever met any parent through adoption who has not ached with their child's birth parent or parents when relinquishment takes place.  They sympathize with the whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions because they can put themselves in that spot, so this is not directed at them.  However, in such a spot, seeing the industry so focused on parents relinquishing babies, I want to scream out at them.  I want to shout that these parents are not entering the tornado to save your job, to redirect the tornado, so to speak.  They're entering that tornado, and should be doing so willingly, to redirect that tornado from their children.

So I continue to shout over the tornadoes of self-importance and of selfishness.  Adoption is not a selfish decision for the parents of those babies, and it shouldn't be about the selfishness of the people pushing for adoption either.

Birth Dads

I decided this week to write the other half of my story. Without my husband's support I would not have had the courage to write for everyone to read.  He is our birthson's biological father and sometimes it seemed like his feelings and thoughts were not really important.  We have been together since 1988 and been married since 2007.  When my husband first came home and told me our birthson was looking for us, I was hysterical.  As time went by and things got a little emotional, I just couldn't grasp WHY my husband was handling this a whole lot better than I was.  He went to work everyday and never complained.  To me it seemed it just didn't really bother him what was happening in our lives.  In reality he was an emotional wreck inside just like me, but he just didn't express it to me or anyone else.

He actually talked to and visited with our birthson before I did and he didn't tell me until the day before he was coming to meet me.  My husband was so thrilled and happy to talk to and meet our son.  After 20 years of not knowing where he was or either of us speaking of what had happened, we finally had to face reality.  It was exciting but also very scary for me.  I guess what I am getting at here is that birth fathers need to be acknowledged.  They need to know that their feelings and emotions are important and that someone will understand and know what your feeling.

Our adoption was closed and unfortunately the way it happened, he was not involved in the process.  I don't mean he didn't want to be, my family just excluded him from whatever was going on.  I think that is unforgivable and wrong.  He was treated as if he wasn't even important, although he tried to voice his opinions.  NO ONE listened to him, they just didn't care.

I wrote this today because of the journey my husband and I share together for the rest of our lives.  I am so grateful to have him in my life, without him I probably would of lost my mind.  He is strong, kind, and has been my rock through this whole process.  He gets me through days I think I just can't make it through.  Someone like him needs to be recognized and he deserves to have his voice heard.  So when I read the blog, Dylan's Story and Birth Father Support I just knew I had this responsibility to my husband to write this.  I logged on to the Birth Fathers Recognized site and read the four posts that were there.  It was really nice to read from a birth father's side.  I always wondered what they felt before, during, and after this process.

Every birth father out there needs to be able to write and express what is going on in their lives.  I am sure over time, that site will have hundreds of birth dad's expressing and sharing just like us birthmoms do. Opening up for a lot of guys is not an option.  I mean they are men, and men keep things inside.  For me as a birthmom, blogging and sharing is healing.  It is a great comfort to know what I write is being read and understood by the one's reading them and I hope the birth fathers get the same comfort from blogging also.

I wrote this for my husband and also to thank Dylan for his courageous step of creating his site for birth father's. Birth Fathers get left out and no one really discusses what they are going through.  My husband and I talk about this and how he was never really a part of nor did anyone (my family) go to him and talk to him.  He was just ignored and treated as a outsider.  Very sad I must say, but Birth Fathers Recognized is one step that I hope will help him heal also.  Anyone out there reading this and knows of a birth dad, please, give them this link because I think it is going to help a lot of guys out there.  I want you to remember if you have a husband or boyfriend or fiance that acts like he is okay, remember this: they are suffering, grieving, and feeling guilty just like us.

I know I am not the only birthmom still with her child's the birth father.  Does your husband/fiance/boyfriend ever express his feelings to you and if he does what do you tell him?

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Superman and Adoption

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No, I’m not speaking of Smallville.  I’m going to be talking today about the old Superman movies with Christopher Reeve as the star.  I know you’re probably wondering how this relates to adoption, but I will show you.

When Superman’s story begins, he’s an infant.  We find him on his home planet, Krypton.  His parents Jor-El and Lara put him in a pod to save him from Krypton’s impending explosion.  Then we see them no more.  The planet explodes in the reflection and view from the escaping pod.  The next we see of Superman is his pod crash landing in the Kent’s farm fields, where what will become Superman’s adoptive father finds him and takes him in.

Let’s explore some of the negative adoption stereotypes that were perpetrated by a storyline like that.  Superman’s parents didn’t abandon him.  They actually knew his life was in danger and did the best thing they could to save him, which was to send his pod out into space and hope he landed on a friendly planet.  This is much how birth parents today are still viewed.  People take negative stereotypes about parents who lose their kids to foster care and place them upon parents who make that relinquishment decision at birth.  They also assume that we’re abandoning our children, even if we’re actually doing the best thing we can think of doing for our children.  This may not be literally saving them from a threatening living situation, or an expectant mother may feel her child is in literal danger if she parents that child.  However, when Mr. Kent finds the baby, the assumption is that the baby has been abandoned by his parents.

The second stereotype perpetuated by the storyline is that adoption is a charitable decision by the adoptive parents.  When Mr. Kent finds the baby in the field, the emphasis placed on the “poor, abandoned baby” makes it seem like the Kents are heroes for taking in the child no one knows a thing about and raising him as their own.  This stereotype was widely known and acknowledged in the baby scoop era where all adoptive parents were painted as heroes for adopting a stranger’s baby.  Once the feeling of being heroes had passed, the fact of adoption was then promptly covered over by adoptive parents trying to raise these kids as their biological children.  Some adoptions still happen that way today.  But adoption should happen with respect to the child’s biological roots too.  I’m certain you would agree.

Superman grows up feeling different and when he starts blooming in his powers, he figures out why he feels that way.  Even though the Kents raised Superman in the way they felt he should be raised, because they knew nothing about his biology they couldn’t encourage that side of him.  That’s one of the many benefits of open adoption.  Not only does the adoptive family have access to medical history, but they have ongoing access to at least the birth mom’s personality.  If the Kents had access to Superman’s biological parents, they would’ve known he had many special powers and he wouldn’t have had to search for who he was like he did.

However, despite all the negatives, there’s one overwhelming truth.  Superman’s birth parents made the best decision they could with the information they had at the time.  They gave him the best life they could picture for him and after all, isn’t that what birth parents do for their kids?

What Happens Next?

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Most parents when they relinquish their child have very few ideas of how things should progress.  They may have fantasies of things they imagine doing with their child and his or her parents.  They may be so caught up in the grief and the rapid successions of events that come with birth and placement that they feel too overwhelmed to think about what their role might be now that they’re not that child’s sole caregiver anymore.

 James Gritter in his book “Lifegivers: Framing theBirthparent Experience in Open Adoption,” states that parenting involves three parts.  Those three parts are giving life, sustaining life, and affirming life.  So how does this apply to adoption and what specifically does that mean?

When someone gets pregnant and is in a place to raise that child from birth to independence, the above-mentioned parts of parenting have no clear lines.   Giving life, sustaining life, and affirming life are all the responsibility of that parent or those parents.  If someone gets pregnant and decides to relinquish that child to an open adoption, those roles suddenly seem murkier.  Giving life is clearly the role of the birth parent.  Sustaining life becomes the responsibility of the adoptive parent.  But what about the third part – the life affirmation?

That is the responsibility of both the birth parent and the adoptive parent.  We know it’s easy to show we love them.  Physical affection, gifts, and words are all fairly easy to express.  But that’s not all that a birth parent needs to provide when it comes to affirmation.  You may be wondering how it’s possible to provide more affirmation than just loving your child.  While that’s important and necessary, James Gritter continues the thought by saying, “Some birthparents believe their job is done when they select effective adoptive parents and entrust them with the responsibilities of daily care, but an active lifegiver believes there is much more to be accomplished.  An involved lifegiver carefully selects the most appropriate adoptive family and continues to endorse and support them as caregivers through the years.  This support is, of course, appreciated by the adoptive parents, but even more importantly, it helps the child feel secure about the permanence of his adoption.(pg 158)"

We support our choice of adoptive parents for our child by making it clear to them and to our child that they are the parents.  That not only increases their confidence as parents and in us as birth parents, but it increases our child’s confidence and self-esteem as well.  That is more affirming to our child as a person than any gift we could give.

I actually wrote a post similar to this on my own blog as well, and had an adoptive mom comment that her child’s birth mom keeps making comments to her child about wishing he was living with her instead of his parents.  While it’s okay to say we miss our child and wish that things could’ve been different to allow us to raise our kids, we need to add that we’re not in that situation and now they have three parents that love them instead of just one, or four instead of two if your child’s birth father is still involved.  Validating that we do miss our kids is important.  It can help them feel okay for missing us too.  It’s also okay to express regret that things can’t be different.  But if we don’t validate our child’s parents in the same discussion then we can add to our child’s confusion about who he or she is.  It also doesn’t give our child permission to love his parents like all children should.

Life affirmation is not always an easy task and one that should be agreed upon by all parties involved.  But it’s so important to your child.  I realize that some of you don’t have open adoptions so this wouldn’t be applicable.  But for those who do, I urge you to take a closer look at the affirmation role in parenting.

Dylan's Story & Birthfather Support

I often have Birthmothers who are still involved with their child’s Father email  and ask if I know of any websites or support similar to BirthMom Buds and sadly, I always have to respond with no.

I’m happy to announce that there is finally something out there for birthfathers! Dylan, a birthfather in an open adoption, has created a website and place of support for birthfathers called Birth Fathers Recognized. 

As a way of introducing his website, I’ve asked Dylan to share his story with our readers. So without further adieu, I give you Dylan’s story in his own words….. 

Most people walk the line society shows them; without trying to I gave myself a detour that changed my life forever. In one year most high school students grow some but not as much as I did after hearing, “It’s positive”. I was an indestructible young fool then, but life always will come at you like a train when you least expect it. I heard those words and my heart sank to the floor. I’ve grown more than any other person I know in those nine months of my life, I became a father, and a protector; but the most outstanding change I went through was my transformation to a hero to my daughter. I made a decision nobody should have to make in their lifetime; the decision to give up a child.

But I had my parents, my girlfriend, and her parents all supporting my love and I in the decision that now gives me a reason to live, a reason to thrive, and of all things a reason to succeed. I gave up my child that day to the greatest, most genuine people I’ve ever met, and it’s that reason that I now have a beacon to succeed that glows brighter than anyone else’s. I gave her a better life in order for all of us to thrive and that is who I became and who I will always be, a father for a child in another family’s hands; a child that is never gone and that I will never say good bye to.

My new life after the birth of my child has only one purpose: succeed in everything I do so that when I see her as she grows up she will know that she is loved and the love of a parent to a child can never be stopped, and never will; only redirected. College is my next step in life. A step most people take before having their first child but that is who I’ve become and that page in my life that turned a few years early drives my heart to be the greatest man that I can be. I learned what true strength and chivalry is; it’s not doing what’s best for yourself but what is best for those you affect. The first nights back to reality without my daughter were met with silent tears, but those tears accomplished nothing and it was those tears that became the driving force to live life with success in mind.

My success is not for selfish reasons however, money does not drive me to study computer science, fame does not drive me to become someone, my daughter drives me and my love for her that will flow endlessly drives me to be a success in life. My future, however, is not for myself; I must release my potential so that I may shine as a beacon to my daughter as brightly as she shines to me. Life does not follow a plan life takes its turns whenever it wishes, and it turned around me like I never expected, it was that day when I still was months away from being seventeen, almost a year and a half from adulthood that I gained purpose and helped bring a new, plentiful, inextinguishable spirit into this world. The fire of my daughter’s heart rekindled mine. I grew more in twenty four hours than I had in sixteen years and those twenty four rekindled my spirit to reach my intellectual limits and shatter them. I live to show my daughter that no matter what life gives you there is no limit to what you can achieve.

It's now been 21 months, and in those months everything had its ups and downs. The first of my story was written and finished within a month of my daughter's birth, since then there has been almost too much change. I've watched my daughter grow from a small baby in the hospital into an active and smart 21 month old toddler. The months after the placement my fiancee and I had four visits that I can luckily remember vividly, it was after the fourth visit that things got harder, that was the visit we learned that because the adoptive father is a contract engineer, they had to move from southern California to North Carolina. When it came time to move it was the saddest time I've experienced, we were able to help them pack and spent our entire spring break doing so, the time was something we cherished and multiple days we arrived in the middle of the day and left close to or after midnight. Each day was more bittersweet until the final day, it took us another half hour after leaving their house and getting in the car to leave. We sat down and just started crying, our world was changing again; our little girl would no longer be half and hour away making visits possible every month or so, our little girl was moving to the other side of the country and we wouldn't see her until her first birthday.

And that is the last time we have been able to spend time with her. From time to time we will find a day to video chat but even though it is obvious our daughter knows who we are it doesn't fill the gap of being able to physically be there and spend time with her. The last time I was able to spend time with my daughter she was crawling around and starting to get close to walking, now 9 months later she is walking and babbling and talking, and although it's a blessing I can see her at all; it is painful not knowing if I will see her this summer for her second birthday. 

With all these events, and my fiancée finding support from BirthMom Buds, I decided to start Birth-fathers Recognized in my senior year of high school to create a place for birth fathers to share their stories, be there to support each other, and for everyone else involved in adoption and for people outside the world of adoption to be able to read and understand what birthfathers go through and make a means for change that allows birthfathers to be noticed in a world where everyone assumes the father in an unplanned pregnancy either runs away or wants to pressure the birthmother into a different choice than her original intentions.

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Titles Sometimes = Gray Areas

In my personal experience, I've found that adoption language is a little more than difficult to navigate. It's really not black and white, and there are so many gray areas (I ALMOST said so many shades of gray, probably because I've heard so much about that book lately!), which can cause people to walk on eggshells. Not just friends and family of birth parents or adoptive parents, but the birth parents and adoptive parents themselves. For example, I will always think of my little girl as my daughter. I know I signed my parental rights away, but I will always think of her that way.  I have never referred to her as my birth daughter, because personally, it doesn't feel right to me. Not that it isn't - I'm just not comfortable with it, whereas another birth mom may be comfortable with it.

My daughter's mom always refers to me as her birth mom, which is completely fine. I personally do not love the term, but I do prefer it over 'first mom,' or 'natural mom,' because the first makes it sound as if her adoptive mom comes second, and the latter makes it sound as if her adoptive mom is 'unnatural' - neither of which are things I believe. I get conflicted at times, because I refer to her adoptive mom simply as her "mom." While I recognize that I am not actively our daughter's "mommy," sometimes I wish we could both simply be called "mother." Sometimes adding adjectives adds conflict. (I have a habit of analyzing words, if you couldn't tell).

For Arianna's birthday, Jared* (*not her birthdad's real name) signed her card, 'your loving father,' which her mom and dad didn't take too well to. They were friendly and polite, but asked him not to refer to himself that way, as her dad who is raising her earns that title. She would prefer he signed it 'your loving birth father.' She gave me the heads up that she was going to be writing to Jared to tell him, which I appreciated, and I completely took her side. He does not deserve the same title or recognition that her daddy does! However, after speaking to him about it, and seeing how hurt he was, I started to see his side as well. At the end of the day, he is still her father -- no, not her "daddy," -- but without him being her father in the first place, her adoptive dad wouldn't have that title (not to sound overly self-righteous - because I'm not like that). Now the situation has blown over, but I'm still floating somewhere between seeing his side and also completely understanding hers. This is what I mean about the "gray" areas.

Have you run into any of these "gray" areas head-on throughout your adoption experience? If so, how did you handle them?  Are you able to "keep the peace?"

September 11th Anniversary

This post was previously posted on September 11, 2009 but in light of the 10 year anniversary of the September 11th attacks on our country, I thought it would be fitting to re-post it. 


Every year on the anniversary of the September 11th attacks on our country, like many others, I find myself re-living those moments of where I was when I found out about the attack on our country. Eight months pregnant with a baby boy I was about to place for adoption and on bed rest, I sat on my couch in disbelief as I watched the towers fall to the ground. In the days that followed, I watched some of the constant coverage. Amongst the tragedy there were stories of triumph and courage as Americans rose above the tragedy to help one another.

If you watched any of the coverage in the days and weeks following the attacks you may remember hearing the name Tom Burnett. He was one of the heroes aboard Untied Flight 93. You may remember that passengers overtook Flight 93 and caused it to land in a field in Pennsylvania. Tom Burnett, who grew up a Minnesotan, was flying home to California from a business trip to New York and is thought to be one of the people who attacked the cockpit which caused the plane to divert its path and crash in a field. Tom called his wife Deena multiple times from the plane telling her what was going on and that he loved her and the three daughters they were raising.

So, you are probably thinking, “Ok, I know all this already…”

But, did you know Tom Burnett was a birthfather?

While in college, Tom Burnett’s then girlfriend became pregnant in an unplanned pregnancy. The two were opposed to abortion and initially wanted to get married and parent. Tom was very involved in the pregnancy, working two jobs to pay for medical bills and present for his daughter’s birth. Eventually, the two decided it would be best for the baby if she was placed for adoption.

Two years after the terrorist attacks, Mariah Mills, turned nineteen and was finally old enough to request her original birth certificate from the state. The name Tom Burnett was very familiar in her area and she quickly realized that her birthfather was one of the 9/11 hereos.

Unsure of what Tom’s wife, Deena, and the rest of his family knew about the adoption and how they would feel about this, Mariah’s mother sent word through the agency that had handled Mariah’s adoption that Mariah was interested in meeting her other birth relatives. It turns out that Tom had told his wife about the daughter he placed for adoption and even showed her a letter that he had been writing to Mariah over the years in the hopes that they would one day be reunited.

Mariah has ended up meeting most of her birth family, including Deena, Tom’s daughters, parents, and sisters. She has been welcomed in by most of them. She has ongoing relationships with her half sisters and Deena. She has gotten to know the type of man and father Tom Burnett was through his family and Deena was even able to give her a letter that Tom had started writing to Mariah when she was younger for the day they would be reunited.

I love this quote from a newspaper article by Tom's (birth) daughter, Maraiah, “Even if he’d never been on that plane on September 11th, he’d still be a hero to me. He gave me life and a chance with a wonderful family.”


I know that Tom Burnett was probably not the only birthparent who lost their life that day and he certainly was not the only one with a direct connection to adoption either. Today, I'm remembering and thinking of all those and their families who lost their lives on September 11th, 2001. 


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Father's Day, A Standing Stone in my Journey

Have you ever heard of a "standing stone"? There are so many standing stones in my journey through the world of birthmothering. In the Bible, a standing stone was a literal stone or group of stones set up as a physical witness to something specific that the Lord had done.

In the book of Joshua, for example, God's people took the Ten Commandments into the Promised Land. They had to cross the Jordan River which was at flood stage. Incredibly, the Lord stopped the flow of the river and all the Israelites crossed on dry ground.

After all the people were through the river, God said, "Choose twelve men from among the people, one from each tribe, and tell them to take up twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan...and carry them over with you and put them down at the place where you stay tonight." (Joshua 4:2-3)

God had them leave a physical reminder to his miracle.

For me, Father's Day 1993 is a standing stone. It had been six years since my daughter's birth. I had graduated from high school and was about to graduate from college. Life was pretty good although I struggled to 'keep the secret' of my birthdaughter. But on the inside, I was still filled with hate and rage, anger, hurt, and, well, you get the idea. I still had a long way to go in my healing.

I can't tell you what the message was about that morning in church, but in my head I heard an audible voice say, "Forgive him." Through my tears I quietly asked, "Are you CRAZY?" and then proceeded to remind God of all the ways K had hurt me. Now, it's important to note that I had no contact with the birthfather. He was not part of my life. But I was angry like I had just seen him.

God got through to me that day and after many tears I did forgive K, or at least I gave him over to God for probably the first time. That day marked a major milestone in my life.

Like Joshua at the Jordan, I have marked that day as a standing stone in my journey to freedom. Forgiving K was not some magic pill that made all of my hurts go away, but it was a step. I needed to forgive the birthfather not so that I would be all better, but because not forgiving him was hampering my ability to move forward.

What about you? What standing stones have you set up along the way? Maybe today is a day to remember. I love reading your comments.


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