Time

As I reflect on my life and this forever journey of adoption, I can't help but realize how much timing and circumstances have shaped my life.  As I sit here now, pregnant with my fourth child, I can't help but reflect on all my pregnancies, but in particular the one I so often remember with my son Aidan.

In many ways, I try not to look back on my decision to place my son for adoption.  I know it was the right decision at the time and there are so many blessings that have come from it.  However, it is so easy to look at the time that has passed and think, if only it had been a different time; if only I was a little bit older; if things were a little bit different.  In my story, my life drastically changed following the birth of my son.  I believe this was due to things I learned and experienced along the way, but it is still hard to look at the time and the changes and not wish things hadn't happened differently.  Obviously, if it had been a different time then it wouldn't have been Aidan and the years following would not have followed the same path, but in my emotional reflections on things there is always that little wish, or wondering if the time had been different.

For me it was only two years later that my daughter was born and I began the amazing journey of parenting.  Now I have three beautiful daughters in my home and an amazing husband.  I have the family that I felt my son would be missing out on, and here it is only a few years later.

It was always so important to me that my children had a mother and father in the home.  I knew Aidan would not have a father figure, and that played a part in my decision for adoption.  Now I see my husband with our girls and it breaks my heart that he cannot be the father to Aidan.  It is amazing how quickly things can change.  While I am so blessed to be at such an amazing place with a wonderful family, it can also be hard. If only I had known.... If only....

I know things have happened as they were meant to be, and I am forever grateful for each and everything I have learned along the way.  I am blessed beyond all belief by each one of my children in their own unique way.  I know that time has changed things and I know more change will come with the years.  I choose to feel peace.  I choose to feel joy.  I choose to feel love.  I must remind myself: keep looking forward, while still embracing the past.  It has made me who I am today.

Photo Credit

Quote of the Week: Intelligence

“The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.”

If you have any suggestions for quotes to use, feel free to email me or post a comment!

Photo Credit

Accepting who I am...

"I am a... birthmother.  Yes, I am a birthmother.  Hi, I'm a birthmother!  Yes, I'm a birthmother.  A birthmother is part of what I am.  That's not the only thing that I am, but that is part of it."

Welcome to my brain ladies.  And yes, it is just this nutty in here.

The above statement is kind of a rewind, a playback to a different point in time.  After placing my son for adoption, it was hard to even say to myself that I was as birthmother.  I had to spend a good amount of time getting used to the title myself.  It wasn't taking over my whole identity.  But it was now a part of me that was never going to go away.  And it was a part I needed to learn to accept.  So I spent a good amount of time practicing saying and explaining what I am now.

"I'm a birthmother.  My son was placed for adoption when he was born and it's an open adoption and it was the best decision for him at the time."

The early days were tough.  First there were medical professionals who aren't that difficult.  Then there were old friends.  Then new friends.  Employers.  Co-workers.  More new friends.

In the early days it almost all came out as one word: "I'mabirthmotherandmysonisfineandIgettoseehim."  Yeah, that was really clear.  The questions seemed invasive even though I answered with a smile.  And somewhere in the back of my head I was always worried that I was being silently judged for this.

But as time went on, it got easier.  I got less and less afraid of the reactions people would have as the good reactions far out weighed the bad.  I got used to the questions and am now able to tell the difference between those who just don't know and those who are trying to peck away at my decisions and defenses.  And these days if they are silently judging me, I do a passable job at not caring about it.  In the end it was my decision and not theirs.  They were not there and therefore have no say in what I did.

Telling people that I'm a birthmother, to this day, is a gamble.  And it's one that for now I'm still willing to play.  I am more confident now in who I am and what I did and why I did it.  Those who try to argue with me are very calmly told the facts and what would have happened had things gone differently.  If still not convinced, I move on and try to put them behind me.  The simple fact is this is not going to change.  This is a part of who I am now.  It's something I will have to deal with every single day.  And those who know me and want to know everything there is to know, they need to know and accept this too.

We shouldn't be ashamed of being birthmothers.  But I do completely understand that desire to just push it away and not deal with it.  Sometimes it's necessary when dealing with people who are closed-minded or judgemental.  But other times, it is something that needs to be said.  I hope all of you find acceptance from everyone you talk to about this.  And I am with you when people can't understand and treat you poorly.  But do remember this: you should never be ashamed of being everything that you are.  And that includes being a birthmother.

I am a librarian, a writer, a teacher, a musician, a knitter, a dreamer, a thinker, and a birthmother.  But most of all.  I am human and deserving of respect just like everyone else.  None of these things make me any less than anyone else.

Hard Love

One of my main goals for telling my story is to change the perception of adoption. Unfortunately, unplanned pregnancies happen. Why is the main stream so tied to Parenting vs Abortion? Why is there so much shame and stigma towards Adoption?

I believe I knew in the beginning, while still pregnant that I was not equipped to parent my son and provide for him as he deserved. But, I fell into the trap thinking that my choices were parent or abort to be accepted by those in my life. If I had an abortion no one had to know. And, well, if I parented then “I stepped up”.

I tried. God knows, I tried. I parented for 2 years, 6 months, and 5 days.

I think my life would have turned out differently had I felt confident that adoption was a viable option from the beginning. I believe the healing process would have been easier had the shame and guilt not hung over me like a cloud on a stormy day for so long.

We, as birthmothers, do not love our children any less. We, as birthmothers, are not looking for a way out from responsibility. This may sound a little self-righteous, but when people look at me in horror when I tell them about the adoption and say things like, “I could never GIVE my child away, I love him too much.” I want to answer back, “Maybe I loved my son MORE than you and that is why I did everything I had to, to make sure he had the best life possible.” It is not that I truly feel that way. I just cannot grasp why others believe that is what adoption is about.

I was excited when the movie Juno came out. Finally a movie about a birth mom. They did a good job, overall. But, I was angry. I was angry that they did not show an accurate portrayal of the roller-coaster this teen mom would go through. I had not heard of the movie that Natasha just reviewed, Like Dandelion Dust, but I'm disgusted with the portrayal of that movie as well. 

Adoption is HARD, but it also BEAUTIFUL. Adoption is not weak, it is BRAVE. Adoption is not selfish, it is SELFLESS. Adoption is not shameful, it is INSPIRING. Adoption is not indifference, it is LOVE. These are the key words that need to be used when discussing adoption.

No one wants to find themselves in an unplanned pregnancy. None of us want that for our children, family members or friends. But it happens. It will continue to happen. I wish everyone who found themselves in that situation immediately thought parenting or adoption. I may be pro-choice, but I do not believe anyone should feel that is their only choice if they are unable to parent.

I want to educate others to be pro-active regarding adoption. I want the media to build adoption up, not tear it down. I want us, as birth mothers, to be able to hold our head high, not be tempered by shame or guilt. We chose good things for our children. We planned more promising futures for our children. We should NEVER feel bad for that.  

Twists and Turns

The journey of adoption is filled with so many twists and turns. There are many turns and forks in the road along the way.

One of the most difficult aspects of placement is that things change. The future you plan for your child is not set in stone. The expectations don't necessarily happen. The circumstances that led you to choose placement also, God-willing, change as well.

As I have stated before I made a plan for my son's future. I wanted Frogger to have a mother and a father. I wanted Frogger to not have a life defined by financial struggle. I wanted Frogger to have the stability that I was unable to give him at that time.

Almost immediately there were HUGE changes. Within a year of placement, I began my career. I immediately doubled my salary. Within two years, I was getting married. Three years and we purchased a house in a great neighborhood, with great schools. Not only were we able to not struggle financially, but we took vacations and had savings.

On the other side, the AP's adopted another boy within only a few short months of Frogger's placement. I was happy for them. Proud that Frogger would have a brother to grow up with. But, that was not in MY plan. I expected for him to be an only child for at least a year. I expected that he would have a chance to settle in and adjust to his new life before there was another massive change. My feelings were at odds with each other. I was happy, yet, I was disappointed. I had in my mind that things would go a certain way. It was a difficult adjustment to accept that expectations are rarely met.

Although R & P never mentioned it, based on the pictures I received in the beginning, they separated within a couple of years and later divorced. What? How could this happen? At this point my life was everything I thought I was giving my son with R & P. I felt overwhelmed with questions, with grief.

Although, I still did not regret my choice, I would be lying if I said this wasn't a difficult time to remember that. I had to remind myself over and over that I needed to remember the circumstance of then. Not now. I had to believe in myself. I had to trust that I made the best decision for that time. I had to believe that although things may not have been playing out the same way I planned, that I did OK.

When you make an adoption plan you find yourself in a fantasy world. The one where everything works out like you hope. The one where all your expectations are met. As you travel the road you realize you can't see what is around that corner up ahead. You don't know what fork in the road you will take or the adoptive family will take.

I choose to believe that Frogger is happy. That his parents continue to provide for him. That both of his parents continue to be a huge and positive influence in his life. I can not guarantee that. But, I hope. I believe. I have to. I have to believe in them. I have to believe in me. I have to believe that Frogger is living the life that was intended for him.

Diving Back Into Therapy

A few weeks ago, I woke up one morning and realized that I needed to go back to therapy. I know revelations such as those rarely come "overnight," but for me, this one did. You see, I was not provided with any therapy prior to placing my daughter (which I now realize is a big no-no, but at the time, I was so overcome with emotions that it never crossed my mind that I should be alarmed by the fact that my adoption counselor never suggested pre-placement therapy), and while I did give it a try after placement, it was short lived. I essentially went for two reasons: (1) the agency I went through would pay for 6 months of therapy and (2) my mother essentially forced it on me. If I've learned anything, it's that forcing something on someone will generally render the results opposite to those that the person is looking for. Especially when it comes to adoption and anything relating to adoption. So, I went, but it was against my will, and therefore did no good whatsoever. I also only went for one month before I had to have my gallbladder removed with little notice. After I recovered from my surgery, I went back to work and tried to convince myself that I was strong enough, on my own, to deal with my emotions. I was too proud to want any help, and I felt that they would just end up drugging me, and I wanted to feel the pain. I knew that those few months after placement were the crucial months, and I wanted to work through my emotions on my own and allow myself to feel them. I didn't want to numb the pain, only to be smacked in the face with it a year, two years, or three years down the line.

Well, I wound up doing the opposite. I attempted therapy again around this time last year (so one year after my first attempt), again, at my mother's will. She noticed that I was basically going to work, coming home, and retreating to my room as soon as possible, and only coming out to shower. She made me feel as if I had to go, and I'm a stubborn person. I went, but I didn't let it do me any good. I listened, and I talked to my therapist, but I felt like we weren't a good match. Looking back, I wonder if we really weren't a good match, or if it was just me subconsciously making us a match.

So, fast forward to this past September. I woke up one morning and realized that I didn't want to feel the way I had been feeling. This came after another important realization: I wasn't happy. I was able to fake it pretty well (around everyone, with the exception of my daughter's birth father. He can see right through me, still.), and I had done such a good job of "faking" it, that I had started to believe it myself. I believed I was happy. I missed my daughter, and I got sad when I thought of how much she's changed and grown, and I got upset and frustrated when updates didn't come on time, but for the most part, I was "happy." But I was just going through the motions. Being able to get up in the morning doesn't mean you're happy. Being able to go out and laugh with friends doesn't mean you are happy. That's all I was doing. Work, home, shower, dinner, bed. Next morning: repeat. And I was struggling to get out of bed when I wasn't even tired. So, I took the first step (always the hardest) and set up an appointment.

I've only had three appointments so far, but they have been good. I feel like this therapist and I "clicked" very well from the beginning. She asked me if I thought I was depressed, and I said no. I told her I'm not sad, but I'm not happy...I'm just existing. She replied by telling me that she thinks that I have been depressed for so long that it's become normal for me...to the point where I don't think anything is wrong. I suppose she's right.
This time around, it has already been a much more positive experience for me, because I made the decision to do it. I knew that in order for it to work for me, I had to want it for myself. I couldn't go because I thought it was expected of me, I couldn't go because someone else thought that I should....I had to realize, within myself, that I needed it.

What has your experience with therapy been like? Have you coped on your own without it, has it helped you immensely, or anything in between?

Photo Credit