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. 

BMB Reform Blog: What's Coercion to You?

I've been doing these reform blogs for awhile now.  For the most part, it's been interviews with different people.  I've thrown in some commentary on a couple topics I find important, and I still have some ideas floating around in this brain of mine.  But I also want this section to be about YOUR (the readers) ideas.  I wan't to know what's floating around in your brains!

There are so many topics out there on the subject of coercion in adoption.  From things such as the
language we use, to the money spent, to the outright force that has been and sometimes is still used.  In my personal opinion I think all of us should be knowledgeable on these issues.  We can't enact change without knowing what's out there, right?

So let me ask you all this.  What things in adoption do you find coercive?  What do you feel needs to be changed?  What happened in your own journey that doesn't sit well with you?  Please, let me know!  I am always looking for new, fresh ideas to reach the public!

If you or anyone you know would like to be interviewed for this section, or if you have an important reform topic you would like discussed, please feel free to email me!  I look forward to hearing from you!

Photo Credit

BMB Reform Blog: "Birthmother Homes"

I recently came across a post in Facebook about an agency that is opening a new "Birthmother Home."  For those that don't know, birthmother homes are places expectant mothers considering adoption go to as a "safe place" to house them during their pregnancy, and to have their babies.

The first problem I have with this is their inaccurate use of the term "birthmother."  Now, I personally don't call myself a birthmother anyways, but I understand that some use the term.  However, with that said, I think calling an expectant mother a birthmother prior to relinquishment of her child is highly coercive.  To call someone something before they become that puts added pressure on them to "follow through" and not change their mind.  And their choice should be free of that pressure.  In the instances of these homes, that is exactly what they're doing.  In the commercial I had seen for this particular home, they even had the pregnant women referring to themselves as birthmothers.

The other problem I have is the coercive nature of these homes themselves.  They make no reference to helping pregnant women make parenting plans if they happen to change their minds, it's strictly adoption.  What do they do with these women if they start to question adoption?   I would think that moving into a home that is strictly for adoption would put a lot of pressure on a pregnant woman.  I know, for me, it would make me feel like I have to follow through.  That I am obligated to relinquish my child, and no other avenue is available to me.

What are your thoughts on "birthmother homes"?

If you or anyone you know would like to be interviewed for this section, or if you have an important reform topic you would like discussed, please feel free to email me!  I look forward to hearing from you!

Photo Credit

Melody's Story

The smallest decisions we made in life can change our future in ways we never would have dreamed.
For instance, my big life-altering decision came when I decided to try out for my high school's jazz choir when I was leaving the 8th grade. I never wanted to try out, but a friend of mine did so I thought, "Why not?" Little did I know that this decision would affect me every day for the rest of my life in both the best and worst ways possible.

Jazz Choir is where I would meet some of the best people I have ever known who, even 10 years later, I am proud to call my friends. It would open up entire new experiences to me such as musicals, different religions, re-visiting my preschool, my former church, and teaching me to help people through music. I loved performing and I loved putting a smile on someone's face. However, it grew hard for my parents to cart me back and forth all the time since we only had 1 working vehicle and my father's working hours. This is why I began staying after school on days that we had concerts, to take the train instead of my parents in giving me rides. This is also how I met the boy who would change my life.

I met R one day after school while waiting for my fall concert to begin. He was going to be in it too. It was my cousin's birthday and he and I had nothing to do for several hours so, naturally, we gravitated together. That was the first time I became REALLY interested in a boy. This would not be the only first that R would give me. He gave me my first cigarette, first date, first boyfriend, first time, first pregnancy scare, first pregnancy, and my first child.

L was born in the fall, right after I had turned 18. She was beautiful and perfect and the best thing I had ever done with my life....but she wasn't mine.

During my pregnancy, I became the victim of something known as coerced adoption. R's mother, B, was a very manipulative individual. She used to tell me that giving L to her was the best thing I could do, that L would grow to hate me if I kept her, that we would be on welfare, and I would never be able to give her a good life. She also convinced me not to tell my parents about the possible adoption because they would be against it and they weren't good for me, how would they be good for the baby? They would abuse her just like they abused me. B was so adamant about this, she would rarely let me out of the house unless it was to go to school or work. She even kept me in the house when I wanted to go see my grandparents because she was afraid I wouldn't come back and would "take the baby away".

So it came to be when I finally turned 18, a mere 2 weeks before my daughter was born, that I had no way of contacting an attorney when she handed me the adoption papers. So, it was, with no knowledge of what it meant or what I was doing, that I signed away my daughter when she was just 2 weeks old.

It took her over 4 years to finalize the adoption, and over that time I had many thoughts of somehow reversing the adoption, but she kept telling me that I was unfit and if I tried to take my daughter away that she would have me seen as an unfit mother, and ensure that I never saw my daughter again.

Nearly a year and a half after that, B passed away. The woman who stole my daughter was not long for this world. She still lives with her adopted father, P, and his new girlfriend. They treat my L wonderfully and I could not have asked for better parents for her. My animosity is still around quite a bit, but it's ebbing away day by day by day. I am lucky, I know, in the aspect that I get to see my daughter grow up every day. I have been blessed with weekly visits, the ability to take her out to dinner or on special outings, and constant picture and video updates on any milestones I'm not there to witness.

L will be 7 this year and she remains to this day the biggest blessing I have ever known. It's hard to believe it all started when I accompanied a friend to Jazz Choir auditions. So, as a new blogger I'll be sharing my thoughts and views in upcoming posts but today I leave you with a question: What decisions and actions led you to place?