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. 

New Year, New What?

As the new year begins, we once again look at our lives and our new year and try to make it better than the year that came before.  Often that means looking at our lives and deciding what needs to be changed.  For me, that's going to include attempting to come to terms with certain parts of myself.

If you're wondering why this launch into self-discovery, it's because I've found out that my son has inherited some of my qualities and conditions I'd rather he hadn't.  Thus far, he has shown signs of anxiety and problems with sensory overload.  My father had these problems as did I.  My son's adoptive parents are getting him an occupational therapist and getting him the help and care that my father and I never got.  For that, I am glad.

I wasn't sure why the school suggested they get him a therapist at first.  After all, my father and I had gotten along just fine without one.  But looking back I realize that both I and my father could have benefitted from help like that.  This past year has proven to me unequivocally that I am not done learning how to handle my problems.  And I think that finally addressing them now will help me help my son's adoptive parents and my son as well.

I've already formed a plan and will be putting that into action soon.  I won't lie and say I'm looking forward to this.  Examining one's self is often a painful and frightening expedition.  But I have been down this road before.  And as this will help my son, I'm determined to go through with this.

I hope you are all having a good day and stay safe!

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Being pregnant

There were days where I loved being pregnant and days where I absolutely hated it.  For the first four months of my pregnancy I was sick and had a lot of trouble keeping any food down.  I wanted to die.  The only thing that made it worse was that I was a freshman in college for the first 3 months I was pregnant so that meant I was living in a co-ed dorm sharing a bathroom with about 20 other girls.  Getting up 3 times a night to either pee or vomit is not the way to make new friends.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I knew from the time I found out I was pregnant that I wanted to place.  For me parenting was never an option and I was either going to terminate or do an adoption plan.  I am forever grateful that I chose to go through this amazing journey for my daughter. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I cant imagine my life with out her.

I gained about 50 pounds through out the course of my pregnancy.  I had never felt so bad about myself before.  I felt like a whale and that there was no way anyone would ever find me attractive.  If any of you are out there right now and are feeling this way, just know that it does get better!  I hated my body during pregnancy and even though my body will never 100% be the same, I have learned to embrace my new hips.  You have to love yourself before anyone else can.

Being pregnant is hard and no one will ever try to argue that point.  Being pregnant and making an adoption plan is something not a lot of people are familiar with.  Not only the struggle of being an emotional wreck from hormones, but also being a wreck because of knowing where this journey will take you makes everything harder.  There was one day I was shopping with my amazing sister for dinner.  I couldn't decide between two different foods for dinner so I started to cry right in the middle of the store.  I felt insane!  I felt like I was losing my mind and didn't know how to get it back.  I just wanted to be normal again and something I was never told when I was pregnant was that I will never be that.   I will always be a birth mother.  I will always have a little person on my mind who I care about a million times more than myself.  I wouldn't trade it for the world, but that doesn't make it any easier.

I remember the simple and casual talk to a stranger and how sometimes that would make my day so much worse.  I was asked so many times "When are you due?", "Are you excited?" and "Are you ready to be a mom".  Most of the time I didn't tell these people my plan.  It was none of their business.  I don't know why people just assume that because you are pregnant that everyone deserves to know everything about you.  If you're pregnant right now and struggling to make an adoption plan, just know that it does get better.  There were many nights where I thought I was going to be able to do all of this, nights where I just wanted to go to bed and never have to wake up again.  Just know that I would go through it all over again if it meant giving my daughter the life that she has.  There are so many women out there who have been in your shoes.  I have met so many amazing women through adoption, friends that are for life.


How was your pregnancy?  And if you are pregnant how are you making it through?

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.  

Oklahoma Tragedy Hits Home

The tragedy in Moore, OK hits home for me as a birthmother in a closed adoption. How many of those children lost are adoptees? How many birth-parents will never have the opportunity to know their "lost" children?

On Easter Sunday in 2009 my son's Birth Father passed away. My first thought was relief. He could no longer threaten me. I was know longer scared that he may actually follow through with the promises he had made. However, seconds later, I was devastated.  I was devastated that my son, that Frogger would never have the opportunity to meet his father if he chose to. I was devastated that he would never have the ability to hear his fathers voice. I was devastated that Frogger would never have the chance to make his own determination of who his birth father is. Everything he will ever know is what others felt of him and remembered of him.

These are the types of things that make me feel so strongly that open adoptions should be the norm. I understand there may be certain situations where open is not an option. But, we are mothers. We love our children. We worry about them. Most of us have the utmost respect for the parents that are raising our child. But, just because we chose adoption, or perhaps were even forced into adoption due to tragic circumstance, is it really fair that we don't get to know that they are safe? Is it really fair that they don't get to know where they come from?

In spite of a closed adoption, I know more about my son and his life than most in my situation do. I am so grateful for a tiny slip up on the adoptive parents part by including a picture with their last name in one of the very first communications I received when our adoption was semi-open.

I know Frogger is alive. I know Frogger is safe. I know Frogger is loved. I also know that he is a Jr. Firefighter. This makes me proud. But, it also scares me. What would I do if I never get to know if he wanted to meet me or not. How would I feel knowing that opportunity was lost forever.

My heart goes out to all of the families that lost loved ones, their homes, their feeling of safe. But, most of all my heart goes out to the mother's that will never know their children. Not because of choice, but because of tragedy.

We choose adoption so that our children can thrive and grow. A tragic tornado is just a ruthless reminder that we have no control over the life our children will have.

What Would You Have Asked?

An interesting question was posted in one of the support groups I belong to on Facebook. One of the birthmoms asked a question directed towards birthmoms who placed an interracial child. She was wondering what, if any, questions we asked of the adoptive parents in regards to our child's ethnicity. She also asked what we would say if given the chance, and what any expectant moms who are placing plan to ask the hopeful adoptive parents. The answers ranged from "will you accept a child that belongs to a race other than yours?" to "will you honor our child's heritage/national holidays?".

As you may already know, my daughter is biracial. I never really thought twice about who we were placing her with (when it came to skin color or ethnicity). I just wanted a stable, loving, two-parent home for her. Her birthdad, however, had one request: that she be raised by a mixed race couple. He didn't care if her adoptive mom was Caucasian and her adoptive dad was African-American or the other way around - he just wanted her to have one parent of  "each." He felt this would help her to be able to identify with both sides of who she was, and I agreed (to a point). He also wanted her to look like them, which never really even crossed my mind. It was promised to me from the very beginning that she would always know she was adopted and would always know who we were to her, so her 'blending in' with them was never really an issue for me.

It got me to thinking...I never really asked her adoptive parents about this. They met her birthdad and I before she was born, so they were aware of the fact that she would be a mixed race baby.  I suppose I always assumed, since they were black and white, that had they been able to conceive a biological child, he/she would be as well. So they should have no problem, right?

Looking back, I wish I had asked some questions. At least, I feel as if I should have had questions to ask. I still can't really think of any, though. These days it is just as common to be a mixed-race child as it is to only take claim to one race. It's not like the 'old days,' where you had to choose one and identify with it.
Birthmoms of mixed race children - did you ask any specific questions of your child's adoptive parents, or did you have any criteria you wanted them to meet when it came to honoring your child's race? Adoptive parents, did you have any "preference" when it came to adopting? I know the majority of adoptive parents want a child to love and cherish whether that child is white or purple, but I'm just curious. If so, would you mind sharing the reason? And lastly, to any adoptees who may be reading - if you were adopted by parents of a race different from yours, how did you feel growing up in a culture that may have been different than that of your peers who you shared an ethnicity with? Or was it something you never thought twice about?

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