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!

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How my Faith was Born

So last week I told you that my faith was born out of the drama of my unplanned pregnancy. How did that happen? What did it look like? What drove me to that place?

All good questions. You already know I was sent far away from home and lived in a maternity home. It was there I met and saw people serving as nurses and house parents and counselors. People who didn’t know me or my family or my particular situation.

But they didn’t care. They were there to love me and support me physically as I moved through my pregnancy; mentally as I worked through the various decisions that needed to be made; emotionally as I dealt with very grown-up subject matter at a young age; and mostly spiritually, as they were the hands and feet of Jesus loving me, smiling at me, hugging me, praying for me and teaching me about Jesus and his love for me.

While I had grown up in church, I never connected church with real life until I went there. Yes, I heard about Jesus and the Bible there, but I also saw it in action. In my day, being pregnant outside of marriage was shameful. It was not something boasted about or flaunted. It was something to be hidden and not discussed.

My parents went to great lengths to hide my pregnancy from everyone they could, even family members. I was not allowed to return home until my pregnancy was over and done with and I could fit back into my regular clothes. And then only with strict instructions that no one was to know. Ever.

The irony is that when I got home and saw my best friend, she knew all about my pregnancy because the birthfather had spread the news all over school.

But while I was at the maternity home, I was encouraged by people speaking kind and loving words to me. People looking me in the eye and treating me like a hero for choosing life. They didn’t look through me or around me. They weren’t afraid of catching my sin. They reached out to me and showed me what Jesus was really like.

They understood that while my family was ashamed, Jesus was not. Yes, I had made a mistake that had lead to pregnancy, but he had not turned away from me. In fact, more than ever he wanted a relationship with me.

So one day, knowing I was beat and had nowhere else to turn, I got down on my knees by my bed and asked Jesus to take over my life.


It’s amazing that when you have nothing left but Jesus, you realize he is all you really need.

Have you come to that point in your life yet? I love hearing from you.

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