Social Media and Adoption

When looking at the world today, it seems like everyone is connected to everything.  It might seem completely natural for some birth families to be connected to adoptive families on social media, but for others it can feel like walking on thin ice.

When I placed my daughter for adoption, the agency that I was using advised that adoptive families and birth families not 'friend' each other on social media.  After placing, I adhered strictly to that guideline for several years.  After my daughter's Mom served as my maid of honor in my wedding in 2013, we both felt as though we had become comfortable enough with each other to engage in social media.

I was excited by this turn of events.  I was looking forward to seeing the everyday happenings on my birth daughter, and I was glad that my daughter's Mom felt comfortable enough with me to do this, even though our agency didn't generally recommend it.  The friend request came in and I eagerly accepted, looking forward to seeing extra pictures of my sweet baby girl.

Then I saw them.  Every. Single. One.  I knew when she was going on vacation, I saw photos of her going to preschool, I saw pictures of her with her family.  I immediately felt a pit on my stomach.  I was barraged by their happiness and my loss.

I was committed to remaining 'friends' on social media, since I didn't want to jeopardize the openness that I had been so excited to have.  However, after several days of being barraged by photos, I chose to 'unfollow' my daughter's Mom on Facebook for quite some time.  We were able to remain friends, but I struggled with the lack of control that I had when my birth daughter would pop up on my newsfeed unexpectedly.

It took my several months to acclimate with the idea of being friends on social media once I had a taste of what it was like.  After some time, when I felt more prepared, I 'followed' my birth daughter's Mom again.  We have now been happily 'friended' for several years, with no issues.  The first few months though, our social media interactions served as a bit of a trigger for my grief, which was unexpected.

I know not everyone has the opportunity to be "friends" on social media with their child's family
If you are friends with your birth child's family on social media, how has it worked for you?

Photo Credit

Dear Society

I did not want to place my child.  I did not want to give up my rights to be his mom.  

I had to.  I had to give my baby boy a father.  I had to give him the best life possible because he is an angel.


I am not a high school dropout.  I did not grow up having "daddy issues".  I am not worthless.

I had my Masters Degree in Elementary education when I placed my son.  I grew up with the most amazing dad in the world, which is why I wanted to give my child the same.  I am worthy of love and respect just like everyone else.

I did not place my son and walk away.  I did not make this decision because it was the easy way out.

The easy way out? I see my son, the love of my life, twice a year.  I hold him twice a year.  I kiss him twice a year.  I say "I love you" to him twice a year.  And I am considered one of the lucky ones!


It is an impossible choice. Do I regret it?  Never.


My impossible choice gave him more than I could have ever imagined.

 

The Birthday Party

It's that time of year again for me.  In a week my birth daughter will be having her fifth birthday.  I would say that the time has flown, but in reality, it hasn't.  I have spent the last 5 years moving forward, and forward progress isn't always the fastest type of progress.  I'm blessed to be able to celebrate with my birth daughter at her birthday party.  I know that some birth moms aren't granted that luxury, so I feel fortunate that I even have the opportunity.  That doesn't change the emotional struggle that usually comes following this event though.

I do well for the party.  I enjoy visiting with my daughter's parents and other family members, and I love watching my kids all together in one place.  We usually eat a nice lunch, open gifts, and then sing the compulsory "Happy Birthday," before eating cake and ice cream.

The happy birthday song makes me tear up, pretty much every year.  Yes, I know that it's a happy song, and yes, I know that we are celebrating.  There's just something about the chorus of happy birthday that reminds me of everything that I have missed.  For me, it isn't just a song.  It's a reminder of the last 365 days that I didn't bring my birth daughter to school, or brush her hair, or have a seat for her at my dinner table.


I struggle with grief around the time of her birthday, not because I regret my decision, but because I miss all of the moments that everyone else takes for granted.  I miss the time we haven't spent together, the movies we haven't watched together, and the hugs that I will never receive.
   
Around my daughter's birthday, I miss her more.  And the Happy Birthday song is there to prove it.

Countdown to Seeing Noah

I get to have my third visit with Noah in 11 days!

This visit is going to be different.  My mom is coming and so his Noah's grandma (along with the adoptive mom).  Noah is also going to be walking and speaking actual words.  I just want everything to go perfectly.  I want his grandma to love me.  I don't want to cry when I hear him say "mom" to someone else, even though that IS his mom.   I am excited to see Noah and my mom together, it will be their first time seeing each other since the hospital.

It is scary because I don't know how Noah will react to me.  The last time I saw him was 6 months ago and he was 2 months shy of a year old and didn't cry when I held him or anything.  But now he's WALKING, what?! Crazy how time flies.  I am scared, but also hopeful that my relationship with Noah will grow more, and blessed that his family is driving 4 hours just to see me.

I will never take these visits for granted and although these visits are intimidating, they are also my greatest gift.

My first and second visit with Noah



Lots of Love,

Erin

Choosing a Family

When people learn that I am a birth mom, I typically receive several questions. One of those questions is usually in regards to how I found (and chose) my daughter's fantastic parents. The first question is an easy one to answer; we both were working with the same adoption agency. The second question is a little more interesting to answer. I am quite honest. So honest that I typically just tell them that baseball (more specifically the Detroit Tigers) brought us together.

I have been a baseball enthusiast for as long as I can remember. I played fastpitch softball all through my youth, and still play slow pitch a few nights a week during the summer. I remember every Tigers game that I have ever been to, even the one that took place at Tiger Stadium (which I think is pretty impressive, given that I'm only 25). I'm currently researching statistics and getting ready for my fantasy baseball draft in a few weeks, and I am excited because it is almost time to upgrade my cable TV package to include Fox Sports. So, when I say “baseball enthusiast,” I'm really not kidding.

Regardless of the scientific evidence for or against God, I pretty firmly believe that he exists. I also believe that he had hand in this. There really is no other explanation for the picture that I found on the cover of my daughters' parent's profile book. As I lifted up their book there they were, wearing Detroit Tiger's t-shirts, standing at Comerica Park, and taking in a baseball game. The rest of the book was interesting, but in all honesty, the rest of the book didn't matter. It could have been blank, and I still would have chosen to meet with them.

     

My daughter has her family because of the Detroit Tigers. What led you to choose the family that you decided on?

Leaving

      Leaving the hospital.......   It's the moment that everyone fears, for good reason. In some cases, months (or days, or perhaps only hours) of counseling and thinking have tried to prepare you for the event, but in reality, no amount of preparation can make you ready for such an occasion. Some birthmothers savor the hospital experience, waiting as long as possible for the end of it, whereas others feel that leaving the hospital expediently is what will work best for them. There is no right answer, and no wrong answer.

I am a pretty open book about my adoption experience. I will tell everyone pretty much anything that they want to know about how I chose adoption, why I decided to have an open adoption, and what our adoption looks like. I however, usually stay pretty quiet in regards to the moment that I left the hospital. They're my moments; they're tragic, painful, and devastatingly traumatic. I feel like they are moments that need to be discussed though, so here I am.

   
I left the hospital exactly 24 hours after giving birth. I had the option to stay for an additional day, as my baby wasn't able to be discharged for 48 hours, but felt that 24 hours was enough for me. Honestly, I worried that if I put off leaving longer than I had to, then I wouldn't leave alone. I had prepared for the moment, I knew that it would be difficult, but I was not prepared for the crushing magnitude of sadness that befell me at that time. I knew that it had to be done, but every corner of my mind was screaming at me about how I was abandoning my baby (even though I clearly wasn't).

I've read about some birth and adoptive families having loving ceremonies where the birthmom “presents” the baby to their new family. I envy the strength of these women. I remember placing my baby into the arms of her Mom, unable to make eye contact, I was so inconsolable that I couldn't even mutter a word. I handed my baby to her, and quickly exited the room. I walked purposefully down the hall, and left. It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't this amazing, heart warming experience that I'm sure the people around me had been praying for. It was ugly. It hurt. In the midst of my grief, I played that   moment over in my head countless time.

   
Looking back, I wish that it would have been different, but I see that it couldn't have been. I wish that I could have had this amazing, wonderful ceremony where our families came together and we bonded over this wonderful person that we would all love. I wish I would have been able to tell my daughter's Mom how grateful I am that she was willing to give my child everything that I couldn't give to her, and I wish that I would have been able to express how much I appreciate the amazing pregnancy counselor who guided me through my journey, but I just could not. And I've come to realize that that's OK.

What was it like leaving the hospital, or what are you fears about your hospital experience if you are currently pregnant? Did your hospital experience go as planned, or did it change once your baby was born?     

Preparation

I was prepared. I was ready for everything that I have encountered in the last several years, from my placement, to my wedding, to my pregnancy after my placement. I researched, I reflected, I weighed the pros versus the. cons in every decision that I made. I knew that I would be sad, and I knew that I would feel fulfilled, and I knew that in the end I would have happiness.

Until I wasn't prepared.

The hard thing about life is that no matter how ready you think you are for something, reality smacks you in the face. This reality came to me after my youngest child was born. My husband and I had planned her from the beginning. She had a beautiful room in the house that we had purchased, our families were ecstatic, and I could hardly wait to finally have a baby that I would be able to bring home. The weeks flew (OK, they dragged) by and before we knew it we were at the hospital getting ready to have a baby.

My enthusiasm gave way to exhaustion somewhere around hour 17 of a 24 hour labor, but when it came time to deliver my daughter, I was able to complete the task. We were elated and completely in love. Life was wonderful.

Until it wasn't.

Several hours after her birth nurses discovered that my daughter wasn't doing as well as we had thought. This led to an emergency ambulance transport, a NICU stay, and me leaving the hospital with empty arms, yet again.

I think this is where it started for me, the anxiety. It got worse when my daughter got home. All I could think about was losing her. I was overwhelmed by a crippling fear of something terrible happening and losing my motherhood all over again. I would hardly sleep, spending my nights watching over her, making sure that she never missed a breath. When my daughter would cry, I would tremble, clenching my hands, and pacing through the room. I would do my best to please her as quickly as possible, but at times it just seemed impossible. I would find myself in the middle of a room, crying, hyperventilating, knowing what to do, but being unable to do it.

I realized that I had a problem when I quit leaving my house. I would take my baby to the grocery store when it was absolutely necessary, and I found myself wrapping her tightly to my chest in a baby carrier, never willing to risk a disaster, regardless of how small the gamble was. I was on constant alert, viewing the world as one dangerous situation after another.

After a particularly rough week, I made an appointment with a psychologist. When I left my first meeting with her, I brought something with me; a diagnosis of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I was shocked. I have never been to war, I have never seen death, I have never been a victim of sexual assault, I don't fit the mold of someone who would suffer from PTSD. At least that's what I thought until she told me that many birth mothers suffer from this, usually after it is triggered by a life event (like the birth of a child). I have an incredible open adoption, and I have never once regretted my decision. However, the experience of placing a child was most definitely a trauma and I've come to see that it will continue to influence me for the duration of my life.

The great news is that PTSD is can be treated quite effectively with talk therapy. During my sessions (and outside of them), I worked hard with my therapist to rewire the way that my brain perceived things. It was difficult and it took a lot of work, but as time went by I became more outgoing and less fearful. After “graduating” from counseling I have been able to resume all of my previous activities. I enjoy going out to places and no longer view the world as one enormous accident waiting to happen.

I guess that what I'm trying to say by sharing this, is that if you ever are feeling like I felt, it is not your fault. It doesn't mean that you made the wrong choice by choosing adoption and it certainly doesn't mean that you did something faulty. I worry that other birth moms feel the way that I felt and don't get the help that they need. Adoption can be a wonderful thing for some, but it is also overwhelmingly difficult, and there is no shame in needing help, no matter how long ago your placement was. I received counseling for PTSD over 3 years after my adoption. I had no signs prior to the birth of my youngest child. I was secure in my decision, and happy with my life. I had everything going for me, and was ready for anything that life was going to throw at me.

Until I wasn't.

 Has adoption affected you in ways that you never anticipated? What are they, and how have you been able to work through them?   

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!

Photo Credit

Birthmom Story-Amber

Hi! My name is Amber, and I am so excited to be a new blogger for the BirthMom Buds Blog! I am a stay at home mom, an awesome wife, a mediocre cook, and an enthusiastic student! My husband and I are living the American Dream in the suburbs with our two kids and our favorite senior citizen, our dog Sadie. I feel passionately about adoption, and am ready to bring you some awesome reading material.  But first, let's start with my adoption story! 

In 2010, I was 20 and pregnant with my second child. I had recently ended a relationship with my kids’ Dad, which had been plagued by abuse. While trying to heal from that, I was working part time in a restaurant, going to college, and battling to not only pay my bills, but also raise my two year old with no help from her father. I first visited an adoption agency when I was 14 weeks into my pregnancy. 

In December of 2010, I began looking at profiles of couples waiting to adopt. In total, I believe I may have saw nine of them. From there, I was able to narrow my daughter’s parents down to two couples. I brought these books home and examined every inch of their profiles. Choosing someone that you trust enough to raise your child, based on photo’s in a book is NOT an easy task! Finally though, I did it. We met in January of 2011 and I hit it off with my daughters family immediately. I felt like I had known them for years even though it has only been minutes.

On March 23rd, I had my beautiful daughter. Her adoptive Mom was in the delivery room, cut the umbilical cord, and was a great support. I left the hospital 24 hours after giving birth which was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I have ever done. I remember getting home from the hospital and feeling like the biggest failure. I felt like I had abandoned my daughter, and all I could picture was my infant laying in the nursery crying, with no one to take care of her (even though I knew that wasn’t the case). Needless to say, I didn’t sleep that first night. Or the second night.

As the nights passed though, things got easier. I continued my counseling, and I focused on being the best Mom I could be for my daughter. I saw my birth daughter once a week for a while, then once every two weeks, and now we get together as much as possible My birth daughter is growing up in a wonderful home, with wonderful people, and a wonderful extended family…and I am at peace with that.

Photo Creidt

Erin's Story

I'm Erin and I'm excited to be one of the new bloggers here at BirthMom Buds!

I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would be a birthmother.  I saw women placing their child on television and never once took the perspective of the woman who carried their chid for nine months then placed their baby girl/boy into the hands of a hopeful couple.  I like to think I am great at placing myself in other's shoes and taking perspective on situations, but I think the media had shaped me to think more about the adoptee and adoptive parents because no one really talks about birthmothers.

I became a birthmother on November 23, 2015 in Atlanta, Georgia and this past year has been the most beautiful, painful year of my life.  My son is my greatest accomplishment and I am so proud to be a part of his life. After graduating with my Master's Degree in Elementary Education, I placed my son for adoption. This year I not only gained a son but also his parents who I consider family.  You may ask, "Why would you place after graduating with a degree?" Well, I wanted him to grow up with an active father.  I did not want to take his innocence by having him see a stressed out single mother trying to make ends meet or a horrible custody battle between two people who live in different states.  He now has a mom and a dad in the same house who he can run to in the middle of the night if he has a bad dream, he has a dad who will coach him in all the sports he will play, and he is able to grow up knowing what true love looks like.


I do have days where I question my decision, but I think that is normal in this case.  I love Noah (my son) more than anything and that will never change.  I have a healthy open adoption in which I get an update each month and two visits a year.  When I was pregnant, I made sure to build a strong relationship with his adoptive mom, which was easy because we would literally be best friends if we were the same age haha! She is God's gift to both Noah and me and I am so happy I chose her to be Noah's mama.


As of today, I am a 5th grade ELA teacher in Georgia and love what I do.  I have good days and bad days.  I am lucky because I know where my son is and how he is doing.  I am thankful every day for this gift and I look forward to sharing the up's and down's of this crazy roller coaster with you from here on out.

Lots of Love,

Erin

Coping 4: Reach Out

The first year of being a birthmother is the hardest.  You have to recover from being pregnant.  You have to go through all the hormones.  You have to settle with all the feelings you and those around you are having.  And on top of all that, your child isn't with you.  They're being raised by someone else and it's possibly the most difficult feeling you've ever had in your life.

But after the first year, things calm down a bit.  Your body starts going back to normal.  Hormones start calming down.  Everyone starts settling into the new reality.  And with any luck, you've seen your child a couple of times and know how they are doing and how well things are going.  Slowly, you start to settle into the way life is going to be now.

And if you're very very lucky, you'll find a great support network like BirthMom Buds or a local support group to attend and other birthmothers to talk to.  There really is nothing much like knowing that you are not alone.  In talking to birthmothers who have been through a lot, I have learned that I am not alone in this.  I have found people I can turn to when my emotions run high and I have to face things like first birthdays and walking and going to school for the first time.

And I have been there for other birthmothers.  Women who are in the very same shoes that I once stood, facing the same decisions and uncertainties that I once faced.  I have been there for them in the aftermath.  I have listened to them in the midst of their sadness and confusion.  And I have told them, I've been in that very same spot.  I know what it feels like.  And you will get through this.  This more than anything has taught me that none of us are alone in this.  There is always someone to give a hand.  There is always someone to lend an ear.  And there is always someone's shoulder to cry on.  Even if it is in person, or over the phone, or across the internet, you are not alone.

Coping 1: Taking a Break

Since I've gotten back into a local support group and have met a couple of new birthmothers, I've started thinking about the different ways that we cope with what has happened to us and how we cope as time goes on.  So I flipped through a few ideas and I wanted to talk about a few of the things that have worked for me and others that I know.  So, here we go.

First thing is taking a break.  Right after I gave birth to J, I wanted to be anywhere other than where I was.  It didn't really matter where I was or who was around or what was going on.  And I didn't really know where I wanted to be.  It was at a loss.  So, I did what I have done before, I disappeared into books and writing and Netflix.  I'm a second generation librarian who was often told that I could disappear into any book that I wanted.  I'm also a writer.  And building my own worlds is sometimes how I cope with the rest of the world.  And, well, let's face it, Netflix is just awesome.  I was watching whole seasons of shows and finding new movies and watching all manner of new things.  For me, it was a break: a break from reality.  This is something I'm practiced at.  So I knew the ways back.  But for a while, this was my break.

I have known a few other birthmothers who, in the aftermath of everything, decided to take a break in one way or another.  One took a job in another state.  One took a job on a cruise ship.  Two went to college.  One went back to work.  Others did like me and hid away from reality for a while one way or another.  I think for every birthmother there needs to be a time right after everything has been settled where we take a break.  Just a time to step back, step away, come back to ourselves, and find a place where we can start to think about what to do next and where to go next with our lives.

Taking a break is something important to remember later on, too.  After each visit, I always take off at least a few hours where I don't talk to anyone or just dive into a movie or TV show for a few hours so I can just take a break from everything I'm feeling at that moment.  So take my advice, if you need to, take a break.

I have a few ideas on what to do next.  But if you have any certain coping ideas that you want me to write about, let me know in the comments.  Hope you all have a great day!

Christmas Shopping

It's that time of year again.  Time to trim the trees, eat some good food, see your family, and exchange presents.  As the time to arrange my Christmas visit with my son approaches, I ask myself the awkward question, what does my son want for Christmas?  I say awkward because, well, shouldn't I know what my son wants for Christmas?  I have lucked out a bit with J.  Trucks and Legos.  He cannot get enough.  Granted, I think this is true of most boys.  I felt bad at one point that I'd gotten him one of something that he already had.  But his parents and other parents who were there assured me, "There can never be enough Legos, doesn't matter if they're the same thing."

This year, I'm going to try to find a Lego set, maybe even something musical for him since he seems to be interested in music.  He's four years old, so it will have to be something that is durable.  A drum might drive his parents crazy.  But I'll see what else I can find.

This year I also hope to give his parents Christmas presents.  Nothing really large or fancy.  Just something to show my appreciation not only for the immaculate care of my son and the fact that they continue to prove that I was right in choosing them as my son's parents, but also for their continued openness and willingness to include me and my parents in my son's life.  It's a gift that I cannot even begin to pay them back for.  I am grateful every single day for the care and love they lavish on J.  And I know this Christmas, while it has been a rough one for their family, will be a happy one.  They are family.  And family always comes together in the rough times and does their best to make the best of it.

I hope that all of you have a wonderful holiday season, whichever way you choose to celebrate it.  I hope for peace and harmony this December as the year comes to a close.  And I hope you all get to spend time with those you love and who love you.

Tell Your Story

Historically, birthmothers have been a population of women who have been bullied into silence.  And there were always reasons that at least seemed important at the time.  Mostly they were attached to how the community and society would see the woman and her family.  Women were supposed to be good and pure and polite.  Talking about an unplanned pregnancy at tea time would mostly likely make the older women in the room faint.  Even if that pregnancy was the result of rape or incest, there was still shame and fear heaped upon the women in these impossible situations.  While today unplanned pregnancies aren’t met with anywhere near the shame and societal pressures they were once met with, somehow, when one is a birthmother, we are still expected to keep silent.

I’ve been thinking about this a good deal of late; mostly because I've gotten more comfortable with telling my friends and co-workers about my son.  For a time there I only spoke to family, the small handful of friends I had who knew, and the birthmothers that I met through a support group run by the adoption agency I placed through.

My family didn't know really what to say.  My parents were also trying to understand why I had made my decision and what it meant about them.  I had to tell them at one point that in the end, this wasn’t about them.  This was about me, my boyfriend, and our son.  I had to make this decision for the three of us.  My parents’ age and health was a factor.  But it was not the only, nor the deciding factor.  It took us a couple of years before we could get to a point where we could talk to each other about it.  For a time there, it was painful on both sides and it was easier at times to just not talk about it.

My friends also didn't really know what to say.  I didn't expect them to.  I had suddenly apportioned myself off from everyone my age.  Anyone I knew who had gotten unexpectedly pregnant before had either terminated the pregnancy, had a miscarriage, or chose to give birth to and parent the child.  What I was going through, none of them ever had.  No one was sure what to do or what to say to me.  In the subsequent years, I have told others.  I have found a couple of birthmothers and a few adult adoptees who have helped me and have made me feel less alone.  My current circle of friends knows everything there is to know.  These friends have been the closest friends that I've had in a while.  We've gotten good at reading each other’s tone and each other’s mood.  And they know that I am going to my son’s birthday party tomorrow afternoon.  And I've been invited to one of the circle’s birthday party tomorrow night.  He’s declared that if I don’t feel up to it, he won’t be upset or insulted if I don’t appear at his party.  I told him I would let him know one way or the other.  Right now, I think I can do it.  But this kind of empathy I don’t find with every one of my friends.  So I count myself lucky when I do.

The other birthmothers that I have met and have become friends with are the ones who have almost understood everything I am going through and everything that I am saying.  Now and again a situation will come up that no one has faced before, but they make me feel less crazy when they say, “Oh honey, I would have no idea what to do either.  I’m so sorry.”  One birthmother in particular, K, has been a good close friend and a great support to me over the past few years.  Her daughter is several years older than my son.  Thus things like my sadness over missing the first steps, the first words, and the stake to the heart that is hearing him say “Mama” for the first time to someone who isn't me, were always met with understanding and kindness from her.  I saw her for the first time in months last week and it was a relief to speak to her since my son’s birthday was coming up so soon.  Hopefully I will be seeing her next month.

I have told my story and talked about being a birthmother in one other venue, and it is almost always to a room that is at least half strangers.  I have told stories.  I have read poetry.  I have called attention to the fact that birthmothers are out there and have stories to tell.  We shouldn't be ashamed of what we did and we shouldn't let others make us feel ashamed.  There are those who are shocked by my story.  There are those who gain a better understanding of me.  There are still others, I’m sure, who judge and dismiss me.  They wish that people like me, and the other birthmothers I know, would be quiet and keep shameful things like what I did to myself.  I’m not ashamed of what I did.  Most days I’m at peace with my decision.  Some days are harder than others.  I know that my son is where he needs to be in order to have the best life that he can.

My hesitance to share my story at times comes solely from my fear of how others will treat me and how they will react to my story.  While I know I did the right thing for my child and no one can tell me different, it does still sting when someone tells me that I abandoned my child.  It does still burn when they stare at me like a monster who left their kid on some street corner to be picked up by God knows who.  And it does make me feel about two inches tall when they tell me that surely with my family and my boyfriend and his family there was a way to make it work.  There was.  But that way would have been extremely difficult for everyone involved and my boyfriend and I knew better.  We knew that our son would suffer.  And that was something that we could not allow.

Our stories are stories that need to be told.  Our stories are important and should be acknowledged for their importance.  All of you have a story to be told and everyone’s is unique.  I encourage all of you, tell your story.  Write it, talk it, act it out, whatever you have to do, but please, tell your story.  Don’t be scared of it or ashamed of it.  It’s part of who you are and you should honor it.  If people judge you for it, that’s their problem.  There will be so many others who will love you for it and still others who will gain bravery and strength from it.

Open Adoption, Plan It

Open adoptions can be wonderful! I love receiving email updates about cute things my (birth) son has learned to do and the adorable photos which capture the smile I passed on to him. 

When adoption was decided on and the family chosen, I think the only thing we didn't have a plan for was how open the adoption could, would, and should be.  I knew that every open adoption was different and I could not mirror a single one. 

With my adoption situation, I thought it would be fine and I wouldn't have any problems.  The couple was very friendly and we became close during the remainder of the pregnancy and for the first six months of the child's life.  Then life slowly went back to normal for them and I kept on grieving. 

I thought they would just know how and when to communicate, but they didn't, and I ended up being disappointed many times.

Usually pictures and emails arrived two to three weeks apart, then gradually it started to slow down.  When I did receive anything, I would be caught off guard and I would break down sobbing, like placement happened all over again. 

The important thing that I have learned is to make an open adoption plan.  This would be an agreement made between the birth parent(s) and the adoptive parents and would include the following:

• Methods of Communication (email, text, Facebook, snail mail, etc.)
• Frequency of Communication (once a week, month, etc.)
• Visits (where, how often, who can come)

One thing that I learned from not having a plan was that I should have had a plan!

(Editor's Note: We'd be remiss if we didn't add that adoption plans are not legally binding in all states and that sadly, open adoptions can be closed without a birthmother's permission or even knowledge. But when done right with the best interests of the child involved, open adoption can be a positive thing for all involved.) 

Do you have an open adoption plan? What are some things you have learned about having a plan for open adoption? What has worked for you?  And what hasn't worked for you?

Please post your comments, they may help someone else. 

Life After Placement

Right after I placed, it's almost as if my life was put on hold. I wallowed for quite a long time. I put myself in the "victim" role. I often told myself I wasn't good enough to be a mother, so that's why I placed. I cried for days on end during the summer after Micah was born. I constantly felt sorry for myself. I convinced myself that what I was going through was to be expected. And to an extent, it was. But feeling constantly depressed and angry isn't what placement should be like.

I started seeing a therapist in May of  2012 and attempted to get my life back on track. My therapist and I discussed my resentment towards my parent and towards myself. In that dark time in my life, I kept blaming myself. "If I would've been more prepared... If I would've settled down... If I'd known earlier... If I wasn't 17..." But then we came upon common ground. It was my "fault" I got pregnant, but it was my choice to give him a better life than I could have provided. In a way, I did sacrifice some of my teen years. I went from being a somewhat popular girl in high school, to not knowing where I fit in. I became separated from my friends in high school because no one truly knew what I'd been through. 

In my town there's literally nothing to do. We have a movie theater that's going bankrupt, a bowling alley that mainly just holds tournaments, a few diners, a coffee shop, Elizabethtown College, and the high school. Oh, and we're in the middle of Amish country. Most of the teenagers in my town either become drug addicts by the time they're 16, are obsessed with everything "country", or get pregnant by junior year. A lot of my friends are mothers or college students, so it gives me a catch 22. I don't really fit in with the teen moms, but I don't really fit in with the college kids either. Granted, I'm going to community college, but it's just not the same. I tried going to a 4 year school but I just wasn't ready.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that whatever you decide to do, you have options. Placing your child for adoption gives the both of you a better opportunity in life. Don't let yourself succumb to the "What ifs". Just go for it. I had to learn that the hard way. 

What are your plans in life? Are you in school? What would you like your career to be?

Photo: (wo months after I placed Micah, I graduated from high school.

Deciding When Enough is REALLY Enough

On Saturday, August 31st, I had my 6th visit with my son, Micah. S and H met my mom and I at a local kid's amusement park around 10 AM. We've made it an annual thing now and it's never effected me the way it did for this visit. Actually, none of the visits have effected me the way this one did.

My son is now 17 months old and he's starting to develop his own personality. The first thing he did when he saw me was wave and smile. It was so sweet, but heart wrenching at the same time. As the day went on, I started getting back spasms (I've been having some medical problems, back spasms being one of the symptoms). I just brushed it off, hoping that I'd be able to continue with the visit. We were having a great time when all of a sudden, Micah started running around. I know, it doesn't sound like a big deal, but it hit me really hard. It was the first time I've really been able to see him move around. Finally, at 12 PM, I decided that it was too much, I couldn't emotionally handle it anymore, and I had to leave. 

This visit has been the first time that I've actually questioned my decision about his placement. The more S and H talked about his milestones, even just day to day stuff, the more I thought about my actual role in his life. It's frustrating, to say the least. 

Have any of you birth mothers ever felt this way? Have you ever had a visit end this way? I'd love to hear about your experiences and stories! Feel free to comment below. Always remember, you're not alone! 

Until next week!

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?

How and Why I Chose to Proceed with an Open Adoption

When I first went to the adoption agency, we discussed a future contact agreement (FCA). You know, like if I wanted to see Micah, visit with him, pictures, emails, the works. At first, I was questioning it. Did I really want to see him with his new family? Would it bring up "healed" wounds? I had no clue. But what I did know is that I had tons of questions growing up about my own birth parents. Yep! I'm adopted! But that's a different story. 

The one thing I didn't want for Micah is any loose ends. Any questions he had, I or S&H would answer. So I decided to opt for an open adoption. He would know everything about me and some information about his birth father when he was ready. Only when he's ready. I don't want him to be overloaded with too much information at a time when he's not fully prepared. I mean, like it or not, adoption is a hard thing to process for anyone. I didn't want any answer or explanation coming across the wrong way. For example, "I wasn't ready for you" can easily come across to a five year old as "I didn't want you to ruin my future". It's a thin line for any adoptive family to maneuver around. But it can be especially detrimental to the birth mother's relationship with their biological child. 

It's hard to know how to "enforce" an open adoption and it's important to note that open adoption isn't legally enforceable in most states. By nature, I'm an extremely impatient person, so if S and A don't email me back within a few weeks, my mind  always gets the best of me. "Why aren't they emailing me back? Ugh, what is going on!!? How can they do this to me! I have a right to know what is going on with my child! Wait, what if something happened... Is everyone okay?! Oh my gosh, what if Micah is hurt!?" See what I mean? It's ridiculous. But my mom says that's the "mother" in me coming out. 

Mainly, I just wanted Micah to know who I am and why I did what I did. I've been dealing with abandonment issues my whole life, and the last thing I want is Micah to feel that way. I've dealt with depression my whole life, too. He should never have to feel like I felt at my lowest point. By having an open adoption, I'm hoping he won't have to feel the pain I felt from not knowing my own birth mother. 

How did you chose what kind of adoption you have? Leave a comment below! 

Until next time!

Photo Credit

My (Shortened) Story

I've increasingly wanted to be more active as a birthmom for the past couple of years. When I saw BirthMom Buds was looking for bloggers, I was anxious about committing but excited about the opportunity. Since I'm new here and looking forward to providing my thoughts each week, I'd like to just introduce myself and my condensed story today.

I found out I was pregnant shortly before my 17th birthday. My boyfriend and I were both obviously shocked but actually excited to raise our child. Unfortunately, after we moved in together, our relationship turned tumultuous, depressing, abusive and impossible to salvage. We were both just very immature, selfish and divided on what we wanted out of life and out of each other.

After much thought, much prayer, and much listening to the advice of a few friends one night, I finally concluded that adoption - an option neither of us previously couldn't stomach considering - was the answer. I was seven months pregnant.

R was born on October 4, 2006 at 3:28 in the morning - on the adoptive parents' anniversary. They immediately packed up and drove through several states when they heard of his birth and before I ever officially signed the papers.

I spent three days in the hospital with him, and was able to meet not only his parents, but a set of his grandparents who just so happened to be driving through our state at the right time.

There are three sobering moments that I remember in the hospital: when the lawyers came with the papers, they referred to Baby M-- (last name). For some reason I can't explain, this evoked intense emotions and I insisted that they write the name my family had picked - Jayden Andrew (knowing his name would be R instead). I remember realizing I didn't have to sign. It comforted me knowing I had a choice. And though I lingered for a moment, I did choose to sign.

The second moment that I will never forget was on the day we left. I was in the hospital bed with R and I handed him to his mom. While she was holding him, he cried, and I remember a gut-wrenching feeling and an impulse to reach out, though I didn't. We took pictures, cried.

And the final memory was leaving the hospital with my mom. Riding away like so many other ordinary times I had been in the car with my mom. Back to life. No baby. No pregnancy. Nothing to show for anything.

If I were to write about the journey that followed, this would turn into a book. My hope is to share insights from my experience as a birthmother through my future writing here. Oftentimes, people are curious about the process before the placement, but don't realize there is a far longer and emotional, difficult, changing process that continues after. I believe it's important to shed light on this process.

I just want to conclude by saying we started with a semi-open adoption, receiving updates monthly for the first six months, then yearly until five years. However, R will turn seven in October and his mom recently added me on Facebook, initiating a transition into the "open" adoption territory. I'm sure I'll have much to share about this change of events!

I'm currently married, parenting an 18 month old son and expecting a baby girl in July. As the years have gone by and I've become more stable in my emotions regarding adoption, I've become involved with the other side of adoption, speaking to and making friends with many adoptive parents. It is my hope that we will someday be able to adopt, but for now I simply hold a special place in my heart for families who seek out those children in need. Hopefully because of this, I can write somewhat unbiased about some adoption issues and topics.

Looking forward to writing again!