The Moment I Knew

Some of you may have read this title and assumed I would be writing about when I found out I was pregnant, but that involves a not so classy CVS bathroom with my best friend that isn't my favorite thing to share, haha!

When did you know that you had met your son/daughter's future parents? I remember it like it was yesterday.

I had looked through a few books of families and honestly, I had a feeling they were the ones before I even met them.  They were a hopeful couple who had struggled with infertility and wanted a baby to complete their family more than anything.  The woman was a a 7th grade special education teacher who coached middle school basketball and the man was a police sergeant.  They lived in Savannah, Georgia, which was about 4 hours from me.

I remember worrying about how I would greet them, do I hug them? Do I shake their hand? This was so small but it was the first impression and I wanted it to be absolutely perfect.  And it was.  I was told beforehand that the lady from the adoptive agency would be prompting us throughout the meeting to keep it going nicely and allowing us to get to know each other.  I do not remember her saying one word throughout the meeting because with my mom, the future adoptive parents, and myself, she couldn't get a word in!! I had a list of questions I came in with and I remember asking them question after question and they said an honest response every time, not trying to give me the perfect answer.  In my eyes, it was the perfect response every time though!

We had so much in common.  

When they left, I remember them giving me their phone numbers, address, and emails.  This is such a rare blessing.  They both gave me long hugs, I think we both knew.  On the way home, I texted them ultrasound pictures of Noah.

 I couldn't wait to see them as a family.

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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?

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?

Unity

In my Wednesday morning Bible study, we have spent a lot of time talking about unity: Unity in the church, unity among other believers, loving each other even when we don't like each other.. that sort of thing. It occurred to me we could apply this principle of unity to our own community of birthmoms.

We all have this common thread of experiencing the loss of one or more of our children through adoption. Not all of our stories are the same. Not all of our experiences are the same. But we all share this deep grief and sadness at losing one of our own. Instead of judging each others' motives or stories or lifestyles, we should continue loving and supporting each other wherever we are.

Soapbox over. Hope you're having a great day.

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I'm having their Baby Defense Mechanism

A little over twelve years ago, I was in my mid twenties, single, scared out of my mind, and pregnant. For a myriad of different reasons that aren't the point of this post, I’d made the choice to place my baby for adoption. I had chosen a good family and things were falling into place logistically but they weren't in my heart. There is absolutely nothing natural about rubbing your own belly to calm your kicking baby knowing you’ll only spend a few short days with him (or her) before you hand him over to the woman he’ll call Mom. But, I needed a way to cope, a way to be strong enough, and follow through with what I felt was best at that time in my life.

So my defense mechanism became referring to Charlie, referring to my son, as “their baby.” “I’m having this baby for them. This is their son.” I’d tell myself that over and over. I’d use it in conversation with strangers. I’d even go as far as to say “I’m having this baby for friends” because at that point, they had become my friends so it wasn't totally a lie but it wasn't the truth either. I was in big time denial of the way I was about to feel. I was trying to detach myself from my baby. It was my way of coping and it continued until the day I gave birth four weeks early.

As I sat cross legged in a red t-shirt and watermelon boxers in the hospital bed holding a sweet four pound, six ounce little baby boy in my lap, I cried. He wasn't theirs. He was mine. I was his Mother. He was a part of me and he was absolutely beautiful.  I saw my nose in his, our complexions were similar. As I counted ten toes and ten tiny fingers, in that special moment many, many Mothers have with their babies, I realized that I’d just been telling myself he was theirs to make it easier on me. It didn't work. It was silly. I’d tried so hard to not bond with him but the bond I felt with him those moments was absolutely overwhelming and undeniable. I wish I’d fully experienced, accepted, and enjoyed that pregnancy as my own because sadly it will probably be my last full term pregnancy ever and I spent most of it pretending he wasn't mine.

I’m not the only birthmother I know who has told herself this – who used this defense mechanism to cope and make it through the difficult process of placing a child for adoption. Did you do this during your pregnancy? How do you feel about it now? 

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Forgotten Birthmoms

You know I've been on this kick of trying to find out where the rest of 'us' are. According to research, both mine and others, there are possibly millions of us out there who hold the title of 'birthmom' still living. Yet where are our support services? where are our programs? where is the compassionate response to our grief?

In a traditional, pro-life pregnancy center there are support groups for women who have previously terminated a pregnancy. In those groups they find support, acceptance and hopefully forgiveness for their choice.

In a traditional, pro-life pregnancy center there are support systems in place for women who find themselves unexpectantly pregnant and choose to parent the child. In our local center, for example, ladies can attend classes during their pregnancy that include CPR, labor and delivery and how to care for a newborn. After their bundle of joy arrives, they can stay on for two years to further their parenting education all the while earning points redeemable towards diapers, wipes, formula and clothing.

In that same pregnancy center, there is all kinds of verbal support for adoption. There are referrals to adoption agencies available. And if you're lucky, you may get to talk to someone like me, someone who's been there and can lend support and a listening ear.

But that's it. That's all. No follow up. No rewards. No programming. No two year support group.

So that makes me wonder. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Did the support systems come first making the way easier for single parenting? Or did the era of single parenting come first with the need for support systems following?

And does that apply to adoption? Would it make a difference on the number of children placed if more support systems were offered? Would it increase the number of women willing to come out of the birthmother closet and tell their stories?

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Threads of Feeling

Recently my family traveled back in time to Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia. My daughter is studying that time period this year in history and we thought it would be fun to build a vacation around some history.

I can remember going there as a child and how other-worldly I remember it being. The costumed townspeople are all very well read as to their roles and the specifics of that time period. I learned so much!

Anyway, my daughter took a couple of classes at the Art Museum so one day we were in there and I was wandering around. I came across an exhibit entitled Threads of Feeling and, having no idea what I was in for, started looking around.

Inside the glass cases I found books full of scraps of fabric left as tokens and identifiers when moms left their children at this hospital or orphanage. In the 19 years the Foundling Hospital was up and running, it took in some 17,000 babies. About 11,000 of them died and 152 of them were eventually collected by their mothers.

The hospital got so busy at one point that when mothers came to the door with their babies, they had to reach their hand into a bag full of balls and draw out either a white or a black one to see if the baby would be allowed to stay. What about the babies that didn't get admitted? If the circumstances were so dire that the mother would take them to that place to begin with, how desperate were they? And what happened to them after being denied safe harbor?

This was a different time and while perhaps births to young women not yet married may have been low, there were obvious issues in caring for children. I wish I had been able to go on a tour and hear more of the backstory. Emotionally, this exhibit slapped me in the face. I was not prepared for what the exhibit was about or what I was going to see.

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.  

Easy Way Out?

Recently The Skeptical Mother posted a photograph on Facebook of a young woman with her newly-born daughter. Though I haven't been able to confirm the story, the photo was posted under the description that it was taken moments before the baby was placed into the arms of an adoptive family. And though someone accused the story of being a fake, and probably the "agenda of pro-lifers", I find that assumption kind of silly since, photo or no photo, birthmothers exist, and that moment before the child is handed to the adoptive parents is a very real one.
Thousands of likes and comments ensued and I tried to keep up, scanning for negative remarks before they were thankfully deleted by the host. It's always amazing to me to see the things people find necessary to say, but I only want to focus on one comment for today (though I really would like to gather up common negative attitudes and misconceptions so that I could address them here).

"Way easier to give up than brave the adversity" and hints of the birth mother "taking the easy way out" stuck out to me.

Though it's very easy to react out of pain and hurt, something important we should remember when addressing those who are critical is to have compassion; it's the very thing we wish they would show, so it doesn't make much sense to stoop to their level with anger and sarcasm.

From the outsider's point of view, I can see what would make someone jump to this conclusion: black-and-white, shallow thinking. One route requires raising a baby and the other doesn't, therefore choosing the second route must be inherently easier.

I'll have to say that it wasn't what would be easiest for me that prompted me to make my decision. Like I've said, we planned on parenting for seven months, and the one time we seriously sat down to consider adoption before that, we both felt physically ill and discontinued the conversation.

Adoption did not seem easy or appealing. It was gut-wrenching and the opposite of what we wanted. The thought of going on alone after the birth of our child was too much for our hearts to bear at that time.

But time went on and I started looking at everything as a mother, with consideration of my son. Our relationship was deteriorating ...what effect would this have on our son? We were living paycheck to paycheck, and disagreed on how to spend or save our money, how would we afford a child? Our families were completely at odds and full of drama and disdain, what would this environment do to a growing, impressionable child? What about the fights? The drinking? Abuse? Screaming? Broken lamps and holes in the walls? Irresponsibility? Distrust? Depression? Lack of goals in life? Selfishness? Immaturity?

How could we take the easy way out and do what we wanted, instead of what this baby needed?

So, what did that mean for me after I became a birthmother?
I changed forever. I didn't completely mature overnight, but I wasn't the same teenager ever again.

Going home without a child is not the same as never having a child or never being pregnant; your mind and heart are forever affected and unfortunately the "out of sight, out of mind" rule doesn't apply. For the first couple of years (for me, at least) that's almost all you can think about, dream about. It's lonely and painful. It's depressing and sometimes embarrassing. Personally, I was left longing to have children; it became my goal in life, whereas before becoming pregnant, I hadn't given thought to being a mother. There's the decision of when to tell someone you're interested in dating, whether to shed light on your odd behavior at work (running to the bathroom crying, withdrawing from co-workers, glaring at families with babies...) or to save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation.

As you're healing, sometimes being a birthmother defines you and you scrutinize every acquaintance, wondering if or when you should tell them. Sometimes telling others isn't an option, sometimes even your family never knows, and you're forced to deal with your grief inwardly. And there is grief. So much grief. Sadly, the grief may be disabling and destroying when there isn't support and guidance on how to heal properly.

And then someday you may have children again, and all you can do is compare to your last pregnancy. Sometimes you're overcome with unexplainable fear or feelings of detachment, as though you only know how to deal with a joyous pregnancy through coping strategies.

And on top of all of it, you get to deal with judgmental and inappropriate comments from people who have never been in your shoes or even heard your story.

Some people are supportive, and yes good things happen after an adoption: I took care of my education and cleaned up my act. Why? Because I told myself I never wanted to take advantage of the decision I had made. I wanted R to be proud of me. I wanted him to see that it wasn't in vain - not for him, not for me. 

Whether parenting or adoption is chosen, there will be hardship, there will be downs, there will be ups, smiles and tears, rewards and heartbreak. Neither of them are easy, both come with costs and hardship. Even as a birthmother, I still only intimately know my own situation, and I can't throw out the blanket statement that says adoption is always or never the answer. Truly, we cannot judge each other so blindly.

But I can say, placing your child with an adoptive family is not the easy way out.
Or, to quote The Happiest Sad: "It’s not easy and it’s not an out."

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When Did You Know?

I've heard many different stories about how and when expectant parents chose adoptive couples, and how their experience affected the openness and closeness after the adoption.

I'm conflicted on whether I think there's an "ideal" situation, because what may work for one person may bring more difficulty to someone else. I didn't consider adoption until seven months and we didn't choose a couple until shortly before my delivery. This naturally meant we hadn't developed a relationship with the parents, so our updates following were more formal than those of my friends who described their relationships and contact as very close and open.

However, unlike one would expect, my late change of mind didn't make the decision harder. I was always a tomboy, never a girly-girl. I dreamed of owning and breeding horses, not getting married and having children. I watched cats and dogs for money growing up, instead of babysitting like so many of my peers. I was raised an only child and just never really had experience with children or motherliness. I'd imagine this was a big reason for my detachment during pregnancy. Even with my next pregnancy and this current one, I am just not a rub-the-belly, singing-and-talking-to-baby-in-the-womb kind of momma.

All of that goes out the window when the baby is born, though, don't misunderstand. I cried in the delivery room and spent as much time as possible with R while I had the chance in the hospital.

But thinking about my experience and hearing all of the different stories of other birthmoms, or expectant parents who later change their mind about placing with an adoptive family, always intrigues me.

So, what about you? Did you grow close to the adoptive family throughout your pregnancy? If so, did that make it easier or harder to make your decision? Were you naturally attached to you pregnancy or did you work to stay detached?  Do you wish things had happened differently?

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Who Am I?

My name is Bethany and I am honored to be one of the new bloggers for BirthMom Buds. But, WHO AM I?

I am a mother. I am a mother to my pre-teen daughter, “LadyBug”. I am also a mother to someone else’s son. I was “Frogger’s” mom first. I was his mom for 2 years, 6 months, and 10 days. THEN he became someone else’s son.

On some days, it feels like that spring day was just yesterday. Other days, it seems as though it was so long ago it never happened. Most days it feels just like it was, just over 15 years ago.

I was 17 when I found out I was pregnant. I felt as though I was so much older than I was. I had spent a long time living with a much older man and raising his children. He was physically abusive, but it was my mission to be there for his daughters. I was stable for them and I loved them. Then I was pregnant. That is when it hit me that ultimately I had no control over what happened with his children. But, I was ultimately in charge of what happened to the child that was growing inside of me.

I left one night to go to the “store”. In reality, I went to the airport to escape 1,000 miles away. My father was amazing. At the time I felt he was overbearing, controlling and so incredibly disappointed. While all of those things may be true, I now know it was because he loved me. He wanted to protect me.

Throughout the years, and especially in the beginning of the adoption, a lot of people asked me “How?”. How could I parent for 2 ½ years and then just “give” him away? I did not “give” my son away. I made a plan for his future. I made a choice for him that has been the hardest decision I have ever had to make. It was not about me. It was not about what I wanted or what I needed.  I made a choice to give my son a life less likely to be defined by financial struggle. I made a choice to give him two parents instead of one. I made a choice to give him love by allowing someone to raise him and parent him that could give more than just the infinite amount of love that I could give him.

I do not regret my decision in the least, although, at times it can be overwhelming how much I wish it was different back then.  I am excited to be able to share my story and to hear stories from all of you. I am sure I will cover the period of time that I was simply, mom, or “mummy” as Frogger called me, but also the roller-coaster I call life since placement.

So, WHO ARE YOU?

Second Chance Mother

Hi friends! If you're like me, you love a good memoir especially when it's one you can relate to. I'm not sure when I downloaded this, but I came across it the other day on my kindle and have fought hard to put it down.

The author is so relatable and real about her forced adoption, the pain and turmoil of her years apart from her son and then her reunion. She writes so that the reader feels that they are experiencing this part of her life alongside her. Her train-of-thought style has certainly captured my attention.

Have you ever thought about writing your story? I have a draft in my drawer. Maybe someday I'll do something with it. But I think if for no other reason, it's important for us to have our stories written down for the children we place, the children we parent and all the other family members involved.

Even those of you in open adoptions, I'm sure there are things you don't want to tell your birthchild or their adoptive family. But someday you may want them to know things. And who knows when that day will come? or if you will be around to share them?

As you can tell, this book has me thinking about my own experience but also my legacy to my family. Funny how a book can do that. Happy reading!

Looking for Myra

Time for my yearly lost roommate post. Last year's post, Dear Myra, pretty much sums it up. But since it's been a year since I last looked for her, guess I'll give it another go.

Myra was my roommate at the maternity home. Of course at the time, we were closer than we were to our own sisters. Nothing could come between us -- not houseparents, not our situations, not even our families. We were thick as thieves we were.

Our babies were born several months apart, but we kept in touch after she left in December. She came back for Katie's dedication ceremony in March. After that it was letters and phone calls and visits. She was older than me, so when we did get together, we could go where we pleased because she had a driver's license.

But real life has a way of seeping in and while I was trying to finish high school, she was off to college to make a life for herself. We lost touch so long ago it's hard to remember when exactly we had our last communication.

Amazing how shared experiences can bond you to someone else for life. There's not a year that goes by that I don't long to find her and reconnect.

My, if you're out there, I'm still looking. Hopefully someday we will meet again.

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Running the Race

Out shopping the other day I happened upon an Ironman Triathalon. Some of those guys and gals had been running for hours in the pouring rain. Some of the people on the sidelines were walking by without even noticing. Some were cheering and hollering. Shouts like “Way to push through!” and “You go girl!” rang through the air. Still other onlookers carried noisemakers like whistles and shakers.

This life is so hard, have you noticed? We all need encouragement to keep us going for the race. Sometimes we need a smile. Other times we need to see a friendly face or hear a friendly voice. And still other times we need a safe place to cry.

So who is cheering for you? In the triathalon example, there were different types of encouragers. Maybe you are somebody who likes to cheer and be vocal. Maybe you are gifted at giving advice, or lending a listening ear.

Maybe you are called to pray and support people in a more behind-the-scenes kind of way. There’s a gal in my church who writes notes to others comforting them or encouraging them.

But notice some of the onlookers walking by the race did nothing. They didn’t even seem to notice a race was going on. As one of the cheering onlookers, I couldn’t understand how others could not see the human struggle going on right in front of them. How could they not see that the athletes were pushing themselves beyond exhaustion to meet a goal?

That’s why I’m so thankful for my own support system, my own group of onlookers that cheer me on. Some of them are vocal and call regularly to give advice and support. Others email regularly when they have time to stay connected and to encourage me. And still others like to make a lot of noise for no reason at all.

How about you? Do you encourage those around you? Do you notice when others are struggling? or are you so caught up in your own world that you hardly notice?

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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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Being Prepared

Image credit: bestbirthcontrolpillsite.com

The following post may be viewed as controversial.  This is my opinion only, and should not be viewed as the opinion of BirthMom Buds as a whole or individually.

The subject is birth control, or lack of it.  All birthmothers have lack of birth control or birth control malfunction in common, no matter how old or young we are.  My problem is not being emotionally ready for the decision we must face should we get pregnant and not being prepared to raise a child for whatever reason or reasons we have.  I personally did not feel financially prepared to raise a child, nor did I feel emotionally stable enough to properly care for her.  Becoming a parent is a lifetime decision and should not be entered into lightly, as I’m sure all parents would agree with whether they also happen to be birthmothers or not.

When we have sex, we should all think about the possibility that we could get pregnant as a result, no matter how careful we are.  Too often we think only in the present – how good sex feels (and it does), and we don’t consider the fact that sex was originally created for procreation.  We were created to make more of us.

Being a birthmother is NOT easy.  I never wanted to raise children of my own, and I love children.  The idea of being a parent scares me.  I admire those people who choose to parent, but I’ve always known it’s not something that I wanted to do.  Biologically the urge to parent my daughter is stronger than I was prepared for, and much stronger than I thought it would be.  I cannot imagine the difficulty of having to make the decision to become a birthmother more than once.  But that’s precisely why after I became a birthmother, I’ve now become a major proponent of making certain I won’t have to make that decision ever again.  Obviously the only 100% effective birth control method short of getting the uterus completely removed so carrying a baby becomes impossible is to not have sex in the first place.  Since that’s an unreasonable expectation for a large majority of the population in general, including me, we must be emotionally and mentally prepared for the “consequences” of our actions.

When we choose to place our children into homes other than our own, we choose unselfishly.  We choose to give them a life greater than the one we feel we could give them.  It’s an extremely difficult decision to make.  It is the ultimate parenting decision – putting the life of our child over the wants of our hearts.   If we become birthmothers and then make the decision to have sex, we’re taking the chance that we might have to make the difficult decision of placing again should we not be prepared the next time around for parenting.  To make it perfectly clear and plain, I’m not in any way trying to suggest that I don’t believe birthmothers shouldn’t have more children in the future at all.  I’m simply saying that we should use some form of reliable birth control until we are prepared emotionally, physically, and financially to have those children.  We become birthmothers because we don’t feel our lives are in a good place to raise those children, right?  So it only makes sense that we’d want to make certain that we’re in a better place to have children before we get pregnant again.  My heart breaks for the children of those mothers who are not yet ready to parent but who choose to parent anyway because they aren’t can't handle placing another child.  I don’t blame them for choosing to parent after becoming birthmothers initially.  I’m quite certain that were I in that position that it would be an even more difficult decision than becoming a birthmother for the first time.  That is why we need to be mindful of the decision we’re about to make, every time.

Pleased To Meet You

Hello, my name is Lacy, and I am a proud birth mother.

I was 16 years old when my life changed forever. I had been going through a very rough patch. My father had just split, my mom was working well over 60 hours a week to keep our heads above water, and the world as I knew it was crumbling around me. Then I met a boy. A very charming boy.

It wasn’t long after I started dating this boy that sex came into the picture. Six months after we started dating I discovered I was pregnant. Getting pregnant at the age of 16 was certainly not something I had planned on. Being that I was 16 years old and facing an unplanned pregnancy, I was forced to make a decision. My very first decision was to have an abortion. I even made an appointment at a local clinic. Needless to say, I never went through with it. My son’s birth father was very insistent that we keep--and parent--our child. He reassured me that he would step up to the plate, and take care of us.

After a few months passed my relationship with my son’s birth father began to fall apart. He became both physically and mentally abusive. He refused to get a job, or even attempt to get a job. On top of all the problems I was having with my relationship, I was also facing a change in my living situation. My mother’s house went into foreclosure and she was left with no choice but to sell it. We were forced to move in with my grandparents. Reality was starting to hit me.

I started thinking about adoption when I was about 5 months pregnant. I had finally got the nerve to break it off with my son’s birth father, and things between us were worse than ever. I came to the conclusion that the environment was just too toxic for my child. After all, we always want what is best for our children. I certainly couldn’t provide for this child, and his birth father was beginning to show his true colors. Adoption was the only viable option. My son’s birth father, however, was absolutely not on board. As arrogant as it may sound, I am convinced he wanted me to keep the baby so he could have a link to me for the rest of our lives. If he truly cared about our baby, he wouldn’t have physically abused me while I was pregnant. After I discussed the idea of adoption with him, things between us became much worse. He harassed me, threatened me, and taunted me with promises of signing away his parental rights. “If you get back together with me I will sign away my rights, but if you leave me I will get that baby” he would say.

I went forward with planning an adoption in spite of the birth father‘s objections. I met a couple through a close family friend. They were everything I wanted for my son. They were fun, energetic, good-hearted people. I decided to go through the agency they had been working with. I was assigned a case worker and things were moving forward.

The entire time I was planning the adoption I never stopped to worry about myself. All of my worries were focused on the uncertainties of the situation. I was never quite sure weather my baby would leave the hospital with me, his birth father, or his adoptive family. The stress was overwhelming. By the time my due date rolled around I was ready to get the ball rolling. As I previously mentioned, I never actually stopped to worry about the pain I might feel handing my baby to someone else.

My son was born on the evening of October 3rd, 2002. We gave him a name (which I assure you was lovely), but I will refer to him as Bee. I didn’t spend much time with him in the hospital. I was sore, stressed, and still racked with worries over his future. His adoptive parents were able to take him home from the hospital. Though I didn’t have him in my arms when I left the hospital, I still left feeling like a proud mother. I felt joyful and hopeful for his future. “He will accomplish great things one day” I thought.

The joy was short lived, however. A few days after leaving the hospital I was served with court papers. Bee’s birth father was going through with his promise to pursue full custody. A court date was scheduled, and off I went. I testified in a court. I spoke of all the turmoil between Bee’s birth father and myself. It was painful, and nerve-racking.

Fortunately for Bee and I, the decision was in our favor. Bee’s birth father had his rights terminated. I officially placed my son into an open adoption weeks later. And so it began…the life of a birth mother.

I’m 25 years old now and while I’m pleased with the decision I made 8 years ago, each day is a challenge. I look forward to sharing my story with everyone, and here’s to hoping I learn a thing or two along the way!

Cheers!

-Lacy

Photo by: Hilde Vanstraelen / biewoef.be

An Introduction: Sarah's Story

Hello all!


Introductions are in order :) My name is Sarah: I am a senior at the University of Central Florida studying Social Work, I am a sister, daughter, girlfriend, and friend; I own a pembroke welsh corgi named Pepper, who is extremely feisty and I am a birthmother. The story of my son, ML(his initials), and I is very long and complicated so I'll try to give you the short version with more details as I continue to blog.


Two years ago I was attending a college in another state. I had a boyfriend who decided to visit me against my parents wishes and suffice it to say we were incredibly stupid, stubborn and I was naive. I didn't think I was pregnant until I got home for winter break. My mom commented on how I was always sleeping and wondered if I was pregnant. I, of course, denied everything and anything. I privately took a pregnancy test and found out I was but I continued to deny it. On the break, while I was less than three months pregnant, I rode roller coasters and I drank alcohol and I did everything that as a pregnant woman should not do. In January, when I went back to school, I started losing a lot of weight and convinced myself again that I couldn't be pregnant because I was losing so much weight. The school found out I was pregnant and made me call my parents and tell them. After a lot of drama with the school I asked my mom if I could just come home. My mom drove with my then boyfriend to pick me up and bring me home.


At home I found more peace than at school. My parents were shocked and they went through stages of anger and disappointment but they rallied behind me and gave me a ton of support. I at first had decided that my boyfriend and I would work towards marriage and raise our son together. To make a long part of this story short, at 8 months pregnant he told me he was in love with someone else and wanted to be with her over our son and I. So I said goodbye to him and found myself lost as to what to do. I didn't want G in my life or in my son's and I knew that if I raised my son I would have to see G and that my son would be affected. My mom and I looked into adoption and talked with a few good friends about it and we were directed to an agency. Through the agency, G's rights were terminated, however I had him involved so that he wouldn't be able to make a fuss at all after the adoption went through.


At this point I'm about to look at family profiles and decide who was going to raise my son. I had a long list of qualifications such as my son had to be their first child, they had to like music, sports, they had to have dogs and they had to want other children besides my son, etc. G and I had already named our son but I realized that the parents would decide what they wanted. I told my mom and dad that if my qualifications weren't met then I would raise my son myself. Only the best for my son. My mom told me I'd never find anyone who met all my qualifications. Before I could look at any profiles, an old friend of the family told my mom that she knew a couple that were interested in adoption and would I be willing to meet them. The only reason I said yes was because this woman was like a second mom to me.


I was extremely nervous meeting this couple as I'm sure they were with meeting me. To my surprise the people who walked in were my old youth pastors and their eldest son and daughter in law. I was shocked but happy at the same time because this was a family I knew since I was little. I had never met G and K but I knew his parents and his 3 younger brothers. I didn't really want to say anything or ask questions so my mom took the lead and asked them everything. Turns out they met everything on my list of qualifications. I had to leave for an outing with my sister but my mom stayed and talked some more with them. Later on my mom told me that the name G and K had picked out for their first son was the same name that G and I had picked out. It was then I knew that they were to be my son's parents. God had set it up in such a beautiful way.


I'm sure I'll fill you all in on the small details later. We have an open adoption and I get to see ML about twice a year and I feel like I am a part of their family. I couldn't have found better adoptive parents. G and K treat me like a sister and they are really, truly wonderful people. Through this experience I found that I want to change society's view of birthmothers. 


I hope that through this blog I can help other birthmothers in some small way :) 


Have a great week!!


~ Sarah

Introductions

Hey everyone!  I'm Monika and since this is my first BirthMom Buds blog post, I thought I'd tell you my adoption story.

Mackenzie (her name is changed to protect her) was born November 10, 2009.  Guess what?  It was a complete surprise to everyone (including me) that I was even pregnant.  I had NO idea.  Being diabetic, it's not uncommon for me to miss periods, and I wore all my own clothes all the way through.  I was about 36 weeks with her when they delivered her, so she was almost full term.  From what I gathered later, no one at the ER knew I was pregnant either until they wanted to do a test on me that required them to know whether I was pregnant or not.  You see, I was having seizures.  I had the first one at home that morning.  My roommate at the time heard me flop to the floor and when she couldn't rouse me, she called 911.  I evidently had at least one more seizure on the way to the hospital.   You see, I don't remember anything from the 10th of November (when I was admitted) to the 14th of November (when they finally released me), so I've had to piece things together the best that I know how from other peoples' stories.

I do remember NOT wanting to hold her or see her after she was delivered via emergency C-section.  I've known for a very long time that even though I love kids, I never wanted to have any of my own.  I thought originally that I would want a closed adoption so I didn't want to hold or see her in the hospital because I thought that it would be too hard on me to have to place her after holding her.  I do regret that.  I regret not holding or seeing her in the hospital, though I'm not certain how much I'd actually remember of holding her.

Without medical history on me, because I had no family in the area (my family is all in Washington state and I was living in mid-Oregon at the time), and because Mackenzie was ready to leave the hospital before I was, the state took her into their custody.  I know that they questioned my ability to make an adoption decision because I was having seizures (due to high blood pressure, not brain issues).  I'm very glad that it happened the way it did, because the additional time gave me the ability to change my mind and request an open adoption instead of a closed one.

After a couple of court dates and finally getting to meet my daughter for the first time on December 11, 2009, I was able to place Mackenzie with her adoptive parents on January 4, 2010.  It was our first time meeting each other.  We didn't even get the opportunity to even talk with each other on the phone.  I picked them by their adoption book, but I had no other contact with them.  I found out much later, almost a year later, in fact, that T & C (Mackenzie's adoptive parents) requested multiple times to have the opportunity to meet me before "adoption day," but they were ignored by our adoption agency.  Going into the meeting, my social worker told me that if I didn't like them or if something struck me as odd about them, that I would have the opportunity to change my mind about them.  That the adoption would still happen, but I would have the opportunity to pick another set of parents for my daughter.  But when I met them, I just knew.  I had no doubt that while God may not have made me get pregnant, He kept her in me despite all my "efforts" (simply from not knowing) to get ride of her, and that He allowed things to happen in my life the way they did so that I could give T and C the gift of a child they'd wanted for so long.

I still console myself with that knowledge when things get rough.  Though I've had sad and rough days (more about those later), I have an extraordinary sense of peace about the whole situation.  I know God's plan is in motion, and that He's with me through every step of the way.

Choosing a Family

That cutie right there? Yeah,that's Blake again, which must mean I am back! I can't believe it's time for post number two, and yet here I am nervously typing to you again.

This week I think we shall talk about...hmmm...why I chose the family for Blake that I chose. I know I said in my other post that I just felt it from the beginning, but I guess it was a bit more complicated than that. I have been thinking about this today more than most days because I am in a birthmother group here in Seattle and there is a woman there who is pregnant and considering (leaning heavily towards) placing. She actually asked us last night how we knew we had chosen the right families.Short of God brought them to me (I am not a faith-full person) I actually had to think about it for the first time.
I knew that H & T were very stressed by their inability to have children of their own, as most acouples are. Wait, I should start at the beginning, makes things more logical I suppose. So H (adad) was Erik (biodad)'s boss. Erik went to H one day confused and told him about our situation. After H found out we were considering (really, had decided on) adoption, he gently told Erik that he and T were also considering adoption, just from the other end of the spectrum. H &T are very hard working, down to earth people. Each comes from a big family, where there is no shortage of love. I knew that I wanted my child to go to a home where he would know the value of hard work, not be spoiled for spoiled's sake. Does that even make sense? I hope so. H & T have been together since high school, I knew that this was not a new romance, but something seasoned, that was ready for the struggles of a child.

When Erik and I would make the 5 mile trip to their house for my (almost) weekly visits, there was no awkwardness. Yes, I was pregnant with what could be their child, but they also knew I was a person. That meant the world to me. I actually remember telling them that they could only have Blake if I could tell everyone H was my baby-daddy. I know its corny now, but we were that comfortable. T came to every one of my doctors appointments and was very excited for everything. I knew that she would love Blake. I guess the real reason I knew that they were the family for my son was that they had waited so long, weathered so much together, and yet could still laugh about it. I have told this story a thousand times, but what really cemented it was when I was at the hospital in labor and Erik, T and I had two minutes alone together. T looked at me, and with all the love in her heart, said 'If you guys decide you can't do this, you can have our baby stuff." I knew she wanted this baby, but at that moment, I knew she wanted the best for him, no matter where he was.

I know now that they are the right family because Blake tells T that she is his best friend, that when he grows up he wants to be just like H. Little things like that break my heart but heal it all at the same time.

How did you ladies know?