Being A Child-less Mother on Mother's Day

   

      

     Mother’s Day – for many, this is a day of celebration and gratitude - a time to show thanksgiving towards the woman who sacrificed years of her own life to prepare you for yours. For others however, those feelings of gratitude are overshadowed by feelings of tremendous grief and loss. Women struggling with infertility, women that have miscarried, women that have experienced the pre-mature death of a child and even women that have chosen to place a child for adoption struggle to survive this celebration with a smile on their face and an ache in their heart. 

     Society has validated the necessity of grieving the loss of a loved one but what happens when friends and loved ones are unaware of the ongoing torment within the soul of a child-less woman - a torment that in some cases, doesn’t diminish with time? I have never struggled with infertility nor have I experienced a miscarriage. I can only imagine the pain these women struggle with on Mother’s Day and throughout the year. I have however lost a child through adoption, a unique and painful kind of loss that few people are even aware exists. 

     I am the birthmother to a son that I placed for adoption over 23 years ago. Although I never doubted the decision I made, I engaged in years of self-destructive numbing and running to distract myself from the pain and avoid my feelings of grief and loss. It was only after a friend suggested my need to grieve the loss of my son that I realized I had never allowed myself to feel the pain and loss from placement. Yes, adoption was a choice that I made and a good choice, but not all good choices feel good. This one most definitely did not! 

     Approximately 2-4% of women experiencing unplanned pregnancy choose adoption for their child. And although it is a good choice for some, it can still result in tremendous feelings of grief and loss. Knowing that her child may have a better chance at life and success if raised by another family, a birthmother willingly chooses to break her own heart for the betterment of her child. “Had I loved him any less,” one birthmother writes, “he would be here with me now.” With that choice however, comes not only the loss of a child but a lifetime of forsaken memories as the mother of that child.  

     Whether voluntarily or coerced, numerous studies reveal the impact of relinquishment on birthmothers. They include:  

• Ongoing feelings of unresolved grief. 
• Higher levels of depression and mental health issues. 
• Drug and alcohol dependency as numbing agents. 
• A lower likelihood of marriage and subsequent children, and 
• A higher chance of secondary infertility. 

     This Mother’s Day and throughout the year, there are things you can do to support the birthmothers and other child-less mothers in your social circles, your faith community, and even your family. Let me suggest a few ideas.  

• Acknowledge her mother-hood - Although she may not be parenting, she still experienced a pregnancy and may have even given birth. Let her know you are thinking of her on this special day (Mother’s Day) and that she is not forgotten. 
• Let her talk about her child - When a child-less mother is denied the freedom to tell her story, she is being asked to deny that her experience ever happened. Telling her story and talking about her child can bring healing. 
• Don’t limit her grief to your timeframe – “The only people who think there’s a time limit for grief, have never lost a piece of their heart.” Unknown 
• Lastly, if you think she needs help coping with her grief, encourage her to seek professional help to talk about it.  

     I often wonder where I would be if someone had offered this validation and support to me when I became a birthmother many years ago. Don’t misunderstand. There still would have been tremendous pain and loss but perhaps with the support of others, I could have avoided a lifetime of heartbreak and regret from the years of self-destructive behaviors that ensued. So I say Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers that engage in the hard, yet rewarding job of parenting. And to the child-less moms that are suffering in silence this month, I acknowledge you; I recognize the incredible strength that you possess as a result of your experience and I validate your journey. Never give up on your journey towards health, healing and happiness! For more information about birthmother grief, loss and support, visit www.birthmotherwellness.com. 

Interview on Adoption Perspectives Radio Show January 2015

Letting Go Was the Best Decision I Ever Made

Last year, I couldn't stand it any longer so asked my 22 year old birth son what he thought of me. We have had an open adoption for most of his life but I have spent very little quality time with him. He has always known how I feel about him but has never reciprocated those feelings. I wanted to find out if I even mattered to him or if I was just an obligation...and his response, although heart wrenching, was what I needed to hear.

I have spent every day since his birth living for him - hoping he would one day want some sort of relationship with me. And selfishly, I hoped that he would somehow miss me, yet still be grateful for the life he was given. Over the years, his amazing family included me in their lives. I am sane today by the grace of God and because of their commitment to me as well as to our son. But I discovered later from his adoptive mother that each reunion caused feelings of sadness and confusion to surface all over again for him as it did for me. It was a wound re-opened, causing a need to grieve the loss all over again. But it was worth it to me just to have him in my life.

As he grew older, became independent and able to make his own decisions, he reluctantly agreed to seeing me when I would visit his state. Each visit, especially the last one, was amazing. We interacted well and it was clear that he enjoyed our time together just as much as I did. But in the past few years he has more often than not, ignored my invitations to interact and found excuses to avoid a visit.

When he was younger, my constant desire for interaction and reunion was facilitated by his adoptive parents. I lived my life in anticipation of the next letter or picture in the mail or with hopes for another reunion. The desire to see my son came to fruition because they made it happen. But for the past few years, my longing to see him, my yearning to hold him in my arms as a mother holds her child, my desire for him to acknowledge me as another mother of sorts and my anticipation of reunions have all been denied, causing enough let down and heartache that I have had to question whether or not my heart could continue on this birth mother journey.

That brings us back to the question I asked him last fall. After realizing that I had been living my life on hold in hopes of a relationship with him and still seeing him as my son, I knew I needed to re-define my relationship with him and my role in his life and find some answers so that I could begin living again - with or without him. When I didn't get the response that I was hoping for, I knew I had to make some significant changes in my life if I was to ever move forward and have a future. I knew it was time to "let go" and attempt to "move on."

I have heard from him twice since then and most of the time, I am okay with that. Since I made a conscious effort to "move on" with my life, my heart doesn't ache as much. I rarely sense a deep longing to see him or know him better. I have been able to tend to the issues in my life that I neglected for so long.

While addressing coping strategies of a birth mother post-relinquishment, one author said, "Sometimes the best a birth mother can do is to remain in denial and numbness for the rest of her adult life." Perhaps that's more realistic. I wonder if those of us birth mothers who have "let go" are choosing denial. Denial of our heartache. Denial of our loss. Denial of the void in our lives. After all, it's not a pan of  brownies that we are walking away from, but our very own flesh and blood. Part of our soul that will never be filled by anything other than the child that we once relinquished. 

Thankful

http://adoption.com/our-placement-story/



Thankful

 

Today, a woman places her child into the arms of another. A birthmother loses a piece of her soul and the soul of an adoptive is complete. There is no anger; no resentment; just love and gratitude from two different women brought together from love, for love and to love a child.

 

Thankful. Sometimes the pain seems too intense; the loss so profound that it seems impossible to be thankful for anything. But in the midst of darkness, there is always something to be grateful for.

 

I am grateful for a woman that loves my son as much as I do.

I am grateful for a woman who sacrificed so much to raise my boy.

I am grateful that my son has a father to teach him how to be a man.

I am grateful that he has a mother to nurture him and demonstrate lasting love.

I am grateful that my son was raised with a strong faith.

I am grateful that my son had the opportunity to follow his dreams.

I am grateful that my son was able to use his athletic ability.

I am grateful that my son has had experiences that I never could have given him.

I am grateful that my son was raised in safety.

I am grateful that my son was never in want.

I am grateful that I was loved by my son's family.

I am grateful that I was included as his extended family.

I am grateful that I wasn't forgotten on holidays.

I am grateful that my son's mother was courageous enough to remember me on Mother's Day.

I am grateful that I was cared for by a wonderful adoption agency.

I am grateful that they advocated for me, my needs and my desires.

I am grateful that I have been able to use my loss to help others through theirs.

 

I could go on. I don't always feel thankful but there is always something to be thankful for. Last week, as I grieved my 23rd Thanksgiving without my son, I am still thankful for his amazing adoptive family - his real family - for making memories with him that will last a lifetime. So Happy Thanksgiving to my son and his family. Happy Thanksgiving to all the adoptive families and birth parents on this journey of love and loss. I am so very thankful for all of you! 

Denial: Avoiding the Inevitable

 

 

“Birth parents console themselves with the idea that the loss in an open adoption is really quite small. Afterall, they will be able to maintain contact and eventually have a relationship with their child...Some think about adoption in positive terms only, denying that there has been a loss at all." Portuesi, 1999

It was August 31st, 1991 that I signed relinquishment papers and my son went home with another family. It wasn't until November of 2012 that I let down emotionally and wept for the first time over the loss of my son. Of course there were many times during those years that I was sad and grieved over other losses in my life that resulted from losing my son. And a day didn't go by that I didn't miss my little boy. It wasn't until years later however, that I slowed down and realized the intensity of my loss and the profound, sometimes debilitating grief that I needed to feel.

Denial is a defense mechanism that protects a person from emotional collapse. Because birthmother grief and loss is so complex, denial becomes a daily reality on so many different levels. The reality of placement and the feelings of grief that follow are often too intense, thus requiring the need to "not feel" for a time.

Expressions of Denial
For a birthmother, denial or avoidance of grief buds it's head in so many different ways.

• Sleeping or incessant busyness, creating a distraction from grief.
• Excessive drinking and drugging, pursuit of unhealthy relationships, and overeating are numbing behaviors that provide a respite from her pain.
• Ongoing contact with the child's adoptive family can also be a form of grief avoidance
• And as Portuesi, author and reunited birthmother explains, some birthmothers focus only on the positive aspects of the adoption experience which allows them to delay the inevitable feelings of grief that must follow such a profound loss.

Don't get me wrong. Denial is not bad and at times, it's necessary. Birthparents who ultimately acknowledge their feelings of grief and loss are better able to cope with their grief and experience better grief management in the long run. If after a few months, a birthmother is unable to move past the numbness, encourage her to talk with a professional counselor, a trusted friend or family member who can help her get unstuck.

Understanding Your Grief

"Birthparents console themselves with the idea that the loss in an open adoption is really quite small. After all, they will be able to maintain contact and eventually have a relationship with their child...Some think about adoption in positive terms only, denying that there has been any loss at all." - Portuesi

My heart was pounding. My palms were sweaty. I was sure it was a heart attack! After a visit to the doctor and an EKG, the report came back negative. Medically speaking, my heart was healthy - but I knew it wasn't. It was broken and I didn't know how I would ever recover.

Grieving the loss of a loved one is a difficult journey no matter what the circumstances, but adoption-related grief is unique. Although a loss has occurred, it is often unrecognized by those outside of the adoption community. There is no ceremony or ritual acknowledging the loss. Few if any, offer comfort and support. The truth is, others may not even understand that a loss has occurred because the child is still living and you made the adoption choice. Nonetheless, your heart is still hurting and even you may be struggling to make sense of your grief.

Birth parent grief can manifest itself through a number of different ways:

• Feelings such as anger, sadness, loneliness, confusion, guilt and shock are common. At the same time, you may also feel relieved, grateful for a good home for her child and hopeful for a fresh start. These mixed emotions can leave you feeling confused and alone.
• The inability to feel much of anything; numbness
• Physical symptoms including anxiety, lack of energy, the incessant need to keep busy, hyper-sensitivity, tightness in the chest, etc.
• Questioning or second-guessing your decision and/or a pre-occupation with thoughts of the child you have placed.
• Excessive crying, overeating or lack of appetite, inability to sleep, and social withdrawal.

My pounding heart eventually subsided and I was able to move past that grief episode, but the grief hasn't gone away. I have learned to manage it and not allow it to consume me. I have learned healthy ways to cope with my grief and loss and engage in ongoing self-care.

It is normal and natural to grieve this type of loss. The grief process is ongoing and symptoms will surface when you least expect them. Feel what you need to feel. Talk it out with someone who is willing to listen. If you begin to worry that any of your grief symptoms are excessive or unhealthy, consult a physician.

Secondary Losses

As I write, I am staring out the window at a friend play so eloquently with young children in the neighborhood. I feel such admiration for her courage and even her desire to be around that age group. For as long as I can remember, I have never really been fond of elementary aged children (other than my friends kids, of course). I'm not sure why.

When I was placed at an elementary school for my first year of internship in graduate school, someone suggested that I didn't like being around them because I never had the opportunity to see my son grow up. I thought long and hard about whether or not that was actually the problem. If that were the case, wouldn't I also dislike newborns and  high school aged youth? The truth is, I adore infants and enjoy being around them when the opportunity presents itself and I spent close to 15 years in youth ministry, caring for their hurting hearts. There had to be something else that bothered me about the little people.

In recent years, I was able to process the depths of my grief and the loss of my son through adoption after years of numbing and running. I will always feel loss and there will always be an empty space in my heart for the son that I relinquished. But what has hit me more intensely in the past few years is the fact that while running from my grief, I also ran from healthy relationships that could have led to marriage and a family - a dream that I had since childhood.  

Secondary losses often tear away at the heart of a birth mother. The loss of a child, the loss of her role as mother to that child, the loss of her reputation, her friendships, the birth father of her child; for some, the loss family members who disapprove of her decision resulting in the loss of a place to live and the loss of a lifetime of security that she experienced in her home. In addition to these secondary losses, she can also experience feelings of deep depression, shame, anxiety, confusion, ambiguity about her decision and so much more. The grief for a birth mother reaches far past the loss of her child.

The seven little ones are now inside, filling the house with conversation, laughter and tears, an experience that I will never have. Perhaps they represent the loss of a dream. I will never have a house filled with little ones of my own - I am too old for that. I may never have the husband that I have longed for my entire life. I ran to far and too long for that. 

I am processing these secondary losses every day. Coming to terms with who I have become and the life that I now live. And although I am still not fond of young ones, I am learning to dream new dreams. I am trusting that there is still a beautiful, bright future ahead of me. I have deep sadness, but I also have hope for my future. I'm waiting in anticipation for what's to come. I will not give up.