How it started
I am not infertile. Neither is my husband. We now know that we both have reduced fertility. With other partners, we woul likely have not had too much trouble. But together equals 18 years of unprotected sex failing to result in a pregnancy. When we had been married 6 years, I took clomid for a few months. We didn't go any further than that. We have supported ourselves since we married at 18, but have never been wealthy. We live paycheck to paycheck, even though I make a decent salary now. We have life insurance and health insurance, but no significant savings, etc. So 13 years ago, expensive, invasive fertility treatments that had been none to destroy more than one marriage didn't seem attractive. We kept trying, I went back to college. Another five years went by and we tossed around the idea of adoption, we timidly looked into orphanages in Mexico. We signed up for a foster care seminar with catholic charities, but never went. By the time we got more serious about it, I knew I wouldn't be able to afford $20-30K for a private domestic or international adoption. We never really focused on that. I never really felt the need for a newborn. I wanted children, not necessarily a baby. But as we researched there was a lot of information about attachment disorder in older child adoptions. We were repulsed by the "trendiness" that was going on in the place where we lived at the time of adopting from Russia and then the horror stories we heard about people abandoning the adoptions because they weren't prepared for the serious mental health issues the severe neglect and abuse that life in the orphanages had wreaked on the children.
So, someone I knew casually at work gave me a phone number for the county adoption services they were using. I called. We got on a waiting list. That was the extent of the research. It just fit. I would pay only for the legal fees associated with filing the paperwork (which turned out to be only $35). The Social Workers would walk us through the process. A 'birthmother' - although even then I knew that it wasn't right to call a pregnant woman a birthmother - wouldn't "choose" us - the social workers would.
We waited for classes, we went to classes, we filled out forms, we went through a horrific excercise of the "pink sheet" where you mark what medical conditions, legal conditions, and situations you were comfortable with, went through interviews, had multiple licensing agencies visit our home and interview us. Finally almost two years after the first call to the county - we were 'ready' - now we just waited to be matched.
We were prepared and waiting for 1-2 children, at least one a girl - the oldest one not being older than 2 (the bonding research).
We had a failed match I will post about later.
I went through a period of distress. I was waiting for my child. I desperately wanted her to be safe and secure. And yet, here I was adopting through CPS. By the very definition, something horrible and awful was going to or was happening to the child. If it was not so, there would be no CPS placement. Certainly, I didn't want something to happen just so I could adopt. But it was a reality, children do not end up in the custody of the state for no reason. I felt compelled to pray constantly for the safety and welfare of my child, and I struggled with how that prayer could be answered because I knew there are/ children in CPS and I was going to adopt one. That meant something horrible they were going through. (It was ultimately an answered prayer in my opinion - the drugs were the danger, and in the long run there were no lasting disabilities or health issues- again another post later about this prayer)
Then we were matched for a six week old that was already in permanancy planning for adoption.
There was no information provided on the birthfather. The mother had arrived in the ER in labor and high. She had no prenatal care. The baby tested positive for meth at birth. The baby had never been on an apnea monitor. The baby had been in foster care since release from the hospital. CPS had taken custody of the infant shortly after birth. One court date had been held.
We brought her home and loved her instantly. We had monthly SW visits - a few health issues requiring court permission to have BJ tested for HIV, and HEP C, along with tests for Cystic Fibrosis because of breathing problems. I openly told doctors of her drug exposure at birth - hubby was uncomfortable.
When BJ was 10 months old, we finalized the adoption.
Then I became involved in online adoption communities.
I was flamed because I tried to tell people that county adoptions were not awful, nightmares that everyone was afraid of.
I was told I must think I am so special that I got an infant - that I was "bragging" that my adoption cost $35. I thought I was trying to tell them, that this was a viable option for them too. They didn't have to do that awful advertising and searching and setting up phone numbers and worrying about being scammed and getting "proof" of pregnancy.
I became insensed, hurt and angry - when people indicated that my daughter was a "drug baby" and they wouldn't consider that.
My daughter is beautiful and healthy and bright -and was loved by her birthmother and by her parents.
Then I found a special small group where I could safely share how I watched the way my daughter held her feet in a unique position and I wondered if it was genetic, did L stand like that? After 8 months or so, the group slowly parted. Then I found a group of adoptive moms and I made some very lasting friendships.
Then the adoptions stuff sort of faded to the background and parenting and working and living daily life just took over. More and more hubby chooses not to discuss the adoption, she is his daughter and the rest is nobody's business. We live in a place where no one knew us when we went through the adoption. So, I talk with BJ about it as casual opportunities come up. I tell myself, now she will have the choice to share with people her story as she chooses and not have everyone - just know. But I can't bring myself to too much denial. If it is someone I don't know very well - I have my generic phrases - when BJ arrived, etc. But if a friend at work asks about something, or I am telling a story and the fact of the adoption is part of it... I tell it. I know hubby doesn't like that. But it is who we are. I can't lie about it. Though I do refuse to put it on school forms and tell doctors now only if it is pertinent. (which because of some genetic diseases is in the new patient history). I am careful about the public schools and their labels and prejudices and notorious lack of confidentiality.
Almost two years ago, I started blogging. A month ago I found a birthmothers blog ring and started reading. Tonight I felt like I should start a place to put this all down, for me, for BJ, and maybe just maybe for some interaction like I had in that small group so many years ago. Adult Adoptees, Birthmothers and Adoptive mothers, all mothers working together to cry together, support together, learn together.
I feel like I am saying the same thing again, and not the new stuff. I need to write through why first mother bothers me - figure that out beyond the platitudes. Natural mother I know bothers me for the natural/unnatural thing. It is first mother that really gets to me, but I haven't figured out why. I want to get away from the birthmother word, though that is the word BJ already knows for L. I don't want to keep using this word that bristles and hurts others. I know language is powerful. It is the way we change thought, culture, and frameworks. by first changing the words. You see all around. In anotehr example separate from the adoption community - though no less controversial. We don't say illegal aliens anymore, have you noticed? It is undocumented workers. The language conveys a shift in thinking. So too with the birthmother word. That is probably why first mother hurts. I don't want to think of anyone else as mother to BJ. L is vitally important. Part of my job as mom to BJ is to convey honor and respect for L - both because she is family, but also because of what that conveys to BJ about herself. But right or wrong -that is how I feel. I am mom. Does that mean I feel threatened? I don't thinks so, though I will think on that and write on that more. It most likely has to do with what I view adoption as - a transferring of parental rights, roles, and responsibilities. I become the mom, there is no other "mom". Even as I right that, I recognize that those are words that will upset and inflame many. But then what is L's role? She is family - yes. She is an important part of BJ - yes. But the adoption itself took away the role of mother from her. Hmm. took away. I guess that is where the beginning of "lost to adoption" comes in.
So, someone I knew casually at work gave me a phone number for the county adoption services they were using. I called. We got on a waiting list. That was the extent of the research. It just fit. I would pay only for the legal fees associated with filing the paperwork (which turned out to be only $35). The Social Workers would walk us through the process. A 'birthmother' - although even then I knew that it wasn't right to call a pregnant woman a birthmother - wouldn't "choose" us - the social workers would.
We waited for classes, we went to classes, we filled out forms, we went through a horrific excercise of the "pink sheet" where you mark what medical conditions, legal conditions, and situations you were comfortable with, went through interviews, had multiple licensing agencies visit our home and interview us. Finally almost two years after the first call to the county - we were 'ready' - now we just waited to be matched.
We were prepared and waiting for 1-2 children, at least one a girl - the oldest one not being older than 2 (the bonding research).
We had a failed match I will post about later.
I went through a period of distress. I was waiting for my child. I desperately wanted her to be safe and secure. And yet, here I was adopting through CPS. By the very definition, something horrible and awful was going to or was happening to the child. If it was not so, there would be no CPS placement. Certainly, I didn't want something to happen just so I could adopt. But it was a reality, children do not end up in the custody of the state for no reason. I felt compelled to pray constantly for the safety and welfare of my child, and I struggled with how that prayer could be answered because I knew there are/ children in CPS and I was going to adopt one. That meant something horrible they were going through. (It was ultimately an answered prayer in my opinion - the drugs were the danger, and in the long run there were no lasting disabilities or health issues- again another post later about this prayer)
Then we were matched for a six week old that was already in permanancy planning for adoption.
There was no information provided on the birthfather. The mother had arrived in the ER in labor and high. She had no prenatal care. The baby tested positive for meth at birth. The baby had never been on an apnea monitor. The baby had been in foster care since release from the hospital. CPS had taken custody of the infant shortly after birth. One court date had been held.
We brought her home and loved her instantly. We had monthly SW visits - a few health issues requiring court permission to have BJ tested for HIV, and HEP C, along with tests for Cystic Fibrosis because of breathing problems. I openly told doctors of her drug exposure at birth - hubby was uncomfortable.
When BJ was 10 months old, we finalized the adoption.
Then I became involved in online adoption communities.
I was flamed because I tried to tell people that county adoptions were not awful, nightmares that everyone was afraid of.
I was told I must think I am so special that I got an infant - that I was "bragging" that my adoption cost $35. I thought I was trying to tell them, that this was a viable option for them too. They didn't have to do that awful advertising and searching and setting up phone numbers and worrying about being scammed and getting "proof" of pregnancy.
I became insensed, hurt and angry - when people indicated that my daughter was a "drug baby" and they wouldn't consider that.
My daughter is beautiful and healthy and bright -and was loved by her birthmother and by her parents.
Then I found a special small group where I could safely share how I watched the way my daughter held her feet in a unique position and I wondered if it was genetic, did L stand like that? After 8 months or so, the group slowly parted. Then I found a group of adoptive moms and I made some very lasting friendships.
Then the adoptions stuff sort of faded to the background and parenting and working and living daily life just took over. More and more hubby chooses not to discuss the adoption, she is his daughter and the rest is nobody's business. We live in a place where no one knew us when we went through the adoption. So, I talk with BJ about it as casual opportunities come up. I tell myself, now she will have the choice to share with people her story as she chooses and not have everyone - just know. But I can't bring myself to too much denial. If it is someone I don't know very well - I have my generic phrases - when BJ arrived, etc. But if a friend at work asks about something, or I am telling a story and the fact of the adoption is part of it... I tell it. I know hubby doesn't like that. But it is who we are. I can't lie about it. Though I do refuse to put it on school forms and tell doctors now only if it is pertinent. (which because of some genetic diseases is in the new patient history). I am careful about the public schools and their labels and prejudices and notorious lack of confidentiality.
Almost two years ago, I started blogging. A month ago I found a birthmothers blog ring and started reading. Tonight I felt like I should start a place to put this all down, for me, for BJ, and maybe just maybe for some interaction like I had in that small group so many years ago. Adult Adoptees, Birthmothers and Adoptive mothers, all mothers working together to cry together, support together, learn together.
I feel like I am saying the same thing again, and not the new stuff. I need to write through why first mother bothers me - figure that out beyond the platitudes. Natural mother I know bothers me for the natural/unnatural thing. It is first mother that really gets to me, but I haven't figured out why. I want to get away from the birthmother word, though that is the word BJ already knows for L. I don't want to keep using this word that bristles and hurts others. I know language is powerful. It is the way we change thought, culture, and frameworks. by first changing the words. You see all around. In anotehr example separate from the adoption community - though no less controversial. We don't say illegal aliens anymore, have you noticed? It is undocumented workers. The language conveys a shift in thinking. So too with the birthmother word. That is probably why first mother hurts. I don't want to think of anyone else as mother to BJ. L is vitally important. Part of my job as mom to BJ is to convey honor and respect for L - both because she is family, but also because of what that conveys to BJ about herself. But right or wrong -that is how I feel. I am mom. Does that mean I feel threatened? I don't thinks so, though I will think on that and write on that more. It most likely has to do with what I view adoption as - a transferring of parental rights, roles, and responsibilities. I become the mom, there is no other "mom". Even as I right that, I recognize that those are words that will upset and inflame many. But then what is L's role? She is family - yes. She is an important part of BJ - yes. But the adoption itself took away the role of mother from her. Hmm. took away. I guess that is where the beginning of "lost to adoption" comes in.
posted by marlene at 10:44 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home