I wrote the following recently, and I realize that at times I sound very bitter. But that's the thing, sometimes I am bitter. And angry. This isn't the happy me talking. This comes from a darker place in me that isn't around much, but is there, nevertheless. I'm sure most of you reading this will fall into one of these categories or possibly more than one. This isn't about me thinking your type is bad. I'm not trying to be offensive. It is about a birthmother's perspective and really how we feel about ourselves. It's about how we think the world views us, if it looks at us at all. This is how we compare ourselves, and how we try to reconcile the fact that we in fact are mothers whether or not we ever gave birth again after relinquishment.
To normal/biological mothers- You’re the ones who did
everything right. You got married and then after an appropriate amount of time
you had children. You agree that adoption is a wonderful choice for those who
can’t conceive but you don’t ever stop and consider that somewhere out there
another woman has to give birth and give away their child. Adoption doesn’t
really touch you in a personal way. You didn’t think you knew anyone who’d
given away their baby, although I am your neighbor, your friend, or your
co-worker.
To other once teen or single mothers- You are the ones who
were in the same boat as me. Maybe you were younger or maybe you were older
when you found out you were pregnant, but you chose a different path. Maybe you
married the father of your child and lived happily ever after. Maybe you didn’t
and either have raised your child alone or have co-parented with the father
over time. You never dreamed of giving away your child. You think you loved
yours more than I loved mine. Maybe you struggled like I never did back then.
Perhaps you took assistance from the government, family or friends, but you did
what it took to keep your child and you can’t believe that I took the easy way
out. Because wow, all I did was give birth and got on with my life, right? So
simple.
To adoptive mothers- You are the ones who don’t want to be
called ‘adoptive.’ You’re the real moms. I get that. You’re the one who stayed
awake through late night feedings, and who drove car pool and saved for the college
fund. I never did any of that; not for your child. Forever in your mind, I am
less-educated than you, have loose morals and live in a lower socio-economic
status. I am the person from which you rescued your child and gave her that
proverbial better life. I am the person who couldn’t give the love she needed,
or the nice home, or the stability that you did, and I should be thankful.
To the mothers who have lost children to death- You are the
ones whose pain I understand, but yet I don’t dare to compare my experience to
yours. You didn’t choose to lose your baby/child. My grief is different because I had
a choice. You cannot imagine anyone choosing to go through the excruciating
pain of losing a child. But again, it’s different. After all, I might see my
child again someday and you won’t. I should be grateful.
To those who aborted their babies- You are perhaps as
misunderstood as I am. You may even be hated by some, and certainly judged. They
say you have no heart, but my guess is that your heart breaks just as much as
mine does. Even if it was the right decision for that time in your life, it
didn’t come without thought, or mourning. People think we just go on from
things like this, but what we really do is hide our pain and adjust to a life
which will never be the same. I didn’t make the same choice as you. I don’t
know that I could have, but I’ll defend your right to make it because I’ve been
there. And I understand. It’s not easy. None of this is easy.