No, this is not a post in which I talk about how M and I are switching our focus to adoption. That is still a long way down the road. Rather, I would like to talk about someone else with whom I have discovered I have a lot in common--the birth mother.
All of my life, I have been resolutely pro-life. No, I was never a sign-carrying activist, but because of the PCOS I always assumed I'd have difficulties procreating, and I wanted to prepare myself to become an adoptive parent. In order for there to be children to adopt, there must be birth parents who choose not to abort. And so I would tell anyone who asked that I believed in giving life a chance. There are plenty of parents who would happily adopt that unplanned child growing inside its mom's belly.
(Ironically, M and I were forced into the position of choosing whether we would terminate our own pregnancy. I still struggle with guilt over this, and probably always will. I must remember that ultimately, the life inside me never had a chance to begin with. That was the difference.)
As M wheeled me out of the hospital a couple of weeks ago, I suddenly felt a kinship with birth mothers who had made that incredibly unselfish, loving choice. Sure, they were leaving behind a living infant, while I was leaving behind a stillborn fetus. But we had something in common: We had both experienced labor and delivery, and we were both leaving the hospital with empty arms. I sobbed because I was leaving my child in the hands of strangers. The birth mother sobs for the same reason. Except, I would imagine that in many ways it is harder for her. She goes through nine months of discomfort and a full-blown labor (yes, my stay in the hospital was hard, but I must admit that the pushing was a cinch), and she has nothing. No wonder so many birth moms change their minds at the last minute. Even Danielle on "Desperate Housewives" felt the maternal bond as she held her son.
I haven't changed how I feel about abortion or adoption. I think I just feel a bit more understanding for birth moms than I had in the past. It is a hard, hard thing to give up a child--whether voluntarily or involuntarily.
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14 comments:
I am so very sorry for your loss.
I am writing in the hopes that you will continue your education and compassion, and also for anyone else who reads here...
You state how you used to think: "there must be birth parents who choose not to abort."
The term "birthparent" means a mother who has relinquished a child to adoption. It is falling out of use totally, but is most especially pejorative, coercive (and grammatically incorrect) when used in regard to an expectant mother.
More importantly, it is unkind to mothers and to adoptees to associate abortion and adoption. It makes an assumption that mothers wh relinquish are more likely to have considered abortion than those wh do not relinquish - an assumption that is unproven. Associating the terms as you did instills in adoptees the feeling that they need to be any more grateful to be alive than anyone else.
"I suddenly felt a kinship with birth mothers who had made that incredibly unselfish, loving choice."
Mothers who relinquish chidlren for adoption do not make a "choice" to do so. No one wakes up one morning and decides they are going to have a baby and give it someone else -- though some paid surrogates do that. Having a choice implies options. Relinquishments -- domestic and international -- are almost always the result of a lack of options. Every adoption begins with a tragedy - a family who have not received the resources they need to remain together.
And, finally, the difference between us is not just that we carry our babies for nine months and labor...it is that WE have a living child "out there' somewhere who's well-being we are always concerned and worried about. That is something you, or any mother whose child dies at birth or later does not have.
I know all too well because I have experienced both losses. I lost my daughter first to adoption in 1968 and again to death in 1995.
While I appreciate your compassion, I have not walked a mile in your shoes nor you in mine, so please do not presume to know how we feel.
I hope that you will continue to learn and if you still feel a desire to parent a child and cannot have one, I hope you will think about doing so via foster care or guardianship and not require such a child to be severed from his family of origins...perhaps even work toward family preservation.
You're right.
It's terrible to have to leave your child behind with stragers for good, whether liveborn or not.
I really hope that you have a pregnancy unaffected by tragedy soon, Ann. I won't repeat assvice I got about pregnancy making pcos better for a while, but I did start ovylating on my own for a few months after my pregnancy ended,
xx
J
Ann, there's a post called circumspection on stirrup queens that might apply to this entry for reasonns I shan't go into here.
Also, I won't start tit-for-tat commenting, but I cannot stand completely silent while you recieve a bollocking (no matter how polite or right or whatever) by somebody without leaving a contact addy. I ignored it originally, not wanting to stir things up, but it bothers me.
Especially now, and especially with a brief 'I am sorry for your loss'. The timing sucks.
Mirah, you have some valid points, but perhaps a shorter comment with a request to discuss it via email with Ann would have been politer than shooting and running semi-anonymously, so to speak.
J
BTW, D'oh to me, the reference was to the SQ post because of my reply there, but I've said it here. There's no secret message in the post itself that applies to your good self.
xx
J
I don't know what it's like to be in your shoes or the birth mother's shoes, but I think in a lot of ways your situation is more difficult. You wanted this baby so badly, and had every reason to think you'd watch him grow up and experience many major life milestones. I'm sure he will be in your heart forever, and I hope you are able to find peace with this terrible, terrible tragedy.
Ann, I can't imagine you going through life not wondering if your son is happy and ok where he is, even though where he is may not be on this earth.
I am sorry one of Job's Comforters has shown up in your comments section.
To the essentially anonymous poster: please don't compare suffering. Loss is loss. Let's be kind to each other, especially to those whose loss is quite raw.
I saw your request on the Lost & Found section....I don't know if you've ever been to www.aheartbreakingchoice.com, but it may help.
I am so sorry for your loss and am keeping you and your family in our prayers.
You're welcome. I hope that you can find some support there, and I'm sorry that I even had to give you the information! I have struggled with fertility issues for a few years now and have had two miscarriages, but I don't really blog about it. I try to keep things a little more lighthearted over there since it's mostly family and friends who read. Maybe sometime I'll start a more personal blog, but this works for me for now. =)
Shame on Mirah for not leaving a place to reply and for her to pass judgement on your personal feelings during a difficult time.
I don't want to give that post attention but I do want to say that she is obviously a person who is suffering her own pain and has trouble being sensitive to someone else's pain.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. It makes sense to me what you said about leaving the hosptial. It is something that a birth mother must feel anguish over in a similar way. I have a friend who was recently reunited with his birth mother and she expressed her sad feelings when she left the hospital without him.
I hope your heart is healing in some way...a little at a time. You are in my thoughts.
Ann,
No one should have to leave a child behind. It is that simple. And I am so sorry that you had to.
I wish I had something more profound to say...
Hugs and prayers that the colors start to shine again,
Stacie
Ann, I too am so sorry for your loss. I wish you the best of luck in trying again. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
And I echo the other posters. It seems as though the first commenter has her own issues to work out and should maybe start her own blog instead of using your comment area as her soapbox.
I enjoyed reading your post. Take care. Hugs.
A thoughtful post. I think as we go on in life and are a little bit aware we can't help but grow in empathy for others.
I'm deeply sorry for your loss.
I have not read the book, but my therapist recommended Unspeakable Losses by Kluger-Bell. The description on Amazon lists medical termination as one of the topics in the book. It might be worth looking into. You would probably be better off ordering it online rather than going to a book store.
I hope this helps. My email address is apberard@juno.com.
Take care,
Anne
Ann,
Two books I can recommend highly are "A Time to Decide, A Time to Heal" by Molly Minnick, Kathleen Delp, and Mary Ciotti, published by Pineapple Press. Minnick has other books on the subject of termination as well, although I'm not completely sure of the titles so I don't want to print the wrong titles.
Second book is "Help, Comfort, and Hope After losing Your Baby in Pregnancy or the First Year" by Hannah Lothrop. It has many different sections on medical termination, as well as a multitude of resources, ideas, questions, and practical suggestions.
About the previous posts, Ann, I'm adopted, (as well as infertile, and a bereaved mother) and I read a lot of adoptee blogs and first mother blogs. I wish the first poster had emailed this, but I know that the reason she didn't is because she didn't want to let some of this stand without discussing it further.
Sort of the problem with controversial post subjects. I've certainly had this happen myself a number of times, and been surprised when it became an issue in the comments.
That said, please know that she is correct in every single thing she wrote. I'm sorry to say it, but when you mentioned the two a-words together I flinched, and almost cried. There is no connection between abortion and adoption rates. Zero.
I do know what you were trying to express and leaving the hospital empty-handed is one of the worst memories of my life.
I'm sorry you had to go through this, and I hope that these books help.
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