Adoption is scary. There is SO much fear with the unknown. The "other sides" that force us to act and do so many things based on our lack of understanding.
Never let fear dictate your relationships. You will be greatly deprived of something magical.
I had the incredible opportunity to attend a Steering Retreat for the upcoming CHOOSE JOY EVENT in Palm Springs this past weekend. I knew that we would talk about the event, I knew that we would talk about Adoption and I knew that we would all share our stories....but what I didn't know was how I was going to feel through this process. What happened almost put me on the floor.
It takes a lot to ruffle my feathers. I have seen so much and experienced so much that I forget sometimes what it feels like to have one of those core shaking moments....those reminders that God brings to us to keep us focused, to keep us humble and to HIT US LIKE A TRUCK so that we will get out of our own damn way.
I love Birth Mothers. I always have. This journey of mine started because of my overwhelming desire to connect with women who, like myself, chose adoption when at a crossroad. I wanted to know them, to understand them, and to serve them.
But I have a great conflict in emotion because I have a deep and overwhelming love for the Adoptive Families. The woman that adopted my son is a part of me. We are connected.
As I think back to some of those precious moments with her I am deeply humbled.
I learned something so sacred and special that day. There are very few things in this world that are more precious and more amazing to a mother than hearing their baby cry for the first time. The second he came into this world, I wanted him close. They placed my son on my chest and he cried.
That sound, that precious, sacred sound filled the room. My heart was breaking. I knew that I was sharing that very first cry with someone else. That cry wasn’t just for me. I knew that out in the hall, listening and waiting through that door was his mother. I know that when she heard the very first cry of our son, she wept.
People always ask about him with them and what that is like for me. I just smile and say "he looks like his dad." He belongs in that family; he is a part of their family.
Birth Mothers can be proud creatures. We need to be a little proud. We need to be validated and lifted up in strength for our choices. We need that to put one foot in front of the other.
I think that we sometimes blur the line between needing to be lifted in love and light and needing to be lifted in praise and entitlement because of our choices.
Let me make one thing very clear in my experience. I am not a "proud" Birth Mother. I am not proud of the choices and decisions in my life that made me a birth mom. I am not proud that I got pregnant, I am not proud that I strongly considered abortion and I am NOT proud that I had to put myself in a position to make the choice of adoption to begin with.
If I am being honest, the majority of my pain and anger during those first years after placement was really directed at myself. I was SO angry that I was in this place. I was so angry that this was my new reality...and I could only point that finger at myself.
I truly believe that in the worst circumstances I made the best possible choice. I truly believe that I did what was right given ALL the information at the time. Has that changed? maybe. Does it all look different almost 10 years later? absolutely. But that is a choice that I made.
This past weekend I sat in a room full of amazing women. Women that shared the sacred and emotional experiences of Infertility, countless miscarriages and their deepest and purest desires to become a mother.
Some were called to become a mother through Foster Care, some through Domestic + International Adoption.
One by one they shared their hearts. They shared their pain and their struggle. They shared their hope and their faith. They shared their prayers and their triumphs.
They were open, honest and vulnerable. They didn't hold back, they didn't sugar coat and they didn't pretend.
I felt like I was trespassing. Like I was hearing some secret sisterhood code that only this elite group of women were allowed to hear. So many times I felt like I needed to honor their privacy and leave the room. As I leaned against the back wall and just listened and watched I could not stop the tears from streaming down my face.
The conflict of emotion almost brought me to my knees.
I had to step out for a minute. I had to remove myself, very aware of how I was feeling.
Those moments of picking a family, those first meetings, those sacred moments in the hospital, saying good-bye to my son. I was right back there. Like it was yesterday I was right back there. Engulfed in my pain and emotion, yet not wanting to be disrespectful of the realities of the other side. The women that were overcome with emotion as their babies were brought into this world, as they were becoming mothers, as they were living out their answered prayers.
I slid down the wall, crumbled to the floor. Sobbing uncontrollably. Trying to hold it in, trying to keep the sound muffled.
I am so grateful for moments like these. I am so grateful for reminders that no matter how long it has been since placement I feel great pain and loss. That no matter how "fine" I am I will ALWAYS have moments of complete and utter breakdown for the experiences in my life.
I am so grateful to be humbled to tears from the realities of the experiences of others. To truly understand those on the "other side". To see and hear and feel their experience so deeply. I am honored to know them and to call them my friends.
Almost ten years SHE has been the mother to our son. SHE is the one that has been there day in and day out. SHE has suffered and celebrated. She has been burdened and has been lifted in prayer. SHE has struggle through her own battles and fought her way to motherhood. SHE is one of the most important women in my life.
These women have read unflattering and unkind posts about "their side", about who they are in the lives of these children and about the great pain and damage they have caused.
We are all GREATLY uneducated on the sides of Adoption. We have a long way to go in learning to love ourselves and to love each other.
I will always tell my story. I will always share the realities of this journey. But I will always keep in mind the hearts that are reading it.
Thank you. You know who you are. Thank you for allowing me to come, for sharing your hearts with me and for never holding back. It is a sacred honor and I am forever changed for this experience.