The Journey I Have Endured

I recently revisited a post that I commented on a few years back. It was a thread that went on for over two weeks, and it was one of my first brushes with other mothers not of my thinking. Many had very different journeys than I had, and most were not liking what it was that I was saying. I am a firm believer in everyone having a voice, no matter what the muse is you should be heard in order for others to learn. This was one of the comments that I made there with some changes to omit names. I was feeling this today and wanted to share ...

Ladies ... the bottom line is this. We all in this sisterhood have one common and unique thread. Loss. We have all lost a child, we all have a huge hole where that little one should be. Even worse, it is not a loss that people understand nor wish to get involved with. IF someone were to loose a child to an accident or disease, people would not think twice about the grief, the pain, the sorrow of an incredible blow to one's heart ... their soul. But people do not see us as women who lost their children. They think differently because whether through force or choice, they cannot see that we too have lost children. 

Doubly worse, we have lost children that are still very much alive, living without us, not knowing how much we think about them, want to know about them, just wonder if they are at all like us. We all face battles everyday in our journey through motherhood and if we are here talking about it, then that tells me we are all brave women.

To get up everyday and face life knowing that it could all suddenly change is a fact of life for us. We never know what will set us off, we never know if pictures and updates will fill us with joy or take us back to the days when it was so new, so very hard. It takes a lot of guts and self confidence to just get through the days, we all know that. It saddens me to hear any mother say that she is not brave, especially birth mothers. We are all brave.  Brave enough to stand up for what we believe in no matter if the outlook is negative or positive, we are all here fighting together to change a system that has too many flaws to count and too little support for the one person who makes the adoption happen in the first place.

I call myself Braveheart for the journey I have endured, the ridicule that I have to right, the long explanations of who I am and why I chose the things I chose, and the longing to kiss my children every night and tell them I love them, just as a mother should. I am proud that I moved through it, and am still learning everyday what a wonderful journey (life) it can be. I think you all can find something in your heart that tells you how very brave you are. And I bet you would not have to look hard to see it.


Adding to the above, today I said this to someone else...
No matter where one may be in the journey, listening to others is something that is so important especially with adoption as a topic. 

He Gave Me Strength, That Man Of Mine

Look at the size of that BELLY! All baby in there, boy!

Bruce and I kept our romance under wraps for quite some time. The reason for that was we had so many of the same friends and IF this fling was just that, a fling, we did not want our friends to feel weird about being around us if it did not work out. I have seen that type of situation before. Good friends that try to date, it does not work out and soon there are awkward feelings for not only the couple, but for the friends that surround them. Our group of friends were pretty tight and we just did not want to put any pressure on them. I am sure some of them knew. Matter of fact, I knew it because our gazes and sly smiles were undeniable obvious: we had a shining for each other.

I had never felt so comfortable in a relationship in my life. There was no getting to know him period, he had been a good friend for years. There was no shyness, awkwardness or uncomfortable silences. We always had something to talk about or enjoy, we always had somewhere to go or people to see. And to tell the truth it was quite intoxicating to go out with him, knowing that all we wanted to do was kiss each other ... passionately! Thrilling, to say the least, I looked forward to getting off work and bidding my time until I would see him again.

This budding romance continued for many months, both of us still giddy in finding our true feelings for one another. Thinking about it now only brings a twinge of that exhilaration back, I can actually feel the butterflies in my stomach now just as I did then. (Now that is impressive after 2 decades if I do say so myself!) Neither Bruce or I grew up with our fathers in the home, so we were rather clueless as to how couples were to keep the love alive. We knew that there would be a huge learning curve to our courtship filled with many late night talks about love, life, marriage, where we would be in 10 years and of course ... how many children we wanted traipsing through the halls of our perfect little house.

It took us by surprise, the pregnancy. Believe me, I was very careful about the birth control, after all I had already had a child that I placed for adoption. It hit me like a ton of bricks, but I was truly happy that I was pregnant with the man of my life. Then the doctor revealed that there were two babies and it changed everything. I was barely 21. Bruce was 19. We were both in the middle of our secondary education, no stable jobs, no house or apartment together (I had moved back home because I lost my roommate.) We knew we loved each other and wanted nothing more than to have a family together. But the timing was off. We were so young, and still very new to our relationship. It was not a situation that I would put anyone else into. And our biggest thought was how difficult it would be to have just one baby, but two? Twice the everything. Diapers. Food. Clothing. Space. Savings. Attention. It was all a very sinking feeling to know that we would love to have children, but were not nearly ready mentally or financially to care properly for two children. Call it selfish if you like, we thought it was a very mature and thoughtful way to look at things.

In our discussions as to what we should do, how we would handle an adoption we realized that if we were to go that route I could not stay in the State of Missouri. I had enough trouble with the system the first time and Bruce was there for all of it so he knew the emotional toll that it took on me and my family. Since I had family connections in California, that is where we decided I should go. What an anguishing thing it was to leave him. I knew he was scared shit less about what was to come, and I knew he felt bad about me going it alone. He did not want to let me go that night, the evening before my plane left for Cali. He squeezed every possible moment out of that night that he could, and even ran out to my car to hug me one more time before I drove off to go home. We were heartbroken. Not with our decision, but with the situation. I cannot stress how much being from broken families can effect the way you think about things and one thing was certain: Neither Bruce nor I wanted our children to be brought up in a broken home and we could not guarantee how our love would withstand such challenges as raising twins before we were ready to.

For months he called me everyday, faithfully, to see how things were progressing. He sat and listened as I read files to him over the phone of couples that I could meet. We chose three that sounded similar to us. We looked at their religious beliefs, lifestyles, child rearing beliefs, interests, hobbies and so on. I met them and for a week we discussed the pros and cons of each until we made a decision about who we should choose. He told me time and again how strong I was, how he admired the guts that it took for me to leave everything I knew to go and find a good life for our children. He was so supportive, so caring. He sent flowers. He sent love letters. He was an amazing rock that stood right by me, so to speak, all the while working away at home to keep up his ambitions, his dreams. When the time came, when labor started, I called so that he could hop on a plane and be there for the birth. That was one thing I wanted, for him to be there when those precious souls came into this world. This was before cell phones and because of the time difference, I missed him. He had already left for work and could not be reached in any way.

Despite the fact that it was too late for him to get there in time for the birth, he made sure he was in touch once he was home and near a phone. The twins were born and within 30 minutes I was on the phone with Bruce gushing about how gorgeous the boys were. His apologies were plenty, and my understanding was abundant as we talked quietly about how much we missed each other, wanted to be together and how we would get each other through the afterlife of walking without our children. I felt nothing but love for him, and grateful that he was so understanding and trusted me as much as he did. Our relationship had changed, but it was all for the better. We were now bound together in life and no matter what else was to come we would be stronger than the average couple because of the healing we would eventually help each other through. That healing would take years, with some twists and turns from time to time that neither of us would see coming. This story still has more, but I want your eyes to recover from all that you have ingested so far.

More to come, so keep reading as this love story continues....

Part III  ......  One is Loud, One is Quiet

My Man Made The Difference

Today is a great day. It always is.

I do not write much about Bruce, but I should. He is a very private person and he believes in me 100%, supports me, knows why I am so passionate about what I do, loves me no matter the mood and always, always makes me feel like a woman. He is a big reason I am the person that I am, the go-getter, ambitious, do what I think is right mom who takes on far too many volunteer duties for her own good. He has been the very best friend that I have ever had, and I am honored to carry his name, to call him my husband. Our story is our story, and I have been asked many times why I do not write more about him, about us. The reason is because as I said, he is a very private person and he reserves the right to keep his private thoughts private. I am the talker in the relationship, and Lord help ya if I've had some Scotch then you will be entertained with the details of my hemorrhoid banding! Know what my nickname is around the house? OE, as in Over Explainer. Bruce takes pleasure in asking me a question that I will get all technical about just to laugh at my babbling...and laughing in a fun way I might add.

So I do like to follow his wishes, because after all he is not the writer in the family, I am. And our perceptions about the adoptions are quite similar and at the same time completely different. He does not have an opinion on being a birth father and I have never heard those words come from his mouth, ever. HE does not see himself as a birth father, but rather a father. Bruce and I are soul mates. There has never been two people who were meant to be together more than the two of us. We have so much in common, and have had such parralles in our lives we really think very much alike in many different areas. He had always been a good friend so he went through the pregnancy with me when I had Bella. He saw the difficulties, the loneliness, the excitement of carrrying a child and the pride I had knowing that my choice for her was the right one for us both. He helped me through it and had knowledge of what was to come.

Backtrack: He was raised primarily by his mother with a big influence from his grandfather. He was a wild one, not really a trouble maker but rather an inquisitive young man with a shining for skateboards, mosh pits, Van shoes and the occasional need to challenge authority. He was a fun guy and his imagination was on the wild side. He also was charming. There are not too many people who meet Bruce who do not like him. He has always been loyal to anyone he cares about. He asks for honesty as a good policy. He is a hard worker who goes out every day to do what he can to help his company and provide for his family. He was raised well and has always been in touch with the ladies. (Seriously, he is unbelievably good about picking jewelry and clothes, I am on VERY lucky woman!)

I find him amazing. I knew him way back when, the days he was flying down hills with no helmet on a thin piece of wood with wheels, when he was a freshman and I was a Junior, when he was just a passing friend and someone whom I would always laugh with. Not until after I had been to college did I begin to spend more time with him. What brought us closer together? Hockey. We both loved hockey, and especially the St. Louis Blues. He began to spend more time at my apartment, hanging with a varied collections of friends that slowly but surely started to put two and two together that perhaps there was something else between the two of us. We would have friends over at at the end of the night, as everyone filed out, Bruce was always staying behind because I could not drive him home and he was not taking rides from others. He was a gentleman, slept on the top of the covers as I slept underneath them ... no contact at all, I swear! But it all started to add up. The time together. The long laughs late into the night just chatting about everything. The wrestling matches...now when those started I knew where it was going. You know, you're young, you're are hanging with a friend, you start to wrestle ... everyone does it. Don't they?

It was that summer that I fell so very hard, so very fast, and so lustfully for him because of the fact that I KNEW him. Had for a very long time, 5 years at that point. He made me laugh harder than any other human being ever has, he was very handsome in a way I had not seen before, he was oh so smooth and sweet about the hunt. He began to make me wonder what that white picket fence looked like. I would wake up thinking about him, then go to sleep talking to him on the phone. It was a secretive courtship because we had so many of the same friends and if it did not work out well we did not want things to be awkward. We touched each other differently, he was driving my car, nothing said by either of us...well at least me...but it was obvious that when we were together we had a gigantic chemistry aura oozing from our pores. We were both realizing that things might just work out between us, that we would finally be able to protest our love for each other. IT was exciting and fun and sneaky and romantic and story like....uh, just what every girl dreams of.

July 28, 1991 was the day. It is my very favorite anniversary, every year. I know when it is coming and in the past Bruce had it great because all the big love days were multiples of 7: my birthday is the 7th, Valentine's Day is the 14th and our anniversary was the 28th. (I messed things up by getting married on the 16th, but I told him that if you add the two it makes 7 so it still counts!) It has been 19 years of love, acceptance, supporting, compromising, laughing, romancing, and listening to each others hearts. He is my man, he is my soul, he is my knight in shining armor who would be wearing some kind of leather somewhere with a goat-tee entertaining the warriors with hilarious stories. He still makes me weak at the knees and I am giddy when he comes home at the end of the day. He is my life support and the greatest fan of our lifes. He lives life to the fullest and makes the best of it as he can, and it is one of my favorite qualities about him. Hell, there's not too much I don't like about him!

To tell you the truth, the best thing we ever did for ourselves was move West. Our lives were in St. Loius, all our friends and immediate family, it was all there. When we came to California we had an intese year of growing up and coming to terms with all that had happened in our lives since falling in love. We talked a lot and relied heavily on each other for comfort, companionship, support and encouragement. We did not have to tell new people that we met and made friends with about the adoptions because it just never really came up in conversation. It was freeing not to have to always talk about our children with others, so the healing was very private, very intimate between just Bruce and I.
We have never thought about giving up on each other. Not once. We have had arguments in our time together but never has there been an argument about the adoptions. We speak of it from time to time, but it is not a focus of our lives. We have two amazingly hilarious and giving boys that we are raising and we kind of look at it as a circle of life thing that the Man Upstairs has blessed our lives with. We believe in each other so much and have learned so much about love with ALL of our children.

I love you Mr. Stewart. Happy Anniversary.

PS ... Got Any Fruit? ... the long, strange journey to California

April 19, 1995. The Oklahoma City Bombing shocked the world that morning with this news. It was the first of it's kind in our country, something we were not ready for. In the following weeks the nation learned that this horrific act of terrorism was looking to be homegrown, as in the persons responsible were Americans living in the United States. It was unfathomable that this hatred would exist in our own borders. It shook America awake, and a full fledged investigation was in progress, and Americans wanted answers. Bruce and I were traveling across the country to start our lives in California and we were on our second day of the journey. We woke up in Oklahoma City and went to eat breakfast. After eating, we hit the road as early as possible, we had many miles to travel. About an hour into the drive, we saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road, we had no where to put him and we were on a schedule so we passed him by. Within a mile of seeing him, we passed a gigantic sign on the side of the highway that said... "Do not pick up hitchhikers, they may be escaped convicts." Good to know. We looked at each other and thought it odd that there was a sign like that on the road, but figured they knew what they were talking about. It was really a sign that this was going to be a very strange trip this move of ours. We were in good spirits, talking, laughing listening to our favorite music and looking at the landscape as we finished with Oklahoma and entered Texas.


We only had to drive a short distance in Texas, pretty much a straight shot across the top of the State with the only large town near being Amarillo. We made sure that we drove the exact speed limit because there were signs all along the freeway that said..."Don't Mess With Texas". Again, good to know. Bruce was trying to get to Albuquerque to stop for the night and we were almost there. We finally made it early evening and found a motel to stop for the night. Everyone we came into contact with were acting just a bit off. People were not talking or smiling, everyone was very reserved and not chit chatting like you would normally see. We again found it odd, but figured that it was just a new city, new people. We had stopped before getting to the motel to eat, so we were determined to just get in the room and get some sleep. I called my mother and told her we were safe and she had asked me if I was watching the news on Oklahoma City. I hold her that the mood there was weird and Bruce and I just wanted to get going as fast as possible. She told me to watch the late news because there were all kinds of developments going on. I told her I would, and then bid her good night. I turned on the TV and the rest was a good nights sleep. Too tired. The following morning we were just one day away from our scheduled arrival in our new apartment. We were excited, we were talking non stop about everything, we were just so happy to be half way there. Bruce asked me to drive the first half of the trip. I told him I would rather take the second half because I saw what the elevation of Flagstaff was and I did not think I would be good driving the Uhaul from pre-Atomic Bomb era up that giant mountain with all the wind. He said that he really just wanted to relax and said I would do fine. Mid afternoon Flagstaff was in sight and I again asked him to please drive up to Flagstaff, I really was nervous once I saw the grade. He told me to stop being silly and just drive. I argued, trying to tell him that I was not confident that I could get up there safely. He laughed. It got closer, I got more nervous. Two lanes going straight up a HUGE grade, One last time I asked. He said "You'll be fine, stop worrying." Half way up the grade he was yelling at me to go faster, I was only doing about 40mph and everyone was passing us honking. I told him that if I were to shift I would kill the truck...the torque on that ignorant box on the back of the truck was weighing too heavily on the transmission. I felt it under my feet, he was just too agro to hear me. There was a semi that blew past us blaring his horn and Bruce was ready to blow up himself. I tried, I tried hard to get that truck up the grade but the more I tried, the more we slowed down. Bruce was trying to tell me what to do, I was watching the rear view mirror making sure we were not going to be rear ended by another semi, horns honking, people flipping us off. It was horrible, I knew that I would never, ever live it down! And I knew that my mother was going to hear his side first so they could bond over another Kelsey moment. We started to come to the summit and all he could say was, "Pull the truck over. Pull the truck over. Right here is fine, just pull in and stop the truck." Once I came to a complete stop he jumped out of the cab. I just sat there breathing, thanking the Lord that we were not smashed to smithereens by another truck. I never got the keys for the remainder of the trip, Bruce proceeded to escort me the rest of the way.


It was quiet after Flagstaff. We wanted to get to Kingman, Arizona for the night. It was a busy city near the border of California off the 40. We only needed to drive about another half a day before we would be in our new town. We had left the driving debacle behind us and again were jubilant that we were so close to our new life. We found a Comfort Inn near the highway off ramp and quickly pulled in to get a room. There were cars all over the place, and most of them were black sedans with suits inside. We went in the front door and approached the desk only to see quite a few more suit men inside talking on walkie talkies. It was a strange mood and the check in girl was very short with us, constantly looking up at the suit men. We kept quiet and she gave us directions to where we could park with the Uhaul. We went back out to the truck and there were so many cars around. We went to our room, put our toiletries in there along with a change of clothes and we set out to get something to eat. We decided to walk and once we got to where we were going, we just wanted to get our food and go back to the hotel. It was almost eerie there, people were all looking at each other, cars were driving very slowly, more and more sedans showed up. We thought it really freaky by this point and we wanted to just get somewhere out of public. Once we were safe in our room and set up to eat dinner, we turned on the nightly news. It all made sense within about two minutes. Tom Browkaw was reporting that there "was a confirmed link to Kingman, Arizona and the Oklahoma City Bombing. The Uhaul that was rented was in fact rented in Kingman and then driven along the 40 HWY to Oklahoma City. There were numerous FBI, FTA, and State police in Kingman and they..." WOW! No wonder it was so weird out there. It was a weird that we could not shake, and we were feeling very venerable there. Especially with a Uhaul! We watched the coverage, set the alarm for 4:30 am and said goodnight so we could get out of there as soon as possible.

It was pitch black when we pulled back onto HWY 40. The mood was even darker. We did not stop anywhere. We did not talk. We just moved along, minding our own business. Day broke as we were heading into California. We crossed the state line going up a gradual grade that went a long way into the distance. The sun was not up yet but the morning began to show some life. We were now at the top of the grade and below us were all kinds of rolling hills, some higher than others so the light was different on all of them. It was stunning. It reminded me of a bowl full of pastel marshmallows with a path through the middle of it. I could not take my eyes off of it. Even Bruce was left with no words, just taking in the spectacular morning, the morning he would see his new home. The sun slowly began to peek around the bends and it became an even more beautiful sight. We had made it, we were finally in The Golden State. About 20 minutes later we could see cars lined up at a check point, but we did not know what the check point was for. We were a little nervous because we had beer in the cooler from the night before and since we did not know the laws of California we thought for sure we were going to get into some big trouble. We sat in the long line waiting to find out our fate. As we inched closer, we saw the check point worker looking through some cars. Oh no, we were busted for sure! We were one car away. Bruce asked if the cooler was exposed. I said it was. We had no time to cover it because the car in front of us pulled away leaving us to be the next to pass. We pulled up slowly, hearts pounding, sweat dripping down our arms. Bruce rolled down his window.


"Hello folks, how are you today?" the guard asked with a smile.


"We are very good. And you?" Bruce tried to make small talk.


"I am great, thank you for asking. What brings you to California?" he asked.


"We are moving here from Missouri, sir." Bruce answered with a smile.


"Missouri? Wow, that's a drive. How was it?" He said looking at the crap Uhaul we were pulling. "I would bet it wasn't easy pulling that thing behind ya..." he giggled.


"You can say that again. It was not the one that I chose, but it had to do."


"You guys like cheese?" Bruce and I looked at each other like...'DId he just ask us if we liked cheese? What kind of weird ass state is this? You stop people to ask if they like cheese?'


"Uh, yes we do."


"Well, don't get your hope us too high. This state claims that we have good cheese but if you ask me I like the stuff that comes from Wisconsin better. More flavorful, you know?" Okay, this was all getting a bit odd. "Do you have any fruit?" he asked. Fruit? What? Weren't we just talking about cheese? Is this guy ADD or what?


"No sir, no fruit." Bruce said wanting to just get out of there.


"Okay, well then you have a nice day and welcome to California."


"You too, thank you." We drove through the check point a little baffled. Fruit? NO we don't have fruit but we have alcohol in the cooler. Very strange to us, we were not aware that you could not bring fruit into the State of California. Yet again we found ourselves saying..."Good to know". Those fruit flies can really destroy the crops of produce that is abundant in that state, this is what we were told by some friends later. They all laughed to hear how nervous we were to drive through the check point not knowing it was only about fruit.


At around 1:00 pm we pulled up the driveway to our apartment. Bruce was anxious to see it and I was excited to show him. I opened the door and he stepped in. He then went to the sliding glass door to take a look at our view. He was impressed and immediately wanted to unpack everything so we could get organized then return the Uhaul. We spent the day putting things away, organizing dishes, making lists of food and condiments that we needed, figuring out how to arrange the furniture and finally, we put together the things needed in the bathroom. We returned the Uhaul and then went out to eat since we did not yet have a dining room table. It was the best meal I had ever had. I think it was because there was months of nerves calmed just knowing he was really there with me, and not just for a visit. He was there with me to stay. We went back to our apartment and watched the sunset in beautiful oranges that faded to pinks that faded to purples and then finally to blackness. The stars were out and we could smell the ocean air. We stood on our patio hugging each other, satisfied to finally be together with big dreams in our heads. We were finally out on our own, and it felt great!!!!


Yeah, this one had not much to do with my mother, but the story was a good one and I am just trying to buy time to find the right words to carry on her story. Next post...life in California, how we adjusted and like I said, Bruce asks Sande permission to marry her daughter. We are getting close to the final chapters and I hope you have enjoyed the journey so far.

Dear Anderson Cooper....Haiti is not the only country with adoption issues

Dear Anderson Cooper,
I watch you as often as I can because I appreciate the humanity that you have while reporting, not to mention the hard hitting issues that you so eloquiently expose. I have been intrigued with your reporting in Haiti, the face of devistation that your program has shown has been outstanding reporting, but heartbreaking to watch. Thank you for all you are doing there and all the light that you have shown on many ongoing issues. I am writing about one particular subject, one that is a hot topic, but I am not writing for reasons others are voicing their opinions about.

Your coverage of the missionaries that have been arrested and accused of trying to take children out of the country illegally has been intriguing to say the least, and eye opening at it's best. Last week you returned to the US, but one night spent 23 minutes on the "adoptions gone wrong" in Haiti, the next night 15 minutes on the background of the ringleader, and another night an indepth look into international adoption. I want to know when you are going to give that much time on your program to do an indepth story about adoption domesticaly? Why are you not looking into the illegal practices in our system? The onslaught of coercion that women have endured and continue to endure? Why are there unpleasant attitudes regarding the adoption process, especially the birth parents, that happen right here at home? Domestic adoptions are for many, a nightmare. I have a real problem that you have given this much time on your program for this very controversial subject in Haiti, and not do a follow up here in the States to uncover what so few people know: adoption needs to be reformed, now.

I placed three children nearly 20 years ago in two different adoptions. I did not have a good experience with my first in Missouri. My second was better because of the liberal laws in California, but still not an easy road at all. I have since found a nation of women who have so many different stories about adoption. All are unique, all are heartbreaking, some have good endings and some are still fighting the demons that were put upon them so long ago. You see, adoption for the first mother is not the walk in the park that people think it should be. Don't get me wrong, some folks can understand the loss that we go through. But the majority might be shocked to know that it is a lifelong, ever evolving journey that can change lives on any given day. There are generations of women who were forced to give their children away against their will. There are generations of women who were sent away from eveything they knew because they were pregnant, and they too were coerced into giving up their children. There are generations of women who chose to place their children for adoption, but shamed by a society that thinks they are evil for not raising their own children. There are generations of women who chose to place their children but were treated so badly by the system, they were bullied into keeping their children and made to feel selfish for wanting to do what they thought was best for their children. There are also generations of women, myself included, that have made the choice, healed their hearts, have a happy outlook and now advocate for the positives of open adoption, a side we see too little of. So many stories, so many differnt outcomes, so many human rights violations.


I would like to invite you to contact me and I will direct you to the proper places where you can read for yourself the stories that I speak of. I will show you that there are those who are fighting to change the system because of the horrors that they went through. I will show you those who are still heartbroken and have a negative outlook, but are doing their best to show others how to avoid what they were subjected to. I will show you those who have healed and have positive outlooks to adoption, but not without a price. I will show you that here, in our own country, adoption is so overpowered by rules, laws, politicians, state social workers, money and thoughtless aftercare it will turn your stomach. I will make you think about the reasons there is so much pain, sometimes shame, and always a reminder that somewhere, someone thinks we are horrible women. And that is not the end of it. The real problem in this country is that no matter what the circumstances are in the adoption, the aftercare for the mothers is, most of the time, non existant  and when it is avaialable, it is a joke.

One of the main problems with adoption, whether it be a choice or a coercion, is there is not nearly enough support for the mothers after placement. Many, I again include myself, were promised aftercare but never received it. Many women were told to never talk about it. Many were told that they had to just get over it and move on. Many women were reliant on the support of their loved ones and friends to help heal the pain. I would bet that almost every woman that enters into adoption is promised that they will get the proper care and counseling that they will need to begin the process of healing. It is an absolute lie. Those adoption agencies, lawyers and social workers need to move on to the next case, the next victim. It is truly one of the best kept secrets out there in this country and there are so many women that have found their voice, found the courage to speak out and make a change. These are the voices that I would like to introduce you to, show you that if you gave US that much time on your program we could all help to make a change right here at home. These are the voices that are brave enough to show you their heart if it will help someone else make the right decision. These are the voices that should be the face of adoption, trying to make changes that can help future genrerations of women. These are the stories that you should be reporting on, if you want to cover adoption domesticaly as much as you have internationally.

I thank you for your time and encourage your comments,
Sincerely,
Kelsey Stewart
Author, The Best For You

750K Teenage Pregnancies in 2006. Did I Read That Right???!!!

As I was flipping through the channels tonight I came across a show that had several "experts" talking about teenage abstenance and how the kids today need to be taught to just withold from sex until they were married. I was intrigued, as I always am with the subject of teenage pregnancy because I was one of those statistics way back when, so I started to watch the program. As I was watching I read a blurb on the screen that said 750K TEENAGE PREGNANCIES IN 2006. Wow! That is a lot of pregnancies. I mean, a lot of pregnancies. Sure, some will argue that when you figure in the population and blah blah blah. Then they put up the blurb that President Obama is pouring 100 million into programs to promote abstinence. That's good, right? There needs to be that much money put into a program that will no doubt be whiped from our children's minds as soon as they pick up a magazine, watch a television program or turn on the computer. 100 million dollars to teach kids to say no to sex. What a waste of money.

I think a much better idea is to hire someone who has the balls to stand up to the FCC about the crap that is on television, and let's not forget about the radio, and regulate what shows are scheduled at what times. I remember during the holidays that I saw "Knocked Up" on some cable station at 1:00 in the afternoon on a Saturday. Really? Can we wait until after 9 or 10 to put that on? VH1, which used to be one of my favortie channels because of all the hilarious retro shows that used to be on (Anyone love I LOVE the 70's as much as me?) is now riddled with shows about superficial people using their sexuality and lack of self respect to get their fifteen minutes of fame. MTV has Teen Mom which I see the point to, but the situations on that show (with the exception of Caitlyn) are horrible examples for teenagers to be watching these days. Find a video on and you will think it is soft core porn. Pick up a magazine and you will see more skin on the pages than interview. Even worse, I found a dirt bike video on the computer the other day, you know the ones that are kiddie and cute? After it loaded and I set him up with his game, I scrolled down to bring the whole picture into view and right there at the bottom of that page was this busty brunette asking if my 6 year old wanted to play. Are you kidding me? What in the world  happened to values? What happened to the morals of the government that runs our country? Why is everyone so afraid to stand up and remind people that this programing, print and media is so influential on our kids today?

Look at that number in the begining of this post. 750K girls were pregnant in 2006. I am sure that the number has gone up in the last 3 years and I want to know what was done to counsel those 750K girls back in 2006. Obviously the NO SEX campaign did not work then and I don't think it will make a huge dent now. Oh...did I mention that Former President George W Bush doubled the amount of money thrown at this abstinence campaign while he was in office? These statistics were form his tenure in office, so I think I can make the statement that President Obama is going to waste our money. I have an alternative place that the 100 million can go. First, put it towards eductaion and get Health Classes back in our schools. These kids need to know how their bodies work, especially in the teen years. The rest of that money can go to the after care of birth mothers to ensure that they have a good start to life after loosing a child. Sounds crazy huh? But it seems to me that money spent on helping those that can help make families, that just might be money well spent. Our society always focuses on the negatives of adoption, how it affects everyone in a negative way. Well, that is not true. There are a number of women who have somehow, by the grace of God and their own inner strength, been able to heal and live life happily as a birth mother. Good for us. But there are also SO MANY out there who are not having a good time adjusting, are not able to heal from their pain, and cannot see a feisable way to live life happily knowing their child is out there without them. It is a bigger problem than you think. When you hear of a parent that has lost a child, you know that they are in for a long road of sadness and pain. Birth parents loose their children as well, but no one thinks of it that way. Birth parents loose a part of themselves but are expected to just move on, just forget about it and the feeling will go away. We are often hit with the old "you made your bed, now you lie in it" mentality and this is why you do not see the proper support for these parents after the birth.

There are rehab centers for alcoholics to recover and learn to be sober. There are rehab centers for drug addicts to kick their adictions. There are rehabs for gambling, sex addiction, food addiction. These are all things that we accept that people need life long help with, no lack of centers for these problems. Why are there not more centers or rehabs for birth mothers? Although we relinquish our rights to our children, we cannot relinquish the right to love and be forever curious about them. Being a birth parent is a life long process and if we want the system to change we need to start helping those that are brave enough to make it all happen. Because when you think about it, there is no adoption without the birth parents. So let's start supporting them more and see what happens. I think it is worth a shot.