Until I Am Strong Enough To Carry On

When I was in my late twenties I sustained a work injury that really messed my back up to point that I limped for several years, endured physical therapy, was sent to learn a new trade because I would no longer be able to perform my old job .... Blah, blah, blah,

Long story short, eventually my back healed but from time to time I would move the wrong way or hike too long and just like that, it was back. That same nagging pain. I could mask it with medicine, but nothing helped more than stretching, walking and working out the pain until I was strong enough to carry on.

I feel the same way about adoption. Having been through it for the last 20+ years as a mother, I will admit that, no ... It has not been easy. I sustained an injury to my heart. That is a wound that of course is deep, but to add to it the fact that it was self inflicted made it much harder for me to wrap my head around. I had a really rough go in the beginning, totally devastated and could feel my heart hardening. Then time and love from friends and family helped heal, helped remind me that I am who I am. (If that makes sense).

And one day, I would hear something ... See something ... Smell something that would cut again, just as if I twisted my spine the wrong way, and I would have to go back to square one. However, after some years I learned that each time there was something new to be learned. Perhaps I cry at my son's ceremonies because I am reminded of all I missed with my adopted children? Perhaps my funk during spring is because orange blossoms remind me of the walks I would take while pregnant?

When that happens, when I make the connection, I try to revisit the scene if possible ... face it, take a deep breath and turn that memory back into a smile. Make it do what it used to do, before the loss. I do not do this because I want to forget the loss, that will never happen. Rather I am trying to replace the loss with the beautiful moments I experienced. The moments I want to keep with me, sacred, only important to me for my own reasons. And as with the back injury, I stretch my mind ... walk the memories and work through the pain until I am strong enough to carry on.

The Bridges We Cross

Question asked: Our birth mother does not want to spend time with us. I would like to see her, spend time with her and her child because they are siblings, but she seems to have lost interest in us. I do not know what to think or what to do, I really need to know if there is something I should be doing to help this situation. She was rather depressed after the birth of our baby and I fear that she wants nothing to do with us. What should I do?

Normally, I do not post such heartfelt questions, but this one I felt needed to be posted because there are things that people do not understand when it comes to live after placement for a mother. (That and I have been asked this same kind of question before.) Here is my experience.....and I STRESS that I do not speak for all birth mothers out there. This is my mind, my thoughts.

I will speak as a birth mother, and I will tell you what I think...I am not giving advice because there really is no set advice in adoption. There can't be, so know that first and for most. Here is what I know about life after placement...


I too was very depressed after my daughter's placement. It was a complete psychological, Freudian, Catholicism, society and self pressure melt down. I did not think I made a mistake, I knew that I did the right thing. That was not the problem. I had spent months trying to prepare myself for the fall that would happen after birth and what happened is not at all describable, or is it expected to be the same for every mother out there. I loved that baby, I truly loved her and I also loved her family...but it was still hard for me not to be constantly wondering what was going on in her life. What was she doing? What did she look like? Will she ever know how very difficult it was for me to let go? Can she forgive me for doing so? It was so very draining and I just wanted to pull myself up and go on, get back to life because no matter how I felt, that is what I chose for her, and  for myself.

I received letters and pictures and that helped, but at the same time it killed me to see how much she looked like me! How she sat like me! How she smiled so big, it light up the picture and I was sure there were so many there that were close to her and were also in love with her. But it hurt. Those letters were sometimes the beginning of months of grief and guilt that would set me back in the healing. I almost wanted to just not look at them and separate myself from her, to not be THE MOM who walked away. My heart physically hurt, sometimes it was hard to breath if I thought about it too much. And it really was no one's fault, I mean I knew it would be heartbreaking and an amputation of my soul. I read the stories, I knew a couple of birth mothers from generations before me who suffered immense guilt and wondering that never really went away. I asked my doctor for the brochures and literature that would help me understand the mental repercussions, the depression that you mention. It takes a toll and has to be learned to be handled at different levels through life, again and again.

Then I had another adoption, twins, that was completely different in every way. The circumstances, the mental state that I was in after my daughter, the relationship that I was in, and my relationship with God. The last is a fact and I know that I get dinged on from time to time, but I stand by what I say: I asked Him what it was that I was supposed to do? I got pregnant while using birth control and I am sure there is a reason why you would ask me to do this again, but what is it? He lead me to it, and by it I mean adoption. He gave me the parents that would be all that they needed to be in order to help an open adoption work, the background that I had in disappointment and heartache, the guidance of a mother who was nothing short of a one woman support system with such heart, such understanding, and such wonderful listening skills she would have given Freud a run for his money! I was just waiting for the light that would lift the veil of constant thinking, constant sadness, all the time feeling low, guilted, ashamed that it happened to me.

When I had my son Bodde, I changed so much. It was a monumental thing for me as a mother because it taught me to really appreciate children. I let it all go and just wanted to focus on what was in front of me, not what had happened in the past. I had very good years once my adopted children were older and I could send them cards and letters. It was a wonderful release for me to tell them how much I thought of them, how I was thinking of them on special days, how I was moving on with life and making one of my own, all the while I was doing so in the presence of knowing they may not want to know me. That would be my worst nightmare, that they did not want to know me or hear the reasons or understand what it took for me to just walk life without my heart, without my children. Bodde changed all of that, he taught me to live life now. To embrace the moments that are with you, not away from you. I learned that I cannot change the past and even if I could, would I want to tempt fate like that?

Perhaps this may be how your birth mother is feeling, maybe she is just trying to move on a little further down the path. l think she is just really enjoying her life now, may perhaps have a few feelings or thoughts that she needs to work through, and she will come around in person when she is ready to. I say relax and let her come to you. It may be a while, it could be next week. Just as much as you are afraid that there is something wrong with her, she is just as scared that you may think that she is freaking out or something. I would not read that much into it, everyone heals differently. It sounds like you really care for her, and she knows that in your contact with her. That is FANTASTIC!!!!! What ever you do, don't ever stop the communication. It is important to make sure you stay open and understand that it is so difficult to cut yourself off, physically, with your child the way she has. It is nothing to worry about, we all just need different ways to deal with the lifetime of change that comes with being a birth mother.

My healing did not happen over night, it did not happen in 5 years, and it will never end, that healing. It is life and anything can happen on a dime. I was just fortunate enough to have it all be worth it in the end. All the time of confusion, reminiscing, wondering, sobbing, low self esteem, the time just thinking about it all. It was worth it because I now know myself as well as my children, and I could not ask for anything more. Life did move on, and it moved on in a way that could not have been planned. Well, it was planned...but not by me.

Happy Thoughts 8 ~ Polaroid Smile

As my daughter grew, I always sent her a gift on her birthday. The first couple of years it was a balloon bouquet. The bouquet changed once she became a girl and around her 5th birthday I sent roses, one for every year. She loved it, someone sending her flowers, and she knew that it was her mother, her birth mother. I continued on with the tradition every year and each time I would get a letter telling me how much she liked them and told everyone that the were from Kelsey. She knew I was thinking about her. She knew that I had never forgotten the day she was born and I was sending these as a token of the love that I still had for her beauty, her life and her amazing little soul. I still do it to this day, only now the vase is getting larger to hold all the beautiful roses.

The hardest year for me was when she turned 10. It was a milestone for me. She was a decade old. It had been ten years since we were one and it just did not seem possible that I had a 10 year old daughter. Don't get me wrong, it was wonderful that I did, but it just hit me really hard. I had my own child at that point, had been married for a few years and our lives were both very happy, very fulfilled. But I just could not shake the sadness of the years I had lost, all the years that I had not seen her grow. It was the sports the most. I was a good athlete when I was in school and she was as well. I would have loved to have seen her play a game. She played two sports, one of which I also played all my life ... softball. I bet she had quick hands, and gave it her all going for a ball. I bet when she batted she lifted her front foot slightly and inward in order to adjust to the inside, or outside pitch. I bet when she ran she slid around the outside of the plate to avoid a tag. I would have really enjoyed seeing her on the field, in the batters box, perhaps behind the plate like her mother? So these were the kind of thoughts that I had and made me begin to doubt myself only in that perhaps she wasn't seeing it the way I did. That the flowers were just some cordial delivery that were for show.

So I made arrangements to pick the flowers and send the card. That is another thing I do, I make sure that I send a card that I chose with a personal message from me that is delivered with the bouquet. I really believe in being personal, writing what you feel and making sure that the words get to who it needs to go to and in this case, it was my daughter on her 10th birthday. So I chose all pink with beautiful fill and a pink ribbon on a beautiful vase. I liked it, and I was filled with that familiar feeling of accomplishment. It wasn't easy keeping the tradition that year, but I did it. I knew it would make me feel better just knowing it was on it's way to her, would be there the day she woke up and it was something she liked to receive. I was busy with my life and what with a toddler, well there is no rest until they are out of energy! I filled my days with laughter from my boy and on her actual birthday I took him to a park, baked a cake and played with playdoh for a few hours until I fell asleep, with him snuggled up next to me in his bed.


Two weeks after her birthday, I got a letter in the mail. I did not recognize the handwriting, but I did recognize the address. It was Bella! I opened it immediately and pulled out a purple piece of paper and a Polaroid picture. I stared at the picture. It was her, sitting in a chair with the roses, in her arms, resting on the table. Her smile just has wattage, I mean it jumped right out of the picture at me. She was wearing a pink shirt and jeans. There was a headband in her hair. She had pretty earrings. I looked at it for a while, not crying or upset or anything. I just looked at it. She looked so happy, she looked so proud. I opened the paper and it was, for the first time, a letter in her handwriting. This simple piece of paper brought immediate tears and filled my heart with the most amazing love. It was the first time she had ever done this, my contact with her had always been through her parents. It worked out that way for a long time, and I guess this time she wanted to write the letter. It was a giant step for her parents I am sure, to show the acceptance to her though that one small, simple act. I am so very thankful for those parents that I have, they were always in my corner and let me take the lead when it came to keeping in touch through the years.

Her letter said that she was so excited when she got the flowers. She looked forward to them every year, and this year they were so beautiful. She said that they made her feel special because she knew that I was thinking of her. She then said thank you and told me that she would like to see me sometime. Love, Bella.

Simple letter, not much said. But it spoke volumes that she accepted me and was going to love me in her life. It was the single most beautiful letter I have ever received. Thanks Bella, for everything.

An Open Letter To Birth Mothers

This road we have been on as mothers removed, as I often say, is one ever evolving journey deep into the heart that no other soul could EVER understand unless they themselves have been there. It can send you for quite some time, years perhaps, just going along thinking things are going well. You feel content, proud, peaceful in your decision and all of the sudden, out of the blue one little thing can grab a hold of all you know and pull it from the sky, crashing down on you like one huge bucket of slime that falls all at once, but leaves an icky feeling for months. It is horrible. It is degrading. It is a disruption of life that we do not have the energy for, nor the time for because for us...time has moved on. For some, we have our own children to raise, our own little souls that help us to realize just how much we gave up. We are constantly living on a double edged sword of seeing everything for the first time and at the same time seeing how much we truly missed, what we will someday have to answer to and what will always be with us no matter how long we walk this Earth. No one can understand it and that is why I think there is so much anger, hatred, disappointment and just general disgust in the adoption world. Every one expects us to be this beacon of light that will be able to answer all the questions that everyone has. Everyone expects the birth mother (and I am sorry if I offend you by using those words to describe us, but why should we change who we are for all those that feel the name is hurtful...to them? That is a whole other thought all together that I will elaborate on later in a different post. I have been feeling the need to defend all of us who are constantly forced to change our names, our views, our truths to convenience someone else. I want to shout out to those that tell me not to use birth mother..."I am fine with who I am and I will not change for you or any others out there, thank you very much!" Sorry about that, I went off for a minute ;) ) anyway, everyone expects us to be there punching bag and we are just not designed for that.

And all those counselors and so called helpers out there just cannot fathom living in a frame of mind that at any given moment, life can change dramatically for not just us, but everyone around us. That is what most people do not get. When I am reminded about something adoption, it creeps in sometimes and will affect my relationships. There is a distance that occurs, it is slight and most do not notice, but I do. I know that my mind is not here 100%, that I am preoccupied thinking of a solution, yet again!, to help my heart heal and understand the reason for the pain. I know that I am trying my best to be the woman that I want to be, but how can I when they are constantly trying to beat me down, make me feel guilty all over again for something that I have left behind? And not left behind in a bad way, left behind because I had already beaten it with a stick, beaten myself relentlessly for so many years that my mind told my heart to heal or be crushed. We all have to realize our strengths in this journey because it is those strengths that will eventually get us through all the hate and heartache.

I want to give you hope. Let you know that if you find that strength that is in you, stick with what you know in your heart is right, then you can move mountains! You can be that beacon of light for your child. You can keep with you the very thought that maybe, just maybe they want to know you. They may be thinking just as much about you as you are of them and someday they will be free to come and hug you, thank you, be with you to show you they really do know how much you care about and love them. There is hope. SO don't let anyone tell you any different. You may be a mother of loss, but you are not a mother of defeat. And when that agency, or reader, or ignorant person tells you that you are a whore or you should feel bad about what you chose for your baby, well you just keep in mind that they may be jealous of your strength. You don't need them to tell you this, or make you feel inferior because you were able to do something they could NEVER do! (and when you think about it that is what this all boils down to, I think people are just jealous of how very strong we are, how they could never do what we did and they only wish they could believe in themselves as much as we do!) Most of all, I want you to know that you are not alone. There are many of us out here who have been right where you are, and we know the uncertainty of life at an early age, we know how to handle ourselves, and we will not be told how to feel.

*If you are an agency, please do not take offense to this post. I am not saying that all agencies treat birth mothers with disrespect. All I am saying is that you may be surprised to see just how many do have this line of thinking. Again, not all agencies, counselors and helpers are this way.

One Song For My Children

There is one song that when I hear it, I think that it was made for me. Music can take you back to so many places in your mind, and this one just puts me back in the hospital when I spent those days holding those beautiful babies. The lyrics, the music...it all comes together to explain, as songs often do, what I felt in my heart all those years ago. May it bring you a smile, and may my children remember it just like I do everytime they hear it. With so much love to all three of you....Kelsey

Iris, Goo Goo Dolls