tres

this weekend marked the three year anniversary of the last time i saw the Kiddo.

three years.

its been three years since i've received pictures or an update.

three years.

i'm getting the itch to call her, my son's mother. not that i have anything planned to say. while i know what i'd like to tell her, it would only dig me in a deeper hole. one would think that a formerly-open-adoption-now-closed would be the bottom of the hole, but it doesn't appear to be so.

because how difficult is it, in this day of all things digital, to send an email with a couple of pictures? i don't want to hear how busy she is, how it has slipped her mind...for years. it's personal. i'm unable to see it any other way.

if she was so furious with me, so full of animosity, i would have preferred to have dealt with it and gotten on with our agreement. she doesn't have to like me, i understand that now. i'm not exactly a big fan of hers either. Betty and Barney are doing a wonderful job raising the Kiddo; that's my concern here.

she broke me during the last visit. in the conversation that transpired, i hit the emotional wall, shattering, and begging her "you have my son, what else do you want from me"? when i reflect now on that day, i am so embarrassed for allowing her to slice me to ribbons. for providing her the fodder to extract my insecurities and poke my unease with poison tipped spears.

i suppose it had been a long time coming. we were never on a level playing field. hell, apparently we were not even playing the same game. the rulebook was tossed years ago, and there's nobody to officiate. clearly, we cannot be trusted to play together nicely.

motherhood interrupted

one of the things i spoke at length about with Samantha was the first few months post-placement. i've written about this before, in an earlier version of this blog, some 4 years or so ago.

you try fighting nature. and most of us birth/first mothers do, during pregnancy and after. i think its one of the greatest unspoken battles that we face. many of us try to outwit it by logic and pragmatic reasoning. maybe some of us do beat Mama Nature, but i suspect she wins in the end.

"i considered the baby already belonging to the soon-to-be adoptive couple"

"i didn't want to see the baby, because i was afraid i might change my mind"

"when the baby started to cry i gave him/her to the nurse because i couldn't be the one to comfort him/her"

"i didn't name him/her because..."

and so on and so forth. i read these snippets all the time here in the blogosphere. and i've uttered many of them myself when pregnant with the Kiddo and shortly thereafter. because i was going to out-think all of this grief. because i was smart. you can see how far THAT got me.

the fact remains that our bodies anticipate this new life. we're set to nurture, to feed, to comfort. i considered the Kiddo already "belonging" to Betty and Barney. but it didn't stop me from doing some odd nesting rituals. it didn't stop my hormones from raging in a predictably pregnant fashion. it didn't stop my milk from coming in. and it didn't stop my aimless wanderings for months (or years) afterwards, looking for something to fill the void of the child i had just nurtured and loved for nine months.

i remarked to Samantha that in giving away my son and my motherhood, i felt like i somehow gave away part of my womanhood. "talk about that", she prodded.

birth/first mothers hear so often that they're "selfless and brave" for placing. for allowing another woman (or man) the opportunity of motherhood (or parenthood). i know i heard that repeatedly, like a mantra, from the people around me. that i had given Betty and Barney the "greatest gift". meanwhile, i was stuffing tissues into my bra in the bathroom to stop my breasts from leaking and wondering when the baby schwag samples would stop arriving at my apartment door from some mailing list i unwittingly joined.

while i appreciated the kudos on some level - i suppose they made me feel better for a moment - i couldn't hold those sentiments. or feed them. or hug them. or burp them. or love them. i had nowhere to go with the feelings that my previously pregnant body and mind naturally produced. i was supposed to be a mother, according to my body. and this is where i told Samantha that i felt like i gave away a part of my womanhood, by nulling and voiding my motherhood.

i'd lie in bed at night, running my hands over my deflated and fat stomach, feeling lonely. missing something. it didn't matter that i traveled or got a promotion or got married. i'd smile and blather about the greatness of open adoption. but my body knew otherwise.

n00b

i'm on my third therapist at YourTherapyInstitute. my first one left and the second one i was assigned ended up not being able to see me due to insurance foul-ups. i could tell that Ivana Know, the Outpatient Director, was feeling pretty poorly about assigning me AGAIN. but assign me she did. unfortunately, i ended up going about 6 weeks without therapy while all of this was going on, which is a long time for someone like me.

i've now seen my New New Therapist, Samantha, 3 times. i dig her. she gets my sense of humor, and although she's primarily a Children's Therapist (the irony is NOT lost on me), we seem to get on just fine.

at my last session, we were all over the map topic-wise, finally settling into adoption. my ire was provoked, and stoked, by the impending holidays. she let me ramble, reining me in when necessary for clarification purposes.

"imagine everybody you know (family, friends, The Agency) telling you that it will get better, that the pain will lessen in time. that one day, when you have 'children of you own', it will be better. 'CHILDREN OF YOUR OWN'? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? everyone tells you these stupid f*cking platitudes and you know what? IT'S BULLSH*T" i howled, sobbing.

Samantha shifted her weight in her chair. "why do you think people told you that?"

i leaned forward, looking her dead in the eye, my elbows on my knees, "because if they told you the truth, that there are no guarantees, that you might NOT get over it, that maybe you wouldn't have the opportunity to parent again, that you might regret and feel the grief of this decision every day of your life, nobody would do it. and it makes them feel better. ultimately, its a means to an end. for someone."

Samantha folded her hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on me. "Barbara, i honestly don't know what to say at this moment."

well, that makes two of us.

outing

until last week, i hadn't uploaded any pics of The Kiddo to Faceb**k. it wasn't that i was ashamed or embarrassed, i just didn't feel like fielding potential questions from the girl who sat next to me in sophomore biology or those of her ilk. in an uploading frenzy, i threw some in there, putting them in the "Family" album. and i think three people noticed. or at least commented. and those folks already "knew".

a large part of me held those photos close to my chest out of fear. photos have always been a tricky subject: receiving them, taking them, having one taken of me & The Kiddo. maybe its been simply my own unease and anxiety at visits, but i've always felt like i've had to ask Betty's permission to take pictures. always. would she be freaked out and horrified to know that i've posted pictures publicly? probably. we discovered when the Kiddo was born that we have mutual friends-of friends-of friends.

i've somehow learned, at least for the moment, how to put aside my fear of Betty. i mean, what can she possibly do? not send updates? cut me off? oh, that's been done already. so what do i have to lose?

so to take part in the Adoption Carnival III, regarding my "favorite" adoption photo:

it hasn't been taken yet. and if & when it is taken someday, it won't be categorized as such.

dander

after i'd seen 3 advertisements on tv for The Agency in the span of 5 days, i'd had enough. i perused their site, looking for a "general comments" mailbox to send my comments on said advertising. my choices were: expectant mom, want to adopt and webmaster. after a mental game of "rock-scissors-paper", i chose the "expectant mom" email address. in retrospect, i should have probably chosen "webmaster". but isn't it all crystal clear in hindsight?

my outgoing email:

Hi _________,

there's not a "general questions/comments" email address, so i'm sending this to you. perhaps you could forward it on to the appropriate person.

i've noticed in the past several months the increasing frequency of The Agency ads on tv. as a birthmother who placed through your ________ office in 1998, i have to say that they're a little misleading and more than a little cringe-worthy. in three of the ad spots, it is stated to the viewer "keep in touch with your baby if you want". as you and i both know, there are no guarantees in open adoption. i'm sure its a great selling point to expectant moms who might be considering adoption, but "if you want" ? really? adoptive parents have the power, ultimately, about keeping in touch. they can send the updates, or they can not.

the first time i saw one of the ads, i was speechless. triggering? you bet. my husband remarked after the ad was over "you mean if they want". he was not involved in my son's adoption, but has been witness to the fallout over the past several years: the mailbox stakeout at birthday time for an update that doesn't arrive, my intense distress over what seems to be a now-closed adoption. in a time of "Juno" and "16 & Pregnant", it all seems so easy to paint a pretty picture about placing your baby.

i know, you're a business and you have to advertise. its just distressing to have it shoved in my face.

thanks for reading-

Barbara _________.

a response fell into my "in" box about 45 minutes later. this is copied and pasted, so grammatical & spelling errors are "as is".

I appreciate your email to me. I have now worked as an adoption caseworker for The Agency for the past 10 years and, indeed, the majority of our adoptive parents do keep the promises they make. If anything, the adoptive parents are disappointed when a birth parent losses contact or does not come to the summer picnic to meet up. I rarely call an adoptive parent to remind them of their promise to send pictures/letters of get together. On the times when I have called a family about sending pictures and letters, families have complied. I would be happy to facilitiate in your adoption. I took the liberty of looking up your file and know that you did work with our agency. Please let me know how I can help.

my reply:

thanks for your response. this wasn't a push for you to contact my son's family. that's highly unnecessary. merely a comment on a very important and misleading piece of your advertising. i'm not the exception in this situation. i know several other birthmothers (some who placed through other agencies) where this has occurred. and yes, i've met adoptive parents that would be just as eager to hear from their child's birthparents. i'm not blaming The Agency for any open adoptions gone sour, but using "contact if you want", when the ball isn't in the birthparent's court after finalization.

thanks again.

-barb

her response:

I hear you. But, I guess, I see both sides of things here. I am an adoptive parent of _____ children, _____ of which are biological siblings, and ____ adopted from Foreign Land. My _____who are adopted in the U.S. have no contact with their birth mother and I have made numerous attempts to try. She has decided to cut us off from communication. I know it is a very emotional process. I would not contact the adoptive parents for you unless you asked. Just wanted to reply. Thanks.

hm. i've been sitting on this post for over two weeks, letting myself wander over this exchange, which took place in the span of two hours. i wasn't quite sure where to start.

my unsolicited opinion on their advertising led to ..................... hearing how the "birthmother counselor" is upset by her kids' birthmother not being in contact? are you kidding? i laughed. oh, how i laughed at the absurdity.

and then another thought popped into my head. this tv spot runs in the geographical area the Kiddo and i share. how would this commercial make him feel? or how about Betty? have they seen it? christonabike.

what did i expect? that i'd get a "omigosh you're totally right! we'll yank those ads right away!"? of course not. i'm realistic.

i've never joined any adoption causes: ethics and open records most importantly. i've always just written how it's impacting me. and speculating about the Kiddo. so i'm not sure why exactly this sticks in my craw so strongly - enough for me to write a letter in complaint. the "easy" targets are the facts that its "my" agency and that my experiences rank far below my expectations. and believe me, my expectations weren't that high.

but it's so much more than that. those words "if you want" imply so much. change the inflection on the words any which way and the implied meaning is different. and it can't ultimately be upheld. its a reality which may or may not happen. what about the many, many women i've come to know who have gone through a similar situation? you know, "normal contact" for a few years then....nothing. i am not alone in this boat.

i applaud those folks that really make it work, like Jenna & Dawn. i'm envious. and i admire them. it takes special and supportive people to actually walk the road together without a map.

even though my responses from the agency were moderately unsatisfying, i somehow still feel like i won. i had said something. i objected. i objected to having it slapped in my face.

GO ME.

friday afternoon

i was lying on the bed reading when my cell phone rang. the house phone rang a few minutes prior, but our phone & answering machine are located in a storage cabinet in the kitchen, and i didn't feel like getting up and just heard the murmuring of a message recording.

when i looked at my phone, the display showed "private number". interesting and slightly mysterious. so i answered it.

"may i please speak to Barbara?"

"speaking."

"hi Barbara, this is the Ivana Know, Director of Outpatient Therapy at YourTherapyInstitute."

"mmm, hi. what can i do for you?"

"i was just calling you to ensure that you'd been contacted earlier regarding the fact that Carol is no longer with YourTherapyInstitute".

shit.

i sighed.

"no, i was not contacted. so what's next?"

Ivana chuckled. "you sound resigned"

"well, it is what is, right?"

she set me up with a new therapist, Clarice, and an appointment three weeks from now.

"while i have you on the phone, Ivana, is there anyone at YourTherapyInstitute that has experience in adoption? you know, like birthparent grief and "adoption fallout". "

"i've been reading your chart, and see that's one of your issues. while we don't have anyone here with specific experience, i think Clarice may be a good fit for you. if after a session or two, you don't think its going to work, call me personally and we'll take it from there."

we exchanged pleasantries and disconnected.

i shambled out into the living room where Chris was watching Phillies pre-game hooha. he knew something was brewing, hearing me at the calendar.

"Carol left YourTherapyInstitute".

we talked about it for awhile. i was upset. no, not quite. i was angry. royally angry. a waste of time, a waste of money. and i'll get the pleasure of starting all over again. somebody might think that it was kind of a blessing, considering that i was mulling over whether or not to switch therapists. but i hadn't decided, as my next appointment with Carol was slated for this coming Monday.

back to the drawing board.

9.25.09

i've been struggling over this post for about a week. i'm sure of my forthcoming posts will have me struggling. and that's okay.

my therapist knows nothing, and i mean nothing, about adoption. at all. zippo. nada.

i'm extremely frustrated. i've spent time, for which i'm paying money, educating her about adoption. basics.

for instance, two sessions ago we came upon the subject of the Kiddo's name change.

"...and then they named him W- and i had named him Jacob...."

"can they do that? change his name?"

"---------------------------- (my immediate thought: ohmygodicantbelievethis)"

do i expect my therapist to know everything about adoption? of course not. however.

the last session we had was 90% about adoption, where previous sessions had been a whirlwind of incidents spanning my emotional lifetime. about 15 minutes in, i could already feel my jaw start to set, my back teeth pressing together in steeling myself for the next 30 minutes. it was maddening.

driving south on my way home, i starting weighing the new relationship with my therapist. Carol has been mighty helpful so far in showing me some things that i hadn't expected. even though i've been hashing and rehashing events for years, i've clearly overlooked the obvious. so for that, she's been pretty great.

but its been pretty clear pretty quickly that i'm going to have problems talking about adoption. and i need to be able to do that. i don't want to dread therapy. i need to be honest. a conundrum.