Struggles of a birthmother around Mother's Day

I recently read an article about Mother's Day that resonated with me.

Mother's Day and I have a hit-and-miss relationship. Some years, I haven't really thought about adoption at all. Other years, Mother's Day has been terribly difficult. Unfortunately, this year seems to be one of the latter.

These are some of the things I struggle with, come Mother's Day:

-All the acknowledgment of mothers make me (selfishly) crave that recognition. But while I am not secretive about my placement, it's not something I speak of often. I work with children, and I don't find it appropriate to discuss in my workplace. I haven't told my in-laws. And in general, it's just not something I speak of on a regular basis. That said, when Mother's Day rolls around, I feel sadly excluded. I want to talk about motherhood. I want to celebrate the fruit of my womb. I want to be recognized for the sacrifice I made. But I remain silent.

-Mother's Day makes me miss Ian. Or rather, the idea of Ian. The idea of that child who I chose not to raise. I do not regret that choice. But my arms ache sometimes for the child I lost.

-It also gives rise to the intense, desperate craving that I have to truly be a mother--to bear and raise children of my own. I am hopeful that this desire will not be long in coming to me. But every year around Mother's Day, even now that I am happily married, I feel a terrible fear rise within me--the fear that I will not be able to bear any more children. That something will go wrong, that I am broken, that I will never experience the glorious gift of pregnancy and childbirth for my own sake, rather than on behalf of another family.

I know that it will be okay. I have felt the reassurance of friends, loved ones, and my Father in Heaven again and again. But every once and awhile, I feel like there's no shame in admitting (to the blogosphere, at least) that I am sad, and grieving, and afraid. I know that I will be okay--but for now, I am simply allowing myself to feel.

Aunt Valerie!

My sister had a baby this weekend.

My sister, who is the daughter of my birthfather and his wife.

I LOVE having a relationship with my birth-family. (My birthfather's side, anyway. My birthmother is still MIA.) I love that I get to meet my nephew and have a relationship with him. I love that I get to be there for my sisters' big life events. I love that I get to know them, and love them.

Open adoption is the best!

Dealing with the baggage I brought into my marriage

Back when I was single, I tried to imagine what part my adoption would play in my courtship/engagement and marriage. I had a few ideas of what to expect, having listened to other birthmothers and their husbands describe their experiences. Two months into my marriage, I've now had a few experiences of my own.

I told James about my birth-son and my adoption experience on our second date. That's pretty early for me. Once, I've told a guy on the first date. Every other time it's been three, four, five dates into the process before I've shared this deeply personal experience. But James and I had been friends for almost a year before we started dating, and I knew that I could trust him. Beyond that, things were moving pretty fast, and I felt like I needed to tell him before our courtship proceeded any further.

Telling James was, as it always is, incredibly nerve-wracking. I was afraid that our relationship would come to a screeching halt as soon as the words were out of my mouth. I was afraid that he would look at me differently. Being James, I wasn't really afraid that he would treat me any differently. But I was hoping and praying that he would be understanding.

He didn't say a whole lot about it that night. Two days later when I saw him again, he admitted that he had struggled, truly struggled, with what I had told him. So much so that he requested a priesthood blessing from his best friend. The truly amazing part was this--James didn't tell his friend anything, simply that he was struggling with something. And in the blessing, James was told that he would bear this trial for the sake of his future family. He describes the experience here.

That was it, for awhile. I rarely bring up the topic. Being a birthmom is not a present part of my life right now. It's on the back-back-back burner of my brain at the moment. But it has come up, a few times. Ian recently turned 7 and, as his birthday tends to do to me, I became a little reflective. Seven years old! I can hardly fathom it. Seven years feels like an eon ago. I was an entirely different person!

James once grew upset, as I was talking about Ian. I could tell that he wasn't happy, so I tried to figure out why. He erupted with emotion. We both got rather agitated as we tried to talk through it. (I cried, curse it all.) But for me, it all came down to one revelation:

Ian & adoption are separate from the act (sin) of his conception.

I do not equate them. Thinking about Ian brings me joy, pride, and occasional nostalgia for what might have been. I love him, I am happy for him, I like seeing pictures of him, I like hearing how he is doing, I like receiving pictures he has drawn, I like hearing about the crazy things he says.

Thinking about his conception makes me remember feelings of shame, loneliness, guilt, embarrassment, despair, uncertainty, and anger. Thinking about Ian's birthfather (which I try to avoid doing) makes me remember feeling sad, spiteful, and a terrible anger that rode with me for a very long time, until I was able to find forgiveness for him.

Thinking about Ian is sometimes a reflection of the past, but it is often a thing of the present. Thinking of his conception and his birthfather is always a thing of the past. I have repented. I have forgiven. I have moved on with my life. I do not like remembering that time. There is nothing to gain from it.

I realized that my husband was equating these two, very separate things. Whenever I talked about Ian, all my husband could think of was Ian's birthfather. And that realization allowed us to process our emotions--both of us.

I'm not saying everything is perfect. I know it's still something that James struggles with, which means I struggle with it too. But we understand each other a little better than we did before, and we're moving forward with the best of intentions. We love each other, and we are both committed to seeing our marriage succeed. That includes forgiving each other of past mistakes, and proceeding hand-in-hand through the future trials our life together has in store.

Hi, I'm back. Not really coherent, but at least present.

Adoption has ups and downs. I would guess that almost everyone who lives adoption would agree. I guess a broader statement could be that relationships have ups and downs, and adoption is just a more complicated relationship than most.

I've been pretty busy lately. My job is quite demanding, and since I love my job immensely, I end up spending more of my time and energy there than most people devote to their work. Also, my novel is being released next month, and getting published has turned out to be a great deal more work than I ever anticipated. I'm very excited to see it released, and everything which will follow.

However, even with the craziness of day-to-day life, adoption ever lurks in the back of my mind. Some interesting things have happened of late, some things that are not as I would like them to have happened. I'm not sure how to address them at this point. It feels dishonest to pretend as though everything were right and happy, when they're not, but I also don't want to blow things out of proportion.

Last week, I spoke at an alternative high school in Kaysville. I was on a panel with another birthmom, an adoption lawyer, a social worker, and a counselor from a pregnancy crisis center. It was a different experience than anything I've had before. A lot of the students there are single parenting. I looked at them and I just saw babies. Children raising children. It made me really grateful for the education and support that I received while I was making my own decision.

Despite the ups and downs, I know that adoption was the right decision for me, and certainly the right decision for my son. With that in mind, I press forward as an adoption advocate, spreading the word and spreading the love as best as I can.

On the eve of conference

Tomorrow begins the 2010 FSA International Conference. I am strangely calm and nervous at the same time. I am speaking twice--the first is a presentation all on my own, on the topic of "Finding the RIGHT Adoptive Couple". This class is specifically for expectant parents who are in the process of making their adoption plan and choosing an adoptive couple. I expect it will be a small class, as there are far more birth parents in attendance than girls who are pregnant right now. But I have had the impression that I am supposed to teach this class, and so I feel that even if there's one person in the class, I am meant to touch that one person. My second session is a panel of adoptees, which should be a piece of cake. What makes it awesome is that my birthdad Jason will be there. He's presenting on a panel of birth fathers. AND my parents will be there! So I'll be in the middle of my own adoptive triad. The only thing that would complete it more is if my son and his parents were there too. Alas!

I have to be honest, dear reader, that I have been kind of out of it for awhile now, as far as the adoption world is concerned. I mean, I've been planning this conference, which is time consuming (though not as bad this year as it was last year), and I still do a fair amount of volunteer work. But I just sort of feel disconnected. I've heard that a lot of birthmoms go through this back and forth thing, as far as their involvement and passion for adoption activities. It's weird, hard to explain. With this conference, I feel like I'm going through the motions. And I'm sure it will be a great conference. But I'm also sure I could have done a lot more to make it even better.

Adoption is important to me. My adoption experiences are a critical part of my life. And I never want my passion for adoption advocacy to fade. I don't really understand what it is that I'm going through at the moment. Honestly, I'm hoping that the conference will revitalize me.

Beyond anything else, though, I am excited for the conference as a whole. I'm looking forward to a great weekend! And I hope to see many adoption-world friends there as well. =)

FSA National Conference

I can't believe it's almost this time again. It feels like last month we were up in Layton for the Families Supporting Adoption National Conference. But almost a year has gone by and we're getting prepped and PUMPED for this year's conference. It's going to be July 30-31st, again at the Davis Conference Center in Layton, UT. We are broadening the spectrum even further than last year, with more classes for birth parents and several classes specifically for birth grandparents.

You know, it really is something special to me, to be as intimately involved in this conference as I am. I love my volunteer work. It is one of the most fulfilling things I do. Planning this conference is, of course, right up my alley, with my event(/theatre) management background. I love fitting all the pieces together.

This is going to be a great experience for everybody--adoptive couples, birth parents, birth grandparents, adoption workers, we'll even have a class with adoptees that should be fun. It was a phenomenal experience last year. I'm hoping that even more birth families hear about it and decide to come this year. Spread the word!

Ian's a big brother now

Just thought you should know. =)

I was thinking about it the other day, how complicated adoption can seem. Because Baby B. is not adopted...and there's a bunch of schtuff that goes along with that. But that's what I love so much about my relationship with Ian's family. Jen and I had this conversation months ago--and frankly, I'm pretty content to be "birthmom" to both these little boys, my own flesh and blood, and Jen's own flesh and blood.

Things are pretty quiet on the adoption front. But things are good. All I have to see are pictures of Ian's big grins looking down at Baby B. to know that things are good.