Open to interpretation

One of the things that drives me crazy in blog land is when a comment that I think is relevant and on point with the original blog post gets lost in the crossfire of subsequent comments that zero in on some aspect of the relevant comment that gets under somebody's skin. I'd be surprised if I've never been guilty of doing this myself so this post is not to be critical of anyone but rather to highlight an important comment I came across today. I've been given permission to post it here and if the author wishes to make herself known, she may do so in the comments section here.

The comment was in response to the question What does it mean to be a healthy birth mom?

I've linked to the post because the question as it stands alone does not convey the context in which it's being asked and I think the motive behind asking the question is an important thing to consider when reading the comment I've posted below.

There are many of us who have already lived the majority of our “birthmother lifespan” and have come to very different places 40 or so years after surrender. I know your interest is in open adoptions, but many of us from the closed system are still alive and hope to be for a while, and you may encounter us in your therapy career.


My story is not so typical as those in the excellent book “Girls Who Went Away”, but it is similar to a small subset of activist birthmothers who came out in the 70s and 80s and have remained involved in adoption reform. I was never in denial or really in the closet, and I joined adoption reform search groups as soon as I heard there was such a thing. My child was very young. I searched as soon as the opportunity presented itself. I was furiously angry, radical, hated adoption. I even had an actual “Adoption Sucks” tee shirt.


In those days before the internet, we had in-person groups and lots of phone contact, as well as print newsletters. The peer pressure then was to find and contact your child as soon as possible, There was good reason for this, some found kids in dire circumstances and at least one in our local groups was just given back at age 12 because the adoptive father and stepmom did not want him! Some of these early contacts worked well, but others did not, like mine when my son was 16. This made me doubly angry at the adoption system, adoptive parents, the world, and most of all myself. There is a lot of self-destructive behavior among surrendering mothers, and I was right up there with that.


Then along came internet groups, and a new group of mothers who surrendered who had been in the closet woke up and came out. There was a disconnect between these lists and the earlier groups like CUB, and a lot of reinventing the wheel and ignorance of the history of adoption reform. As you say, there are definite camps with rigid ideology and a lot of peer pressure to conform or get out. On one side are the young “happy birthmothers” who are often shilling for agencies, on the other side, the anti-adoption groups, who see all adoption as one of the world’s greatest evils that needs to be eradicated. A real problem in these groups is the “Pain Olympics” where extreme suffering and pathology after surrender is seen as a virtue and proof that you really love your child. There is now a fad to claim Post traumatic stress disorder as a result of surrender, self-diagnosed and proudly proclaimed. It is way too easy to get stuck in a downward spiral in a lot of these groups that claim to be “empowering” but are actually taking power and healthy response away.


My personal journey I think got stuck in bitterness and anger for too many years, and this was reinforced by the groups I was in or associated with. There is a strong thread of “you can never get over surrender”, even a little, and it is seen as disloyal to your child or in denial if you do experience some healing or joy. Ambivalence? Yes, lots, and that is life-long, but I have also found a bit of peace when my son finally started communicating with me and I knew he was OK. Reunion really did help me a lot, although that is heresy to say in some circles. After so many years I am no longer grieving, the grief went on too long. My son is alive and well, not to be grieved. I will always regret giving him up, but I also take responsibility for my part in surrender. For me that was pivotal, to stop blaming everything on others and step up to the plate about my part. It did not kill me to do this, as some mothers seem to feel, but made me stronger.


In counseling mothers who surrendered, one size does not fit all, despite what some online groups would have you think. Really listen to the details of the individual mother and her story. It may indeed change over a lifetime, and probably that is healthiest, Some of the happy young birthmothers will become unhappy when they look closer, and some of the bitter old birthmothers will become more accepting and at peace as time passes and circumstances change. There is a saying “I have been through hell but don’t have to live there”. I feel I have indeed been through hell as a surrendering mother, but am no longer intent on staying there. I am now regarded as a traitor by some for not being anti-adoption, but would not be welcomed by the “rah rah adoption is great” moms either, because it most definitely has not been for me.


I do believe mothers are very different individuals, and that some truly do not want to parent and are content with the choice to surrender. I do not feel I can know another person’s true feelings or gainsay what they say about how they feel today. But there does need to be an openness to change, in either direction, and a respect for individual rather than lumping us all into a class and branding those who do not fit as “in denial,” “drank the koolaid” etc.