They came for our mothers…

wrote this back in 2011…and what seems to be happening now made me remember it.

They came for our mothers, targeted one by one,

Society was their army, always present, always willing to condemn,

Words of shame and threats of what will the neighbors think were the only weapons needed then.

Our families sent our mothers away to protect the family name from public shame.

Stories fabricated why their daughters were sent away all done to protect their precious family name.

Our mothers went to maternity homes or distant relatives far, far away.

They told our mothers were how unworthy, shameless, and immoral they truly were,

Told adoption was their only salvation, and if they truly loved us they would give us away,

That babies deserved a mother and a father, not a poor unwed shameful mother.

They drugged and strapped our mothers down when their labor time was near,

They posted signs warning others – stay away, stay away, B.F.A…don’t you dare come near.

Not allowed to hold us, some not told they had a boy or girl, and even some that we had died.

Mothers told to go back home and carry on and hold your head up high,

Never speak of it, keep it secret, find a man get married and have another,

And today’s society still denies the damage caused to our mothers during the time now called The Baby Scoop Era.

I was born one winter day, taken to the nursery, cared for, yet unloved, and never named.

No one there to celebrate my birth and on day four I too became a ward, yet another Baby For Adoption, one of millions, nothing special, nothing more.

Two months later I became someone new, named, a new mother, father too, and a brand new ABC – falsified to hide my illegitimate shame.

Yet that day, I also lost my mother, my father, my family too, long before I could give voice to my feelings and desires.

That day I also lost my right to know who I was the day I was born, or get my OBC when I was older – at least that is until the day the court deemed I too had good cause to know my history,

Still the victory is hollow, the price is far too high, and yet still others have gone, and others will go to their graves, still denied.

As babies we were so valuable, bargained for, advertised for, coveted, prayed for, paid for…

Told we were special, chosen, loved, lucky, cherished, theirs forever more!

That our mothers loved us so much that they willing gave us away to have “two” parents, not just the “one” mother we most desired.

Now as adults we are told our rights don’t matter – that our mothers are afraid and live in secret fear – that their shameful past will be uncovered,

That we will “out them”, and “cause harm beyond repair”, and just to add more guilt and fear upon us – that we will hurt our other parents too!

That our mothers will not want to know us, or know we are alive, okay, or even that we may live right next door…

So I ask society and the adoption industry too – which story you tell is true, that our mothers loved us so much we were willing given away…

Or that they don’t love us and we make them so afraid, that one day we will come knocking, and that we might even want to know them too!

I was always told you cannot have it both ways, so from that I can only conclude – the adoption industry lies and I want to know which story is really true…

And now I see the signs that they are coming for unwed mothers once again, and in my heart I know it’s their healthy white babies which are the long sought-after prize…

Did they not learn from history that what they did was wrong, that the pain they caused never ever truly ends?

But to some it seems there is no price too high when babies are the goal, do they really have no shame to even consider bringing back the infamous Baby Scoop Era – yet again?

 

Safe Haven Boxes

I’ve written in the past about Safe Haven Boxes, and no, I don’t support them, I believe education and supportive services should be front and center. Do a public education campaign about adoption and other options available, options available at the hospital, the doctor, your church, options that give you time to think things through, rather than a decision you may regret with no recourse. When Safe Haven Baby Boxes became a thing again a while ago I was flabbergasted. I’ve written a couple of posts over the years, but the first post I’m linking to is from The Daily Bastardette, she’s brilliant and knowledgable.

 

Adoptive Parents Missing the Obivous

I copied many of the replies from this post on the FB Adoptive Families Page a couple hours after it had linked to this post: “AFTER DECADES OF PAIN, MOTHER REUNITES WITH SON GIVEN UP FOR ADOPTION IN WYOMING 51-YEARS AGO”

 

Birthdays & Names

If you are adopted…

And adopted shortly after birth…

 

Heaviness

There’s a heaviness to everything right now that weaves itself into every aspect of my life. A heaviness I haven’t felt for years. There are times when I find myself just sitting in my chair and watch my thoughts shuffle through my mind, none sticking, rather, they are gone the instant my mind randomly shuffles to the next thought. All I know is this isn’t my normal, my normal is boringly normal, not heavy, not carrying a level of fear like it is now, I haven’t had this level of fear simmering just below the surface of every waking moment since I had my health events.

 

Adopt A …

Tis the Christmas Season and every year there’s a flurry of posts on different Adoption Facebook pages and groups about all those Adopt A Family, Pet, Highway, programs – what have you. By far, it seems the most common is the Adopt A Pet that a fair amount of people in the adoption seem to get upset about, others don’t see the problem, and those that just say Meh, whatever.

 

Dear pro-life would be adopter…from 2015

(Lots of online discussion on adopting due to the recent SC nominee so it seems timely to re-up this post and hopefully make some think)

Readers know I don’t use the term ‘adopter’ lightly, and it applies only to a few out there. I read a very disturbing post today by someone with infertility, who is pro-life and also wants to adopt. I was ready to rebut her post, it felt good writing thoughts down, but it wouldn’t have done any good.  Instead, I decided to write this post, perhaps she’ll read it, or someone just like her. Perhaps it will trigger reflection, perhaps not, but I’ve tried in the kindest way I know…

She’s not ready to adopt…

 

Getting personal in regards to being adopted.

I’ve been pondering on a conversation my husband and I had the other night, sparked by a question on a game show of all things. Something about how long is too long for your in-laws to visit. Long story short, he didn’t like how mom treated me, how she always seemed to find a way to put me down.

 

The Name on the Original Birth Certificate

I’ve been thinking about naming and how it seems to be done today in DIA (Domestic Infant Adoption), and why one aspect bothers me, both personally and ethically. That is what has been bouncing around in my thoughts lately, so I thought I’d try to make sense in a post.

 

Making Choices

We make choices every day, but the values that drives those choices is what is important. I shopped at the same grocery chain for decades, even after their ownership changed, I resisted trying their competitor for more than a year. During that year I noticed older employees disappearing, new employees so young I wondered if they’d ever shopped for groceries before. Name brands disappearing, replaced with no-name products I’d never heard of before, or knew what company produced.

 

From 2014: Every single day…

My mother was asked by someone fairly close to her, if she still thought about me after all this time.  The title was the immediate answer.  Stop and think about what that means to a mother.  To me, it means that not only did she think about me, she would have wondered if I was okay, healthy, happy, sad, even if I was alive. I can only begin to imagine the level of pain she lived with, because without knowledge, I doubt that she would think only good thoughts, not have any worries about the life I was living, rather, they would include if I was living, what my new family was like, was I loved, was I okay. I compare her words with the length of time I thought of my son every single day – before I had days, and then, weeks go by without thinking about my son after he passed. That transition happened long before the first decade had passed and having lived through that, I can’t imagine the pain that stretched decades, day in, day out, no relief, no forgetting. It’s incomprehensible, and makes tears roll down my face just thinking about it.

 

Quick thought

I think sometimes prospective and adoptive parents don’t realize that how they say something – tells the reader the person’s feelings of privilege and entitlement to adopt someone else’s baby. The quote below is in response to a comment about how birthparents should be allowed to spend time in hospital without the adopting parents there: