Happy Mother's Day

My mom's favorite flower, Bleeding Hearts

I can honestly enjoy Mother's day. I know that may sound a bit odd considering what I have shared about my adoption journey. But for as long as I can remember, I have always really enjoyed Mother's day. I was always excited to see how creative I could be when it came time to pick something as a gift. Over the years however, I must admit my creative juices have dried up a bit. I find myself trying to top the previous year's gift. At my age, I'm lucky to get a good card picked let alone a gift. My 4 year old keeps me busy yet distracted from my task at hand. This year was no exception.

After weeks of scavenging a variety of websites, numerous magazine articles & a couple of trips to the local mall searching for some ideas, I decided on something simple. The gift of relaxation. I know that sounds a bit odd, & unoriginal, but it's what she really needs.


My mom is & always has been, one of those superwomen. She's been the doting mom, the working mom, the "do-everything-with-a-smile-so-they-don't-see-how-stressed-out-you-really-are mom, the ever supportive mom, the "tough love" mom, the stay at home mom and for the last few years, the single workaholic mom.

I never thought that I would see the day when my mom became the workaholic mom. In all honesty, it snuck up on her. Mom use to work part time while taking care of my sister & I. After my parents got divorced, she went back to work full time instead of taking child support from my dad. (Especially since it was $200 a month for 2 kids.) Gradually, overtime became just part of the job. Even as I grew up & moved out on my own, mom still worked as hard as ever. I never felt as if mom was picking her job over her children. The reality is, my mom is phenomenal at her job. She's a nurse.
Mom's bedside manner & the way she connects with her patients is amazing. She genuinely cares about her patients & tries to make each & every one feel more comfortable. Her specialty though is 2 things: kids and starting iv's. Every time there is a young patient on the schedule, my mom is who the doctor's ask for. She has even had parents ask if she was working a specific day before they schedule their child for an operation. I find that amazing! Then there is her intravenous skills.

To be quite blunt, my mom could start an iv on an elephant in the dark with one hand tied behind her back. Well, maybe not the last part but you get the idea. The best thing about my mom & her abilities is that she is humble about them. She says she her abilities are a gift from God. I think she's being a bit modest, but whatever the case maybe, she is not one to brag. I really respect my mom for that. In this day & age it is refreshing to see such humility. Fast forward to today..

After all of my ideas slowly dwindled down to nothing, I went simple. What does mom really need or want? The answer was an overwhelming "nothing ". Suddenly I remembered her saying something about wanting to get her hair done. That was it! I would set up an appointment for her & I to do just that. We could get in some "girl time" alone without my son. (As much as I love him, I really need some adult interaction every now & then!) So that is what we did today.

As I sat talking to mom about a variety of things, I realized how much I had missed our girl time. Sure we have more than enough opportunity to do so. Honestly though, I know how much my mother enjoys spending time with my son. Her face literally lights up at the mere mention of him coming over to spend the night. So I cave in, and give her what I know she wants; her grandma time with him. I have to admit, at times I get a wee bit jealous. That all subsides though when I see the love my mom & son share. Each time they come home, I get a rundown of the day's events from BOTH of them. I often wonder who has more fun & who is the child? The energy boost my son gives my mother is almost electric. It is not only visible on her face but in her spirit as well. She always seems to leave my house with an extra swing in her step.

As mom & I drove home, I didn't want the day to end. I couldn't help but wonder if this is how my son feels on his numerous return trips home. I'm pretty sure it is. Now I wasn't so jealous. As I got out of the car my son came rushing out to greet us. Only this time, he ran to me first. I felt my heart melt a little bit. It was good to know I am still number 1 in his book.

So this Mother's Day I want to take the time & recognize my mom not only for being a mom, but my best friend. Thanks mom for everything you do & sometimes for the things you don't do. (Inside joke there!) I had this poem e-mailed to me today & I couldn't get over how appropriate it is.




Everything Mom How did you find the energy, Mom
To do all the things you did,
To be teacher, nurse and counselor
To me, when I was a kid. How did you do it all, Mom,
Be a chauffeur, cook and friend,
Yet find time to be a playmate,
I just can’t comprehend. I see now it was love, Mom
That made you come whenever I'd call,
Your inexhaustible love, Mom
And I thank you for it all. By Joanna Fuchs

Who asked you anyway?

I've been meaning to write but in all honesty, haven't been able to find the strength or the courage. For once, that's the truth & it feels good just to say it. I need to be writing but can't seem to get out what I'm attempting to say without it sounding like a jumbled mess. So here I am, up late once again, unable to sleep & my thoughts are running like a wild flowing river.



I have this kind of love/hate relationship with the topic of adoption & the term birth mother. Sometimes I am ok with it all, then I there is someone or something that ignites the fire simmering just below the surface. Recently my disdain for adoption erupted after having a conversation with another birth mother.

I "met" Elizabeth through one of those social networks. (I called EVERY single adoption agency in my area looking for some kind of birth mother support group & was actually told to go to this website as crazy & ridiculous as that sounds!) Although her circumstances in her adoption experience were very different than mine, Elizabeth, & I struck up a friendship. Elizabeth is older than myself, married for the second time & a mom of 2 older children. She grew up in the time when open adoption was the new trend in adoption. I like to call her an "old school" birthmom. She is someone I felt I could go to and be myself with: emotional wounds & all. I quickly found out I was wrong.

The other day there was topic posted for discussion in a birthmom group. The topic was sharing our own person story (experience) with adoption. So I shared my post from on here. Most of the responses I got were those of thankfulness & gratitude for being brave enough to share my story. Then there came Elizabeth. She sent me a private message simply stating "Hope all is better for you". Hmm , a little odd with a hint of something underlying I thought. The following day I was again online & Elizabeth IM'ed me. We started talking about all the normal stuff: kids, work, family, weather, activities health, etc. Then the conversation took the direction that it always does, back to adoption & our "kids".

As much as I love her, Elizabeth is an example of what I never want to be as a birthmom: self loathing. She refuses to forgive herself for the terrible atrocity she refers to as "giving her child away". She fixates on this daily and refuses to see the children she has today as worthy of her love & attention. She spends night & day waiting for her reunion with her daughter. I have always tried to listen with an open mind & open heart as I know what it's like to need that kind of understanding only another birthmom can give. 

As I listened to her go on again about something related to her daughter I found myself tuning out momentarily. Surprised at my lack of attentiveness, I literally shook my head & tried to get my head back into the conversation. I listened & put in my 2 cents when appropriate. As expected, the conversation gradually shifted towards my recent post.

Things started off ok: a few questions here a few questions there. Then things got uncomfortable. Next it was, "you should do this, you should do that" I was getting a lecture, no, more like, a reprimand rather than engaging in a conversation. I was shocked. Just because she is a birthmom, does not giver her anymore right to tell me what to do than anyone else. Did I not sit & listen to her issues & input my thoughts when appropriate? Did I not attempt to extend a hand in friendship? What right did she have to just tromps in and demand I do things the way she would if she was given the opportunity? Suddenly, it all made sense: That's exactly why Elizabeth was being so critical. I had what she so desperately wanted: a part in her child's life. 

As the conversation continued Elizabeth continued to try & persuade me to in her words,"go back & fix it" with my adoptive family & son. After a few more minutes of conversation, Elizabeth soon realized her pleas were falling on deaf ears. Frustrated, she hastily made some comment in closing, and logged off. I was baffled. What had just happened here? Where had all of this come from?


As I ran through the whole conversation in my head, I got angry. Once again, I was being judged by someone who should have understood my situation better than anyone else. Of all the people I should have felt safe sharing my personal story with, it should have been Elizabeth. It was then that I realized that no mater who you are, who you are with, what your beliefs are & are not, one is never safe from judgment by others. If am to be completely honest, deep down I have always know this but chose not to believe it. To admit such a thing, is to also admit I am guilty of exact same thing. (We are all human are we not?) My entire life, I have always prided myself in the fact that I have tried so hard not to be judgmental. We've all heard the adage," for every finger you have pointed, there are 3 pointed backwards." It's a phrase that I keep mentally fresh in my mind. There's nothing more I despise more than a hypocrite. I never want to be that person for someone else. Still stunned & attempting to figure out what I could learn from Elizabeth & I's conversation, it came to me; the reason why I was so upset.


What bothered me the most about Elizabeth's attitude towards me is that I didn't ask to hear her take on my situation. I understand why she feels the way she does. I completely understand where she's coming from. I do, I honestly do. However, I can't have a relationship with my son just because she would give anything to be in my position. I take it even one step further than that. I can't do what other people want me to do according to their standards. It is this exact issue that I have found, applies to a variety of people I have in my life. It includes everyone from my mother, to my in-laws;my husband to my friends; my family to my son's adoptive family. I can't be everything to everyone at any given time. I have tried & it does no good. It only causes more frustration & grief.


One of the factors in my decision to no longer have direct contact with my adoptive family was this exact situation; Me attempting to be someone I am not. I am not the "greatful birthmom"; I don't subscribe to the attitude "oh thank you for giving my child such a great life. I am forever indebted to you!" I am the farthest thing away from humble as one can get when it comes to being a birthmom. Maybe it's because I don't feel that way. I never really have. I have tried, but it always sounded so fake when those words came from my mouth. I feel there should be just as much respect given to a birthmother as is required of birth mother's to give adoptive mothers. Is one more of a mother than the other? I say no. I feel each is as equally important as the other at this point & time in my adoption journey. The following poem better makes my point:

Legacy of an Adopted Child

Once there were two women
Who never knew each other.
One you do not remember
The other you call Mother.

Two different lives
Shaped to make you one.
One became your guiding star
The other became your sun.

The first one gave you life
And the second taught you to live it.
The first gave you a need for love
The second was there to give it.

One gave you a nationality
The other gave you a name.
One gave you a talent
The other gave you aim.

One gave you emotions
The other calmed your fears.
One saw your first sweet smile
The other dried your tears.

One sought for you a home
That she could not provide.
The other prayed for a child
And her hope was not denied.

And now you ask me through your tears
The age old question unanswered through the years.
Heredity or environment
Which are you a product of?
Neither my Darling, neither.
Just two different kinds of Love.

Right now, I am really tired; tired of defending myself & 
my choice to place for adoption, tired of being told who I need to be & 
what I need to do.

Tired of not being respected, tired of not being listened to, heard & genuinely understood; tired of being labeled all for the sake of making someone else feel more comfortable. 

I am not here for any of that. I am here to be me, the best me I can be(corny yes, never the less true though.) I don't live my life for anybody else or their standards. In doing that I would be less human, less me. 

I don't know how to be anything else than what I am already. I'm sure I will change certain aspects of my life while others will stay the same. I will continue to learn, grow & mature. As long as I continue to do so, with an open mind how can anyone judge that? Isn't that what life is all about? Discovering things along the way in this thing we call life? 

Only time will tell if the decisions I have made in regards to my adoption were right or wrong. Right now I feel I made the right decision FOR ME & my son! That's all that matters. If I am wrong, I will stand in judgment for it. I can live with that. Until that day comes, I will continue to be true to myself. As long as I can get up each morning & look myself in the mirror & be proud of who I am and what I stand for then that's all the matters.

Ironically, over the past few days, I have come to realize that this little skirmish has actually solidified my decision. I know that if I were to continue down the path that I was on with my adoptive family, I would have grown to hate, & resent them; maybe even become like Elizabeth. I am oh so grateful that I could see ahead of time the pain I would have caused myself & chose not to continue in that direction. I thank God for sending me Elizabeth if for no other reason than that.