Mothers Day

When I was pregnant with my son, pretty much alone and terrified, one of the last entries in my diary was noting that it was Mother’s Day. I notice i often stop writing when things are really troubling me. I think that Mother’s Day when as far as the rest of the world was concerned I was not worthy to be a mother was pretty much the worst one I have ever spent. It was a long way to December when my son was born. To be alone is a terrible thing. To be given the message that you are not worthy is a terrible and sad thing. It is also a lie. Everyone is worthy. I was worthy. More than worthy. So was my son.

I think often of adoptees who have gone in search of their mothers and found them wanting. Wanting in love for them. Rejecting of them in reunion. I don’t understand that. Studies have shown that a very high percentage, around 95%, want to meet their children lost to adoption.

When I read of rejections I want to write to the adoptee and say how sorry I am. I’d like write to the mother too. I don’t understand their response but maybe at some level I do.

When you lose a child to adoption the only way to survive in a world that refuses to talk about or acknowledge your loss is to shut down some part of you. I think sometimes that this is what these mothers fear, opening a flood gate and being overwhelmed by the pain. It is a legitimate fear.

At reunion you truly discover what you have lost. Or maybe you just allow yourself to feel the loss in a way you have never felt it before. I think adoptees go through this too particularly when they have been raised to believe they were rescued from a terrible fate only to discover that may not be true. The original fate if it had been allowed to play out, may not have been that bad. In fact, it might, with a little support, been quite good. Might even have been better.

Strangely, it was my son’s father who taught me something about children. When I found my son, his other children were in their late teens. (His son is 10 months younger than my son – but that’s a another post for another day.). My son’s father said to me, “Sometimes, if you let them, children will help you.” I believe that to be true in a general way but I’m not so sure it’s true for parents and children who have been lost to each other through adoption. I think the feelings of abandonment are too strong. And so the dance of hurt begins.

Sadly sometimes the hurt wins.

I’m not sure why I wrote about all of that. It just came out. I was going to write about how last year I had two Mother’s Days, one here the other in Paris France. So I’ll talk a bit about that now.

By happy coincidence my daughter was there for both of them. France celebrates Mother’s Day later in May. Both Mother’s Days were very She came to spend the weekend with us. Wonderful! In Paris, we went to lunch at the rooftop restaurant, Centre Georges Pompidou. It has a magnificent view of the city. I highly recommend it.

Thinking about my two Mother’s Days got me thinking about the whole Mother’s Day – Birth Mother’s Day debate.

Why don’t we change the name of this day? Why don’t we just move that apostrophe. Or get rid of it all together.

Mothers’ Day. Would that solve the problem? No need for the separate but allegedly equal Mother’s Day and birth mother’s day (There are no capitals there on purpose.)

Mothers Day. I kind of like it.

Much wisdom, per usual, over at The Declassified Adoptee on the subject of having two mothers.

Happy Mothers Day to all mothers and their children.

We are going out tomorrow because my daughter had to work today. She works hard I am proud to be her mother. I am proud to be my son’s mother too.

Peace

UM

Two Kinds of Parents

You might think I mean adoptive versus biological but I don’t.

I mean this:

In my experience there are two kinds of parents:

Those who feel honoured and privileged to be parents and those who feel it is the kids who are privileged.

The first group says, “How did I get so lucky as to have this wonderful little person in my life.”

The second group says, “This kid owes me for all the stuff I do/money I spend/things I gave up because of him/her.  I’ve made an investment here and I am waiting for it to pay a dividend.”

That is not a reference to adoptive parents, I see this attitude in biological parents too.

You might think that the first kind are the indulgent parents but in my opinion that is not true. They are the long term thinkers who always have the kids’ interests at heart.  Sometimes that means saying no.  They don’t guilt or manipulate, they love.

They don’t expect perfection.  They know Errare humanus est.  To err is human. 

My daughter used to have a plaque on her wall that I bought when she was a baby.  Remember that I had her after I met my son.  I put it up there as a reminder for myself.  I am sure you’ve heard it before.

It goes something like…

If a child knows love …maybe I will go on line and see if I can find it.

Found it.  Here it is…

If a child lives with criticism,
he learns to condemn.

If a child lives with hostility,
he learns to fight.

If a child lives with fear,
he learns to be apprehensive.

If a child lives with pity,
he learns to feel sorry for himself.

If a child lives with jealousy,
he learns to feel guilty.

If a child lives with encouragement,
he learns to be self-confident.

If a child lives with tolerance,
he learns to be patient.

If a child lives with praise,
he learns to be appreciative.

If a child lives with acceptance,
he learns to love.

If a child lives with approval,
he learns to like himself.

If a child lives with recognition,
he learns to have a goal.

If a child lives with fairness,
he learns what justice is.

If a child lives with honesty,
he learns what truth is.

If a child lives with sincerity,
he learns to have faith in himself and
those around him.

If a child lives with love,
he learns that the world is
a wonderful place to live in.

Author unknown

I love being my daughter’s mother.  I cannot think of a time when I didn’t think she was communicating with me.  (And that was before the current craze of teaching kids sign language.)

I loved the infant, the baby, the toddler, the girl, the teenager and I love the young woman.  Every stage has been great and full of wonder.

I talk to her about adoption.  She understands.  She gets it.  She has been hurt by it too.

Peace

UM

Thanks-Giving Item #4 My Daughter

This is a big reason to give thanks over there to the left. My daughter.

If I had never met my son, I would never have had my daughter. She was born about a year after I met him. If he had been unwilling to meet with me, I don’t think she would be here.

If you had met me back then, before I found him, you would have thought (and of course you wouldn’t have known about him probably) I was a person who didn’t like kids particularly. The thought of being pregnant sent me into a panic. To me, being pregnant was equal to complete loss of any control over my life.

Just a few fears left over from the first pregnancy – I don’t think I realized it then but I think that is what was happening.

Shortly after I met my son, I knew that I could have another baby and it would be OK. He lived with us shortly after she was born and, of course, to her he was just her big brother. Which was great on one hand but on the other hand, I knew someday I would have to tell her the truth, that I had not raised him.  I told her when she was about 5. She was very understanding and gave me a big hug and said she thought she was very lucky.

I feel very lucky to have her too. She’s grown up now, in her 3rd year of university. But in having her I did learn that I knew lots of things about being a mother, I knew them naturally. I was OK.

I will always feel I owe my daughter and the experience of being the kind of mother I never got to be with him – to my son.

Ironic but true.

Peace

UM