From Mother to Birth Parent
Usually, transition evolves smoothly. You steadily move from one phase of your life into the next. Transitioning from a mother for nine months into an instant birth parent doesn't work quite so seamlessly.
I fought the first 5 months of my pregnancy to be able to raise my daughter myself. It just didn't seem meant to be. After being abandoned by her father and my parents- I had to consider adoption. I kept it on the backburner- just as last resort. Surely, "M" (her father) would come around, or my parents would find the compassion to see how hard I was working to make it happen. By my 6th month though- "M" found ways to avoid me at all costs. The one who had once been a great friend- made sure he wasn't easy to reach. Promises to come to doctor's visits and to see ultrasounds were always broken.
My mom, of course, was very eager about adoption. She made sure that she tagged along when I went to visit a counselor about my options. All the while, I'm fighting adoption in my head, it was being pushed down my throat. Yes, there is a lot of resentment towards my parents. Especially, in retrospect, when I think of things that were said and done. Now that I'm older and have my own household. How could they have mislead me the way they did?
I think I finally conceded around the end of my 6th month. I remember looking at adoptive parent profiles and feeling completely numb. What the hell was I doing? I'm picking out a family for my daughter? I come from a middle-class family. We weren't poor people. We were churchgoers. I was healthy as a horse, a hard-worker, a smart kid. Why were my parents not getting this? I would never be the daughter that is living with her parents 10 years later, going out while my parents babysit, acting like I'm still a teenager. All I needed from them was support and encouragement- was that too much to ask of the duties of parenthood? All I needed was help with a gameplan and I would follow through. I always did. I've never been one to give up. My life after adoption proves that- I bought my own home barely after turning 24- I'm back in school now for a second degree. For 4 years of my life I've worked 2 jobs at the same time. I have a Roth IRA. How much more of a responsible person could I be?
I lapsed into a fog around that time. I think I was in a fog for the next 6 years of my life. Just going through the motions. Taking the next logical step. Working, going to school, anything to occupy my mind and my time.
My mom actually picked out my daughter's parents. They happened to be 3,000 miles away. With all honesty- I think they are wonderful people. But for many years- I would tell people that I was happy about the outcome. I was so numb when she showed me the profile- I probably would have agreed with anyone or anything. I can remember for years after- telling people that I was happy that my daughter is where she is. To some degree- that is true. I think the world of her parents. They are life loving people and they can afford to indulge her in the hobbies I would never have been able to- at least for a number of years. I hold no grudges against them- I don't ever want to misrepresent that I hold bitterness towards them.
I think I had conceded in my mind- that I had no other option. So instead of fighting the idea- I better find a way to emotionally and psychologically accept the idea. For the last 3 months of my pregnancy- I had to brainwash myself about the positive aspects of adoption. All along- still keeping the hope alive that God would intervene somehow- changing "M"s heart- or even my parents'. I remember going for a job interview with the County- which could have really given me some leverage. But at 6 months- its a bit hard to hide the bulge in your belly- especially having a 9 pound baby.
My beautiful little girl was born on a cold February morning. I had been in labor for three days. I would keep her in the room with me until the next day when my social worker would come to get her. I didn't sleep. I held her the entire time. Looked her body over, tried to remember every fold of skin. I baptized her, prayed for her, cried for her. I cried for myself. This was the end of the road. I wouldn't have her in my belly to talk to at night. I would never feel her inside of me again. Tomorrow was sure to come. Tomorrow, the Katie I was would die a little. The Katie I am would be born.
I fought the first 5 months of my pregnancy to be able to raise my daughter myself. It just didn't seem meant to be. After being abandoned by her father and my parents- I had to consider adoption. I kept it on the backburner- just as last resort. Surely, "M" (her father) would come around, or my parents would find the compassion to see how hard I was working to make it happen. By my 6th month though- "M" found ways to avoid me at all costs. The one who had once been a great friend- made sure he wasn't easy to reach. Promises to come to doctor's visits and to see ultrasounds were always broken.
My mom, of course, was very eager about adoption. She made sure that she tagged along when I went to visit a counselor about my options. All the while, I'm fighting adoption in my head, it was being pushed down my throat. Yes, there is a lot of resentment towards my parents. Especially, in retrospect, when I think of things that were said and done. Now that I'm older and have my own household. How could they have mislead me the way they did?
I think I finally conceded around the end of my 6th month. I remember looking at adoptive parent profiles and feeling completely numb. What the hell was I doing? I'm picking out a family for my daughter? I come from a middle-class family. We weren't poor people. We were churchgoers. I was healthy as a horse, a hard-worker, a smart kid. Why were my parents not getting this? I would never be the daughter that is living with her parents 10 years later, going out while my parents babysit, acting like I'm still a teenager. All I needed from them was support and encouragement- was that too much to ask of the duties of parenthood? All I needed was help with a gameplan and I would follow through. I always did. I've never been one to give up. My life after adoption proves that- I bought my own home barely after turning 24- I'm back in school now for a second degree. For 4 years of my life I've worked 2 jobs at the same time. I have a Roth IRA. How much more of a responsible person could I be?
I lapsed into a fog around that time. I think I was in a fog for the next 6 years of my life. Just going through the motions. Taking the next logical step. Working, going to school, anything to occupy my mind and my time.
My mom actually picked out my daughter's parents. They happened to be 3,000 miles away. With all honesty- I think they are wonderful people. But for many years- I would tell people that I was happy about the outcome. I was so numb when she showed me the profile- I probably would have agreed with anyone or anything. I can remember for years after- telling people that I was happy that my daughter is where she is. To some degree- that is true. I think the world of her parents. They are life loving people and they can afford to indulge her in the hobbies I would never have been able to- at least for a number of years. I hold no grudges against them- I don't ever want to misrepresent that I hold bitterness towards them.
I think I had conceded in my mind- that I had no other option. So instead of fighting the idea- I better find a way to emotionally and psychologically accept the idea. For the last 3 months of my pregnancy- I had to brainwash myself about the positive aspects of adoption. All along- still keeping the hope alive that God would intervene somehow- changing "M"s heart- or even my parents'. I remember going for a job interview with the County- which could have really given me some leverage. But at 6 months- its a bit hard to hide the bulge in your belly- especially having a 9 pound baby.
My beautiful little girl was born on a cold February morning. I had been in labor for three days. I would keep her in the room with me until the next day when my social worker would come to get her. I didn't sleep. I held her the entire time. Looked her body over, tried to remember every fold of skin. I baptized her, prayed for her, cried for her. I cried for myself. This was the end of the road. I wouldn't have her in my belly to talk to at night. I would never feel her inside of me again. Tomorrow was sure to come. Tomorrow, the Katie I was would die a little. The Katie I am would be born.
posted by bobby @ 1:55 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home