Last November I told you I am a birthmother. There is much of the story I didn’t tell you. So many layers. So many details.
I didn’t give birth in my home state. When I look back I think that was a good thing. I can’t really explain it but the world changed for me after I left the hospital, after saying my good byes. The state I gave birth in though only had closed adoption laws [at the time, don't know about now]. What that basically does, besides no contact with the adopting family, is not allow my daughter or I to ever know each other’s identity. I have no idea what her last name is and she may never know mine. While the state does have an adoption registry it still makes it tough to ever find each other if we want to.
The adoption agency I went through though allows an option of semi-open. This means that pictures and letters can be exchanged through the agency. I choose this option. I wanted to know that I had done the right thing, I wanted some piece of mind that my daughter was loved and cared for. It made me feel like I was doing something right, by making sure she was ok.
I cherished those first photos I received. I sobbed reading the letter and seeing her beautiful face once again. It was such a bittersweet thing. So many pictures of her with her grandparents, aunt, uncles, cousins, so much family that loved her. The first year pictures come often, every few months because of how quickly babies grow and change. Eventually the pictures slow down to once a year, around their birthdays. I haunted my mail box in the Fall.
Eventually the photos and letters stopped coming. I knew this was a risk I took. The closed adoption papers state that any contract between the birthmother and family is null and void if it is non compliant with state law. So if the family wants to stop writing letters and sending pictures, I have no say in the matter.
A part of me felt this was going to happen. That I would just become unimportant. While it broke my heart, I accepted it. I had no control over it. I trusted that the parents I picked were still doing an amazing job.
When my mom came to visit me a while ago she brought my mail that still comes to her doors. It was a lone letter. Flat and thin I didn’t recognize the return address. I had no idea what I was about to read.
It was the adoption agency. The have letters and pictures waiting for me. They had been trying to contact me but since all the numbers had changed, as well as my email, they had no idea if I still lived at the address. It was a shock to my system. I had come to terms with never seeing another photo or reading another letter.
I had no idea how to respond to this letter. It took me time. Knowing that the family still cared about my feelings, that I could see my daughter’s face, know her favorite toys and food. That the window to her world and life was open again was amazing and I was almost afraid to look through. The thought of a picture of her smiling face, seeing the joy in her eyes, and the love of her parents brought joy to my heart.
I made the call, I gave them my new address and number. I anxiously haunt my mail box.
Know this – that even if letters and pictures slow down significantly, you will NEVER be unimportant to your daughter's adoptive parents.
It's just… not possible.
(I got teary when I read that you had mail waiting for you. That is awesome.)
I am praying with you… and for you. be strong!
Wow, Tara. I had no idea. That is great that you have pictures and stuff waiting for you. *hugs*
Thank you so much for sharing this. I hope your letters arrive soon.
Tara! I'm so excited for you.
You and I have talked before about my adoption in the 70s, and that is was closed- please know that as much as it pleases you to get pictures and letters, there will come a time it will be so lovely for your daughter to know that line exists, as well.
That was my number one concern about my adoption growing up, that my birth mother didn't know if I was OK. It haunted me. I hated my birthday, as I pictured her alone somewhere. I later found out that she always went to a diner alone and had a piece of cake on that day, in celebration and mourning. Although her later children knew I existed, she chose to not share that day.
Now, she's known for 8 years exactly where I am and how to call me.: ) And I adore both of my moms with all my heart. Hugs, sweetie!
Oh my, I'm so excited for you!
Wow, I know it must be bittersweet to have this connection. I am glad that you are able to maintain it.
Tara -
I met you briefly at Blogher last year, and you shared a bit of your story with me. I'm an adoptive mother with two adopted sons, who I adore and I'm pretty sure we're taking good care of them
I have not been so good at sending the pictures and letters to one of my son's birth families lately. It is a semi-closed adoption – so there is no convenient email contact like I have with my other son's birth family. This was not our choice, but the birth parent's choice.
I have been feeling a lot of guilt about that, and you've spurred me on to get someting in the mail soon.
I know it's not a good excuse, but life gets busy when you're raising kids, as you know.
As I told a friend the other day, I am fairly certain my boys will have their own relationship with their birth families. There is a connection there that cannot and should not be denied. I hope that for you as well. Times are different than they were, which is why I was kind of surprised when you said that the state you gave birth in only did closed adoptions. That seems CRAZY!
In any case, I hope you are having fun at Blogher. I am EXTREMLY envious, but couldn't pull it together this year. Next year! I'm still trying to get my blog going!
But first, a letter to Cindy with pictures of her gorgeous big boy (he's 7 now!)
Thank you for sharing!