Some say I'm quite lucky. A good thing, to be lucky, right? Funny thing is, I've always associated being lucky with winning the lottery or a cruise to some exotic location; not with being a birthmother. Still, lucky is a label that's been thrown my way many times since I became a birthmother five years ago. Why? You see, I've had a fully open adoption with my daughter, Emily, and her family since her placement, and if I had a crisp dollar bill each time I heard "You sure are lucky" or "You should feel lucky" in regards to the openness of my adoption, I'd be a rich woman. Maybe you've heard it too ...or maybe you've uttered the infamous "lucky" word a time or two.

I know not everyone has a situation like mine, nor do I expect them to. "One size fits all" works well for t-shirts, not open adoptions. I am also aware that many did not have a choice for openess at the time they relinquished, and many others made the choice for openness, but were left in a wake of broken promises and broken dreams. Over the years I've cried with many birthmothers who've been told by their child's adoptive parents the adoption was closed, or with those who still wait longly for a promised letter to arrive. I know your pain ...but now, please know mine.

My pain? Am I crazy? I see my child, why should I have pain? Before we go there, let's talk about where some of the problem lies: adoption professionals. Of course, there are many reputable adoption professionals who go above and beyond in informing potential birthparents about open adoption. Sadly, however, there are many others who use open adoption to "sell" adoption to prospective birthparents. Acting as if it is the openness of the adoption that acts as a band aid for the grief that follows relinquishment, some adoption professionals have the underlying (or outright) attitude that if you see your child, you won't hurt as much. I'm letting the cat out of the bag ...there is still hurt, plenty of it. My message to the considering mothers and fathers who are reading this: openness will not heal your grief in itself. There are some times when openness can seem to add to it.

Right about now, many birthparents with open adoptions are nodding their heads in understanding of my message. And there are probably many other birthparents who are a bit confused ...after all, isn't being lucky a good thing? Depends. Like I said above, I love being lucky when I'm playing the lottery, but when it comes to my birth-motherhood, there is no room for luck. I'm stepping out to say yes, I see my child, but I still hurt. I still cry. I still have my bad days. You see, I may still be in my child's life, but I am not her mommy, nor her parent. Just like a birthmother with a completely closed adoption, I'm not my child's caregiver, or co-parent. I am her birthmother. No matter how open an adoption may be, birthmothers are not their children's "mommies" and we must grieve that. And when someone, whether stranger or fellow birthmom, tells me I should feel lucky that I even see my child, what kind of message do you think that sends? Guilt. A whole load of it.

I used to believe that pain in adoption (after the first few years) was reserved only for those with closed up adoptions. Not so. In truth, it's the separation from our children that causes the hurt and pain. No matter how open the adoption is, you still are not 'mommy', and that will always cut deep, down the the softest tissue of the heart.

I love what birthmother and author, Brenda Romanchik, says in her pocket guide, Being a Birthparent: Finding our Place, "One woman, a birthmother in a closed adoption, told me that open adoption is all having all the joy of being a parent and none of the work. Birthparents themselves often buy into this kind of attitude, feeling guilty for the grief they feel....Rarely are they told that, realistically, visits can be difficult."

How many times have you told another birthmother, perhaps in your local support group or on an online support forum, that you were disappointed with some aspect of your adoption only to be met with a chorus of "I'd give anything to have a picture of my child!" or "at least you see him!" Suddenly you realize that A.) You shouldn't have said anything because you certainly do not want to hurt anyone else. B.) You shouldn't have said anything because you feel like an ungrateful idiot and now you feel worse.

Let's say the parents of a birthmom's child are now sending less pictures and more robotic-type letters, and she's a bit hurt over this. Others understand, but many call her lucky, and what falls between the cracks is the hurt and grief she feel as an open adoption birthmom. Really, if you peel back a layer or two, she's afraid that this is the first in a line of more let downs from the adoptive parents, and just wishes someone would validate her hurt. Dejected, she wallows in guilt knowing things could be worse, so what right does she have to hurt? Plenty.

I've been the support moderator/member of many forums in the past five years, and I know I've often held back in sharing the ups and downs of my openness. My aching over hearing my daughter call her adoptive mother "mommy" for the first time turns into mere bellyaching, rather than a ache that longs to be heard, validated, and supported. Truth is, I have the right to grieve just as much as any other birthparent.

Another reason I hate the term "lucky" when it comes to relinquishment is because "luck" had little to do with any of it. I am not lucky that I chose adoptive parents who have kept their promises, just as another birthmother is not unlucky that she chose adoptive parents who broke their promises for open contact. Just as I had free choosing, so do the adoptive parents of our children. My daughter's adoptive parents have made the choice to be truthful to their word, as do others. Some adoptive parents, for one reason or another, chose to break their promises. We need to keep people accountable for their choices, and calling it "luck" gives some people an out, or a loop hole. Plain and simple: adoption is the product of choices, not luck.

Am I being too hard on those who've called another birthmom "lucky"? No, my intention is not to build any walls between birthmothers, but to hope to bridge a gap perpetuated by misunderstandings and covered-up hurts. Covered-up hurts? Yes, I believe those who call another birthmom lucky are hurting too. I feel strongly that calling another birthmom lucky comes out of a longing and grief over the reality of their adoption situation. They don't mean to be hurtful ...it hurts to hear what others have and they do not, especially when it comes to our children. I know many birthmoms who'd give anything just for a picture of their precious child, and I am not trying to minimize a very real pain. However, pain is pain--one person's pain shouldn't be discarded because it seems to pale in comparison to another's.

When it comes down to it, I don't feel lucky. I may feel like crying. I may feel angry. I may even feel okay. In all my varied emotions what you will not found intertwined is the feeling of luck. As birthmoms, our grief is different, but it is still grief. Grief knows no name or face, and grief favors no amount of openness or lack thereof. I know my child, but I still know grief. I know the joy of knowing her, but don't forget, in my knowledge comes the sting of knowing exactly what I am missing.


 

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