I was prepared. I was ready for
everything that I have encountered in the last several years, from my
placement, to my wedding, to my pregnancy after my placement. I
researched, I reflected, I weighed the pros versus the. cons in every decision
that I made. I knew that I would be sad, and I knew that I would
feel fulfilled, and I knew that in the end I would have happiness.
Until I wasn't
The hard thing about life
is that no matter how ready you think you are for something, reality
smacks you in the face. This reality came to me after my youngest
child was born. My husband and I had planned her from the beginning. She had a beautiful room in the house that we had purchased, our
families were ecstatic, and I could hardly wait to finally have a
baby that I would be able to bring home. The weeks flew (OK, they
dragged) by and before we knew it we were at the hospital getting
ready to have a baby.
My enthusiasm gave way to
exhaustion somewhere around hour 17 of a 24 hour labor, but when it
came time to deliver my daughter, I was able to complete the task.
We were elated and completely in love. Life was wonderful.
Until it wasn't.
hours after her birth nurses discovered that my daughter wasn't doing
as well as we had thought. This led to an emergency ambulance
transport, a NICU stay, and me leaving the hospital with empty arms,
think this is where it started for me, the anxiety. It got worse
when my daughter got home. All I could think about was losing her.
I was overwhelmed by a crippling fear of something terrible
happening and losing my motherhood all over again. I would hardly
sleep, spending my nights watching over her, making sure that she
never missed a breath. When my daughter would cry, I would tremble,
clenching my hands, and pacing through the room. I would do my best
to please her as quickly as possible, but at times it just seemed
impossible. I would find myself in the middle of a room, crying,
hyperventilating, knowing what to do, but being unable to do it.
realized that I had a problem when I quit leaving my house. I would
take my baby to the grocery store when it was absolutely necessary,
and I found myself wrapping her tightly to my chest in a baby
carrier, never willing to risk a disaster, regardless of how small
the gamble was. I was on constant alert, viewing the world as one
dangerous situation after another.
a particularly rough week, I made an appointment with a psychologist.
When I left my first meeting with her, I brought something with me;
a diagnosis of PTSD(Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).
I was shocked. I have never been to war, I have never seen death, I
have never been a victim of sexual assault, I don't fit the mold of
someone who would suffer from PTSD. At least that's what I thought
until she told me that many birth mothers suffer from this, usually
after it is triggered by a life event (like the birth of a child). I
have an incredible open adoption, and I have never once regretted my
decision. However, the experience of placing a child was most
definitely a trauma and I've come to see that it will continue to
influence me for the duration of my life.
great news is that PTSD is can be treated quite effectively with talk
therapy. During my sessions (and outside of them), I worked hard
with my therapist to rewire the way that my brain perceived things.
It was difficult and it took a lot of work, but as time went by I
became more outgoing and less fearful. After “graduating” from
counseling I have been able to resume all of my previous activities.
I enjoy going out to places and no longer view the world as one
enormous accident waiting to happen.
guess that what I'm trying to say by sharing this, is that if you
ever are feeling like I felt, it is not your fault. It doesn't mean
that you made the wrong choice by choosing adoption and it certainly
doesn't mean that you did something faulty. I worry that other birth
moms feel the way that I felt and don't get the help that they need.
Adoption can be a wonderful thing for some, but it is also overwhelmingly
difficult, and there is no shame in needing help, no matter how long
ago your placement was. I received counseling for PTSD over 3 years
after my adoption. I had no signs prior to the birth of my youngest
child. I was secure in my decision, and happy with my life. I had
everything going for me, and was ready for anything that life was
going to throw at me.
Until I wasn't.
adoption affected you in ways that you never anticipated? What are
they, and how have you been able to work through them?
I gave birth to Noah on November 23, 2014 at 11:10 p.m. I was 23 so I was not too young, but I hadn't fully accepted the fact that I pregnant. Although I was 23, I was still sheltered growing up so I never thought something like this would happen to me unless I was ready. Let me back that up with saying that having Noah is the best thing I have ever done, but I wish I was under different circumstances when I had him. My mom was in critical condition in the hospital for 2 months while I was pregnant, then was in the hospital for another 2 months learning how to walk again, so my mind was elsewhere and I didn't have much time to really soak in the idea that I was going to be having a baby boy in just a couple months. Because Noah was such a chub, we ended up scheduling for me to be induced at 40 weeks with pitocin. I asked my dad not to be in the room because I didn't want him to see me in labor. My dad was so supportive throughout my pregnancy and the decision of adoption, but I knew that I had disappointed him getting pregnant before being married. I love my dad but I didn't want him to see the vulnerability of me going through the process of pushing my baby out. Honestly, I even had my mom leave the room when I began having contractions because I just wanted to be alone. At this point, I wasn't sad, mad, or anything really. I was numb because I did not take the time to truly bond with my sweet boy while I was pregnant. I had mapped out a perfect plan previous to him being born so that I would not be on the same floor as him because I knew it would be too difficult. I went all routes to ensure I would not feel pain (what did I know?). I spent all day on the 23rd watching Netflix and sneaking in some goldfish. I couldn't help it! How did they expect a hormonal pregnant woman to not eat for THAT long?! Haha. Around me being 4 cm dilated, I gave it up and got the epidural. By the way...best invention ever. Not long after, they measured me and I was dilated 6 inches. Things were going well! Unfortunately, I didn't dilate much after 5 hours so my OBGYN recommended a C section. While this was all going in, the A parents were on their way in from out of town (going through a tornado on the way...stressful much?). They actually got into the hospital 10 minutes before I was rolled into the surgery room. I know they were so scared and nervous! I had told my mom going in that her job was the photographer and not to worry about me. I wanted to make sure that the adoptive parents had a ton of photos to look at and felt like they were there. I would have allowed the A mom into the delivery room if they allowed two, but unfortunately most hospitals only allow one..and I needed my mom. So I won't give you all the details of the C section besides me having a minor anxiety attack before Noah was born. I was just so scared and nervous with all these doctors hovering over me and just wanted to make sure Noah was going to be okay. So at 11:10, Noah was born!! He didn't cry immediately...10 hours later (20 seconds) he finally cried! Sweetest sound I had ever heard. My mom brought him over but I told her I didn't want to see him yet because I was drifting in and out (I think the sedation had me going in and out of consciousness). I wanted to remember that precious moment forever. Five long minutes later, my mom brought him over and we looked at each other for the first time. He was stretching those lungs but when my mom brought him over and he touched my chest, he stopped crying completely and smiled. Never have I felt love like that!! He is and forever will be the light of my life.
Lots of Love,
Erin **Next week comes part 2: The Hospital Experience (After Labor)**
When Noah and I first locked eyes (To this day I have never felt love like that)
I found out a couple months ago that Noah's birthfather was going to have another child with his girlfriend. My thoughts? Shock, anger, curiosity, and most of all...I feel helpless. I do not even know if his girlfriend knows about Noah. Will their child grow up not knowing that she has a half sibling just 1 state away?
These unanswered questions are so tough. I cope with them by not allowing myself to get to involved mentally. I did tell the A-parents, only because I wanted Noah to know if he ever asked them. I still don't know if I should send them a picture when she (its a girl) is born. The birthfather has no relationship with the A -parents so I feel like my role is the messenger...which is not okay.
Adoption is a complicated, beautiful, sad, joyous thing. There are two sides. Each side includes all of these emotions. I hope Noah grows up and eventually has a relationship with his half siblings (both on mine and the birthfather's side). I have to accept that I can only do so much, which is a very hard thing to accept because I love my son more than I thought I could love anyone or anything.
Ending with a fun fact...I found out that our sweet baby's fingerprints were created by them tapping (or hitting) our wombs while we were pregnant. How cool is that?!
It's a Saturday morning. I stand quietly at the window holding my daughter while we watch her sister play in the freshly fallen snow. My husband is by the door, piling on winter gear as he prepares to snow blow the driveway for the fourth time this week. To a passerby we look like we are living the American Dream. They don't know that we're different, and honestly, even I sometimes forget.
Most people hold all of their
children, and kiss them all goodnight. The majority of Moms see
their kids off to their first day of school, & most people don't
cry in the toy aisle at Christmas time because they don't even know
what their child likes (I'm guilty of this, I'll admit it). I
suppose, you could say that makes us different.
Most children have to worry about
their siblings taking their toys from their room and borrowing their
clothes. “Normal” sisters get to share secrets in the darkness,
long after their parents have gone to bed. Most 7 year old's don't
have to wonder who they should add to their family tree for their
school project. I guess some people would say that makes my children
When looking at life as a birthmom, it
can be really easy to see ways that we are different. In the past, I
have often struggled with the differences, wondering if I sacrificed
my normalcy the same time I placed my child. In a way, I guess you
could say I did.
If you looked at everyone closely
though, I mean really looked, wouldn't we all be
different? Doesn't everyone have something in their lives that makes
them stand out from the crowd? Whether that has to do with their
lifestyle choices, their careers, past mistakes, or their current
relationships, I think deep inside, there's no such thing as
So, this year, instead of focusing on
the things that make us different, I'm going to focus on the things
that make us just as “normal” as every other family. We all have
people that we love, jobs that we go to, pets to take care of, and
driveways to snow blow. We all have walked paths that have changed
us completely, and we all have had struggles, no matter what the
kind. What are some other ways that we are all the same, and what
are some other things that you think make us unique?
As the new year begins, we once again look at our lives and our new year and try to make it better than the year that came before. Often that means looking at our lives and deciding what needs to be changed. For me, that's going to include attempting to come to terms with certain parts of myself.
If you're wondering why this launch into self-discovery, it's because I've found out that my son has inherited some of my qualities and conditions I'd rather he hadn't. Thus far, he has shown signs of anxiety and problems with sensory overload. My father had these problems as did I. My son's adoptive parents are getting him an occupational therapist and getting him the help and care that my father and I never got. For that, I am glad.
I wasn't sure why the school suggested they get him a therapist at first. After all, my father and I had gotten along just fine without one. But looking back I realize that both I and my father could have benefitted from help like that. This past year has proven to me unequivocally that I am not done learning how to handle my problems. And I think that finally addressing them now will help me help my son's adoptive parents and my son as well.
I've already formed a plan and will be putting that into action soon. I won't lie and say I'm looking forward to this. Examining one's self is often a painful and frightening expedition. But I have been down this road before. And as this will help my son, I'm determined to go through with this.
I hope you are all having a good day and stay safe!
My name is Amber, and I am so excited to be a new blogger for the
BirthMom Buds Blog! I am a stay at home mom, an awesome wife, a
mediocre cook, and an enthusiastic student! My husband and I are
living the American Dream in the suburbs with our two kids and our
favorite senior citizen, our dog Sadie. I feel passionately about
adoption, and am ready to bring you some awesome reading material. But first, let's start with my adoption story!
In 2010, I was 20
and pregnant with my second child. I had recently ended a
relationship with my kids’ Dad, which had been plagued by abuse.
While trying to heal from that, I was working part time in a
restaurant, going to college, and battling to not only pay my bills,
but also raise my two year old with no help from her father. I first
visited an adoption agency when I was 14 weeks into my pregnancy. In
December of 2010, I began looking at profiles of couples waiting to
adopt. In total, I believe I may have saw nine of them. From there, I
was able to narrow my daughter’s parents down to two couples. I
brought these books home and examined every inch of their profiles.
Choosing someone that you trust enough to raise your child, based on
photo’s in a book is NOT an easy task! Finally though, I did it.
We met in January of 2011 and I hit it off with my daughters family
immediately. I felt like I had known them for years even though it
has only been minutes.
March 23rd, I had my beautiful daughter. Her adoptive Mom was in the
delivery room, cut the umbilical cord, and was a great support. I
left the hospital 24 hours after giving birth which was, without a
doubt, the hardest thing I have ever done. I remember getting home
from the hospital and feeling like the biggest failure. I felt like I
had abandoned my daughter, and all I could picture was my infant
laying in the nursery crying, with no one to take care of her (even
though I knew that wasn’t the case). Needless to say, I didn’t
sleep that first night. Or the second night.
the nights passed though, things got easier. I continued my
counseling, and I focused on being the best Mom I could be for my
daughter. I saw my birth daughter once a week for a while, then once
every two weeks, and now we get together as much as possible My
birth daughter is growing up in a wonderful home, with wonderful
people, and a wonderful extended family…and I am at peace with
I have a great relationship with Noah's A-mom. However, that doesn't mean I am always comfortable and don't say "what if" every now and then. Noah is with her, not me. She has the control.
She is God's gift to both myself and Noah but I re-read texts I send her and spend hours searching for the "perfect Christmas gift/Mothers Day gift" for her. I have thought about why I do this and I believe it is because sometimes I am looking for confirmation that she does approve of my existence in Noah's life. Not only that, but I want to have a great, healthy relationship with her.
Have you ever felt you had to get confirmation that you ARE good enough? I think it's so important for us all to remember that we are. We did what we thought was best for our babies at that time, and that decision gained me not only a son, but a second family.
I wrote two letters when Noah was born, one to him and one to myself. I knew I was going to be struggling and wanted to have a letter to read to reaffirm why I made the decision I did. Lets face it, hormones after birth...yeah. This letter contained every reason I made the decision I did and it was one of the best decisions I have made. However, this "walking on eggshells" habit is something I need to break. I AM GOOD ENOUGH. I did not make the decision to place him because I didn't think I would be a good mom, I made it because he wouldn't have an active father. These little things are worth remembering.
I just wanted to take a minute and reflect on this year. I am sure you have heard of the milestones or goals that your loved ones have reached. But what about the milestones YOU reached?
I remember when I first found out I was pregnant, it was in a CVS bathroom with my best friend. Classy, I know! I was in serious denial for a long time. So much so that I literally forgot I was pregnant for two months (even though I was taking prenatal vitamins). I just never thought about it. When I finally started showing and feeling the precious kicks and turns, I realized that I was going to be placing this baby for adoption soon. The adoption agency I went to recommended a therapist for me to see who was also a birth mom. I thought, "why not?" I had never been to therapy before and went in not expecting to get much out of it.
Little did I know, this woman was about to change my life. In my first session with her, she mostly listened. I told her I wasn't going to see or hold my baby once he/she was born, I wasn't looking at ultrasounds, and I was going to have a closed adoption. Basically, I had not accepted this baby's existence at all yet and never wanted to. She was very gentle in asking my reasons and quickly identified that I needed some perspective on what was to come in my future if these were the decisions I stuck with. After opening my heart and mind to what she had to say (and after 6 sessions with her), I ended up asking for a legalized open adoption, seeing my baby boy when he was born and doing skin to skin, and still sticking with not looking at the ultrasounds.
It is hard to open yourself up to a stranger in therapy. However, I would recommend it to anyone going through this process, and also to someone who has placed their child already. It doesn't even have to be therapy! It can be a best friend or a sibling. It is very important to have a support system that you can vent to. I can only speak on my behalf, but I know talking to someone who could relate to my situation helped tremendously. Going to therapy helped improve my postpartum depression and continued my grieving process. I was very worried I was going to be in a state of shock for a long time but talking to someone allows me to identify the emotions I am feeling and get those out instead of not feeling at all. There are many birthmother support groups/sites (such as this one) as well as retreats and in person support groups that are fantastic in the grieving process. I know that this is a roller coaster but we are in this together. You are not alone! Lots of Love, Erin
We want to take just a minute to wish you and yours a happy, safe, and peaceful Christmas season! As birthmoms, we are all aware of how tough this time of year can be so please remember to be kind to yourselves and realize it's okay to reach out for support! If you need to talk, don't hesitate to reach out to us at 1-855-4mybbud.
You are in our thoughts and prayers, today and always.
I'm Erin and I'm excited to be one of the new bloggers here at BirthMom Buds!
I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would be a birthmother. I saw women placing their child on television and never once took the perspective of the woman who carried their chid for nine months then placed their baby girl/boy into the hands of a hopeful couple. I like to think I am great at placing myself in other's shoes and taking perspective on situations, but I think the media had shaped me to think more about the adoptee and adoptive parents because no one really talks about birthmothers. I became a birthmother on November 23, 2015 in Atlanta, Georgia and this past year has been the most beautiful, painful year of my life. My son is my greatest accomplishment and I am so proud to be a part of his life. After graduating with my Master's Degree in Elementary Education, I placed my son for adoption. This year I not only gained a son but also his parents who I consider family. You may ask, "Why would you place after graduating with a degree?" Well, I wanted him to grow up with an active father. I did not want to take his innocence by having him see a stressed out single mother trying to make ends meet or a horrible custody battle between two people who live in different states. He now has a mom and a dad in the same house who he can run to in the middle of the night if he has a bad dream, he has a dad who will coach him in all the sports he will play, and he is able to grow up knowing what true love looks like.
I do have days where I question my decision, but I think that is normal in this case. I love Noah (my son) more than anything and that will never change. I have a healthy open adoption in which I get an update each month and two visits a year. When I was pregnant, I made sure to build a strong relationship with his adoptive mom, which was easy because we would literally be best friends if we were the same age haha! She is God's gift to both Noah and me and I am so happy I chose her to be Noah's mama.
As of today, I am a 5th grade ELA teacher in Georgia and love what I do. I have good days and bad days. I am lucky because I know where my son is and how he is doing. I am thankful every day for this gift and I look forward to sharing the up's and down's of this crazy roller coaster with you from here on out.
Hello! It's been a while since I've posted and I hope all of you are doing well. Christmas is upon us once again, and I'm sure many of you are like me and face the holiday season with a whole mix of feelings.
There is always the joy of seeing family and celebrating the holiday. That usually involves good people, good food, good conversation, and an exchange of (hopefully) thoughtful presents. I wish that I could be celebrating the holiday with my son as well as the rest of my family. But I am also secure in the knowledge that he is having a good time with his family. And that thought does make me happy.
Then there is the love that we hopefully all have when we come together during the holidays. Of course, with family coming together there are always the questions: how is your life going? What are your plans? While my extended family is often not involved in our Christmas celebrations (due to living in two different states) we do see a number of friends. Often those friends know about my son, and they will ask, I smile and tell them that he's doing well. I then pull out my cell phone to show them the most recent picture I have of him. I tell them that he's doing well. He's in school, although it's been a challenge for him. And his parents are managing it all quite well. Better than I would have anyway.
And also there is the peace that comes with this time of year. Every Christmas I try to come to a peace within myself regarding what I've done, where I've been, where I'm going, and what I must do. It doesn't always work, but most times it does. This year, I plan to make a pilgrimage out to the monastery near where my parents live. It's always a very quiet and meditative place to go for me. And I have always liked the fact that the chapel is always open with a sign inviting everyone to come in for a quiet moment. Everyone is welcome, no matter where you have been or what your story is.
For me this season is not without sadness. I miss my son. I miss many people. And I often have Christmas wishes that I know will never come true. But it doesn't really matter that they won't. I love my son. I love those who have passed. And somehow or another I feel they are always with me at Christmas and throughout the year.
I hope this finds all of you well. I hope you enjoy the holiday season how ever you celebrate it. I hope that you are surrounded by people who love and care about you this year, no matter who they are. And I will be posting again soon.