Monday, April 5, 2010

And Then Comes Anger

So many want to discount anger. They want to claim it’s wrong to feel, that it somehow holds us back, inhibits us.

But sometimes, anger is good. Sometimes it’s justified. And sometimes there really is just no other way to feel, which is exactly where I am after reading those last two entries I shared in my previous post, Dear Diary.

There really is no other way to feel, for me, other than anger after reading what I wrote so many years ago.

I had not remembered that I kept any kind of written memories from that time in my life. As I have said before, I was so numb, as if I wasn’t even really there, during my pregnancy. I couldn’t feel, couldn’t think. I just simply survived.

And after giving up my son, my memory is of such pain and such feelings of unworthiness as his mother that I again walked around in this cloud of not really being there as a part of my life, but simply going through the steps, surviving day after day.

So, in the times I look back on that time, I never thought I had actually taken the time to write down how I was feeling, what I was going through since I struggled so much to even understand it myself.

And, I really didn’t write much of anything during that time. My diary I found was full of entries from almost two years prior to giving up my son but there is so very little from my pregnancy, from the actual loss.

Just one entry a few weeks before giving birth and the two I shared after giving up my oldest son. That is all I ever wrote. All I could write during that time in my life.

And yet, with those last two entries, that was all that was needed to bring forth such a tremendous anger.

Because those who I trusted, who I believed in, who said they were there for me, were the very ones who pulled their games, used their tricks, knowing . . . . KNOWING . . . that the very feelings I suffered from, struggled with, were the exact ones they hoped for so that I would feel I had no choice but to give away my son.

The bastards! Every one of them!

I read those words and remember that pain and I wonder . . . how could they? How could they knowingly put me through that simply because they wanted my baby for that other couple. How could anyone set out to create those kind of heart wrenching feelings for another human being?

They lied to me. They cheated me. They created a false trust that was created in pure bullshit.

And they didn’t give a damn about it or about me, or about my son.

They cared about their research, their study, and their known tactics to insure, in every way they could, that I would walk away from the hospital without my son.

The fact that it killed me to do so. That I spent night after night crying, wanting my son back, wishing I could just hold him, be his mother and love and care for him as I was supposed to do, didn’t mean crap to them. Because they always knew! They knew long before I did that encouraging a relationship with my son’s adoptive parents before I ever gave birth would tip the odds in their favor that I would give up my child.

They knew the risk of what it would be like holding my son in my arms for the first time and knowing the love unlike any other and they used their power to combat against that. To make sure I went home to write about the pain and loss tearing through me while his adoptive parents went home with my son.

And there I was, on that day I gave up my son, home without him, believing that it was okay, made it better, that I gave away my child to a couple who couldn’t have one of their own.

How wrong is that? That wasn’t my job, my responsibility. I wanted my son. I wanted to take him home with me. But I didn’t because those I trusted, believed in, did all they could to lead me into that disgusting train of thought. And I followed it to the point where I placed my son in the arms of his adoptive mother because I couldn’t bare to hurt her without stopping to think how terribly I was hurting myself, my son, his father, his grandparents . . . so many others who should have come long before this woman I had only known for a few, short months and was only building a relationship with me because she wanted my child.

Back then I thought those who I trusted, who helped me “decide” what was best for my son never could have known just how desperately I wanted to keep my son and how bad it hurt me to give him away. I believed that they told me the truth, that every word they said was done because they were concerned about me, my baby.

And yet now, I read that and I know, from their own words, that those feelings, that pain and loss was exactly what they wanted. They didn’t give a damn. They sent me home knowing, and counting on those feelings. They wanted me to hurt like that because it meant I would still walk away from my child.

Those bastards knew! They knew what I might feel and they did everything they could to make sure such feelings did not change my mind.

And I hate it. I hate every part of it.

How do we support this? How do we say this is okay?

It is so wrong. So terrible that we still do this to pregnant women, day after day.

Why?

I can never imagine the loss infertility creates and I will never discount the affect it has but is that reason enough to put another woman through such a tremendous loss. How can anyone believe that it’s okay to let another woman suffer the loss of a child so that they can gain?

This has to stop! It just plain and simply has to stop!

Such a practice that tells moms they are no good and encourages them to give up their babies is one that should be banned and hated by all. We can’t keep doing this to our own fellow human beings. It’s just not right.

I’m not just one with a rare experience. I am one of many who was used and discarded so that my child could be given to another couple. I’m not an oddity to be tossed aside. I am the norm for so much of what happens to pregnant moms. For what they are told, what society and our current beliefs leave so many women struggling with.

And it is so wrong. And it makes me so angry.

I can’t change what happened to that sixteen year old girl I was who lost so much but I can use my anger in every way possible to fight against this continuing to happen to other pregnant moms.

Because I’m not going to follow the norm. I’m not going to jump on the bandwagon and believe that it’s okay to use women and their children in such a vulgar, disgusting way.

It just needs to stop. Once and for all. No loving, caring mother should ever be expected to give up her child for any reason. It’s wrong in every way.

I don’t give a damn about money or marriage or career. Mothers and children deserve to stay together. Nobody should ever be led into such a loss. We have to, absolutely have to, stop the ridiculous belief that it’s okay to take a baby from one mother to fill the desire of another.

We have to turn away from the message that a good mother gives up her baby to someone better, to the continued view that any woman would ever actually “choose” by her own free will to lose her child.

And we have to run as hard and as fast as we can away from the thought that those who become pregnant are the ones to solve the loss of those who can’t. It’s not our job. It should never be our job. And until that is understood and accepted, the world of adoption will never change!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Dear Diary

I haven’t seen my old diary for years. Tonight I found it in a box stuffed in the crawl space and realized the last two entries I ever wrote were both about giving up my son and the pain it caused.

So here it is, from the sixteen year old girl I once was who had just lost more than she ever counted on . . .

December 29, 1987,

Two days ago, on Sunday, December 27th, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy at 1:11 a.m. His name is Justin Cain Bella. Today I gave him to his adoptive parents. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my whole life. I feel as if I just gave up a big part of myself. I love Justin, more then I have ever loved anyone else!! It’s gonna hurt so bad. I miss him so much already.

In a way, I want him back so much but I know I can’t. The only thing that kept me from keeping my baby is Terri, the mom who is adopting him. I couldn’t do that to her. She has wanted a baby for so long. I couldn’t hurt her by changing my mind. So although I’m hurting, it helps to know I gave a child to someone who thought they would never be able to have a baby in their life.

But I miss Justin so much. I just want to hold him and love him. I wish I had my son!! I love him so much.

May 22, 1988

I’d love to say everything is perfect now and I have no problems anymore, but I can’t. I still miss my baby a lot!! It’s easy to make my friends believe I’m fine, but deep down inside, I’m still falling apart. I see other people with their babies and I feel like falling apart and crying my eyes out! I look at his pictures and I get a knot in my throat.

I just want Justin back, to hold and love!! He’s a part of me and I can’t just forget him. I have seen him twice since he was born and I’ve gotten plenty of pictures.

I know Terri cares but poor John, he feels as if he doesn’t count, like no one cares that Justin was his baby too and he also had to deal with the pain of giving up a part of him! I know he counts and I know he loves Justin just as much as I do. It took two to make Justin and both of those two are gonna hurt!

Everyday Justin looks more and more like John and I know when he gets older he’s gonna have all the girls chasing after him. I will always love him and I know John always will too. He’s our son and no one can ever change that.

But I still just want him back. That’s all I want is my son back. I’m so tired of crying and missing him and I just want to hold him again and have him as my son. That’s all I want.