E. turned 8 on Saturday.
8 years ago today I left the hospital and handed her off to her parents. I was euphoric. We have pictures from that day. I was smiling through tears, Josh looks like he had the soul sucked out of him.
I still wonder at the power of my...denial? illusions? that got me through placement. I believed without question that it was the right thing to do, I think if I had doubted it at all the whole house of cards would have fallen and I would not have been able to place her. I knew this at the time, I planned strategies to keep myself from reconsidering after she was born. Sending her home with the adoptive parents directly from the hospital was a big part of that plan.
I believed I knew better, was more clear-headed, pre-birth than I would be post-birth. I planned for the "temporary insanity" induced by becoming a mother. I indentified myself as a birthmother long before E. was born.
I was looking forward to a shiny new life, where I could put my bad girl self behind me and pick up the pieces, go back to school, get myself a real life. Keeping the baby represented the loss of all that hope. Keeping the baby felt like going backwards, going back to my parent's house, back to dependency and childhood, in a way. Letting my mistakes trap me into a life without possibility, which is what motherhood was to me. (That is a post by itself. It is not an uncommon sentiment in my post-feminist generation; motherhood is the End of Everything. People are very quick to remind you of evertthing to be lost when you become a mother, from your girlish figure to your intellignce and personality.)
Placing the baby felt like a "do-over". It felt like I was moving forward, rectifying mistakes, giving myself another chance.
It's all so ironic. Placing pulled me backwards: depression, disordered eating, drug abuse, thank god I got married or there would have been all kinds of inapropriate sex in there too, and all the baggage it leads to. All that stuff I was looking forward to? It evaporated. No new life, no new hope, just my worst self with an incurable emptyness in my soul. No redemption. All that stuff I wanted, that I thought mattered more to me than my baby, turned out not to matter at all.
Maybe someone tried to warn me of the scale of the loss I was going to expereince. I don't remember. I know that in my state of mind at the time I would never have heard them. I was doing adoption in a modern, pragmatic way, researching and planning and I was different than they were, adoption is different now, I am not going to fall apart like that.
This is the reason I simply cannot deal with women considering adoption for their babies. I can't stand talking, knowing my words are falling on deaf ears, and remembering how immovable my own mind was. I can't stand not talking, and letting them walk into the silent, thankless world of birthmotherhood without a warning.
hmmm...
Wow. I really am speechless after that post.
The world of birthmotherhood IS thankless. I am not a birthmother who has given their child up for adoption, but I can see that. The adoptive parents say, "Thanks, see you later!" and drive off.
But then again, how DO you thank someone adequately for giving the gift of a child to you? I don't think there is enough thanks in the world.
Rach
Posted by: rach | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 10:41 AM
wow, E is just 6 weeks older than the Kiddo. i remember thinking many of the same things, the "I" statements. you just don't ever know, and i thought i was uber prepared.
there was no smiling through tears for me. it was more "what the hell just happened"?
Posted by: barb | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 11:43 AM
As a hopeful adoptive parent it kills me to read this post. It kills me that your relationship didn't work out with E's parents.
It leaves me feeling sad and confused. Confused because there must be some birthfamilies where adoption really is what they want and what is best for them. Sad because I'm sad for your situation and sad because for me, becoming a mommy won't happen unless someone decides we should be parents to their child.
Posted by: Away2Me | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 01:34 PM
Your words continue to be fearlessly self-searching.
Posted by: speakingformyself | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 03:05 PM
I really wish you were sharing E's life. I just can't imagine an adoptive family not honoring their committments to their children's birth families.
I am sorry for your grief too Kateri. I wish their was something that we could do to help you out.
Posted by: Lisa V | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 04:22 PM
wow kate. you always make me think so much. i'm just thinking and thinking, and trying to articulate something, but it never seems quite right -- maybe i'll try on my blog soon. voices like yours are so so important. thank you for being brave. and i'm very sorry for your loss.
marta
Posted by: mamamarta | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 04:41 PM
How completely heart-wrenching... my soul just aches as I think of what you've been through... and of course... it also makes me think of the anguish my own birthmother endured.
Thanks for being so incredibly honest and open, Kateri.
Posted by: Manuela | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 05:30 PM
I can relate and relive so much of what you say. Led to believe you were doing the right thing and that you would go on and make a life for yourself. That you would both benefit from this, she would have a great life and you would go on and conquer the world. Nobody told me that I would be carrying a heavy stone of grief in my throat while trying to conquer the world. Beautiful post.
Posted by: kim | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 06:06 PM
Oh, Kateri. My heart aches for you. I'm so so sorry you have this weight on you.
Posted by: Moxie | Monday, January 09, 2006 at 11:33 PM
Oh.wow.
I could never have imagined the depth of the emotions involved. You really need to give speeches, write books--get this out there.
Happy Birthday to E. You made that possible.
Posted by: running2ks | Tuesday, January 10, 2006 at 12:56 PM