Manhattan Birthparents Support Group
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Safe supportive space for first mothers to meet
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Written by a birthmother shortly after relinquishment
All I Wanted
All I wanted,
was to hold you
a little while longer.
Tiny fingers and toes,
pink cheecks,
you glowed
The nurses named you "Blondie"
you stood out in the crowd,
I was so proud.
THEY came,
I wasn't ready, but.........
I cried.
Alone now,
at night I cry -
All I wanted.
So now in verse, I try
let go I must,
say goodbye.
But in dreams we meet,
under the same moon we sleep,
for now goodnight.
I hope you are happy my darling child. I pray that you have the life I could not give you. I love you so very much. I don't even mind the loneliness because in my heart I know God is taking care of you. I love you too much for that not to be true. I just wish I had a little more time. Be Happy - I love you.
At the time of relinquishment, I did'nt see any way for my baby to have a happy and healthy life. Without support from the people around me I honestly believed that she would have a better life without me. I have always thought the adoption was my unselfish decision to provide the most important person in the world with a chance at a happy life. I have suffered in silence for that decision for many years, but recently, I have come to realize that I had no real options, so without options, there was no decision. I have carried, within my soul, so much guilt and loneliness that at times, it was difficult to go on ...But I survived and found my voice.......Read my story below
How I found my voice
As background, in 2005 through the NYS Adoption Registry I was reunited with my 19 year old daughter. Until then and for a long time afterwards, I was silent about my grief. I did believe I had any rights. My reunion has been a rollercoaster of highs and lows. In September of 2006 I spent two days at an adoption conference at Fordham University where I began to find my voice.....here's my story...
My emotions are still spinning and I am not quite sure how to articulate my thoughts. There were so many wonderful amazing people, just drinking in their aura has empowered me. I had my circle of supportive friends, and as usual was afraid to venture far from the their acceptance but I watched and listened and grew that weekend. I am beginning to believe that I do not have to suffer any more, at least not in silence. Anne Fessler's audio presentation still rings in my ears, it was truly a tribute to our shared trauma, the voices, so different all one. A moving tribute for all but for me, a revelation and an out of body experience. My soul was released and floated above the room. I didn‘t want the voices to stop but didn‘t know how long I could survive if they continued. When it finally ended (18 minutes later, I asked Ann), I raced outside to the comfort of a familiar cigarette. I stood on the outskirts of many women, their mouths all moving, trying to have their voices heard. I tried to hide my tears and listen, to hear what they were saying. But the pain inside me was screaming to get out and I could not hide from one woman, a woman I neither spoke to before or after, her name was Leslie Wagner, and she may not even remember me, but she saw my pain and hugged me tight and allowed me to cry in her arms. As someone else so eloquently wrote, it was a Primal Sob…… the loss of my child, it no longer mattered why, she was gone and I wailed, cried for myself and my pain. I think Leslie may have saved my life, as at that very moment I thought I was going to die and I will be forever grateful to her for bringing me back. I apologized for breaking down, composed myself and returned to the fold, to drink in more. I went to a workshop about finding our voice, of course I was quiet but something inside me began to stir. A question was asked “when did you lose your voice?” This has resonated with me because I must go back to the beginning before I can move on. I have been searching my brain for the date and I remember. My story in a nutshell is that at the age of 23, (I have a great deal of guilt that I wasn’t 15 or 17 but 23 years of age) I found myself pregnant in circumstances less than perfect. My mother, a good Irish catholic woman, could not handle it, she couldn’t see past the shame. My dad came up with the solution of adoption, I think he saw it as an end to my mother’s pain and I believe he thought it was best for me but I wonder if anyone thought of my baby. I was young, innocent, naive and totally dependant on my parents, so being a “good girl” I decided it would be easier to go along with his plan until I could figure out a better way out. At my parents insistence, I went to visit Sister Rosalie Gibson, the NUN, and I realize now that once I did, my baby and I didn’t have a chance. For months, I spoke to that woman almost daily, I told her of my secret plans to support my child alone. I told her I was only talking to her to keep the peace at home, I even told her about going shopping and putting many baby items on “lay away” in a baby store near my home. I reached out to that NUN for help and guidance but she had her own plan…………... I know she also met with my mother and father, and I’m guessing all she did was reinforce my mother’s guilt and shame. I loved my baby more than I can put into word and I wanted her with me but one night a few days before she was born I went to sleep and prayed to God to give me a sign of which path I should take. I woke the next morning without an answer but had a thought. It occurred to me that the hardest path would probably be the right path. I knew in my soul that the hardest path for me would be to let my baby go. So that that was my sign, the hardest thing for me would surely be the best thing for my baby. I’m not sure if it was that day or the next but very soon my little girl came into the world, kicking and screaming after 36 hours of a lonely and painful labor, alone with my thoughts and prayers, she arrived beautiful and blond and perfect. I spent 3 days with her, and I can remember almost every second she was in my arms. I looked at her and promised her that God would give her the perfect life, I told her I was sorry that I was not good enough but that my love would last forever. I was promised that my baby would go directly to the perfect family and her perfect life would begin immediately. My mother shocked me, and said “we can take her home with us” but by that time, I believed in my heart that she deserved the perfect home that I could not provide. We left the hospital, but I left my soul behind……… I made my dad drive me directly to our church, and I went inside and cried for a long long time, until finally my mom and dad wrapped me in their arms and brought me home. Within a few days, I had to go visit the NUN to sign some papers; I didn’t want to, but my mother’s moment of clarity had disappeared, and my dad’s strong resolve pushed me forward. I signed the papers, and waited the 30 days until my baby was no longer mine (I think it was 30 days but it may have been 90). I changed my mind, I couldn’t survive without her, but I couldn’t find my voice. I remember, the 30th day, sitting on the couch with both my parents, we were watching TV, my pain was excruciating, my mind was racing, how could I stop the clock, who could I call? But not a word was said, and the clock ticked on, I’m not even sure my parents knew that my time was running out………… HOW COULD THEY NOT HAVE SEEN MY PAIN? It baffles me to this day………… the clock ticked on, my baby was gone and our lives were changed forever. So the next day, I went back to the baby store where I had all the things on “lay-away” and requested my money back but of course nothing is easy, as it was a small store with a no money back policy, so I calmly told them my baby had died………..I got my money back, I don’t remember how much, and I went home and never spoke of my little girl again………… She was in my heart, and in my prayers but not on my lips - my heart was broken, my suffering began and my voice was gone.
20 years have passed, and I have made a lonely life. I do find joy in the people in my life and I am as happy as my broken heart will allow. My nieces and nephews replace my daughter in many ways, and they do bring my comfort but I am not whole. I have always believed that my silent suffering was being rewarded with my daughter’s pure happiness but this past weekend, I began to think WHY? Why do I think this way…………do I not deserve to be happy, am I inherently bad and deserve a constant punishment? My voice is straining to be heard, right now it’s a whisper but finding strength……………..
Thank you to all the other voices I heard in NYC, thank you for helping to free my voice……….. I pray my voice grows stronger everyday……………….
Toy's story.... Lost and found, a birthmother’s secret son
Natural Parents Bill of Rights, Author Unknown
We have the right to dignity and respect.
We have the right to know if our surrendered child is alive and well.
We have the right to possess, surrender, relinquishment, consent to adopt, termination of parental rights and hospital records pertaining to ourselves and our child.
We have the right and obligation to provide full knowledge to our child of their origins, ethnic and religious backgrounds, their original name and any pertinent medical and social details.
We have the right to personal contact with our adult child, as all other humans.
We have the right to update our medical and social history for that child.
We have the right to live without guilt toward our child.
We have the right to give back or let go of any shame caused by our pregnancy and or child's adoption.
We have the right to love our child as all other parents, We have the right and obligation to show our feelings.
We have the right to become whole and complete people.
We have the right and obligation not to violate the dignity of all people in the adoption circle and to carry our message to all birth parents who still suffer.
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Adoption is a permanent solution to a temporary problem
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