Opening the Adoption Part 1

So there we were, both having no choice but to communicate through social workers, as if we weren’t grown adults who could make our own decisions.

But here is a cautionary tale.

An old friend went into adoption with a woman who was still pregnant. They met each other. The day of the birth, the woman was EXTREMELY nonchalant about having given birth to a child she’d never mother. En route home from hospital, birth mom asked my friend’s husband to stop so he could buy her a pizza. It was surreal. It was like she’d given them a bag of apples, not a baby.

The requests never stopped. While the baby lay slowly dying in hospital, over a month before succumbing without ever seeing the outside of a hospital room, the birth mother was callously asking for money, for gifts for the child she was parenting… She totally ignored that my friend was grieving the impending and eventual loss of a child. A child they both shared. She didn’t even ask how the child was even when my friend told her the baby was on a ventilator.

He’s definitely not a birth mom I’d want to give my number to.

Others have launched lawsuits wanting their children back. Not sure how I would react to that one. If it’s been less than a month, I might actually let the child go to its biological mother. Less scarring from abandonment issues etc. If the child was not removed due to neglect etc, and the mom just truly wants to be a loving parent, could I really stand in the way? I’m glad I never have to find out.

And I never had to fear that with our child’s birth mom.

As I said, we felt an instant connection with her. Her address was on the clinic card but had been blacked over by the social workers. We made it out anyway but the person who answered the door said that birth mom wasn’t living there, she didn’t know any such person. (Was a lie. She thought birth mom was doing unsavory things and didn’t want her to go down that route again.)

I told the mom whose baby was dying now desperate I was to know my child’s birth mom was ok. I won’t tell you how, but then a stranger in a group managed to send her birth mom’s work address and home address. And cellphone number!

I had been searching (all of my friends have searched for their children’s birth parents online ) on Facebook for her but never found her. I hastily looked up the company she worked for, hoping they had a Facebook page and photos. I needed to know she was ok. After all, we’d only received that ONE letter and months had passed in which only I was sending photos and letters. We’d not even heard from her when the baby had her first birthday.

I saw her in the photos! She was laughing with colleagues…”She’s ok! She’s ok. Despite what she’s going through, she’s still smiling! Moreover, she hasn’t committed suicide in sorrow over placing her child for adoption!” I can’t express my joy! I was so happy!

Ironically, her workplace was a street away from my husband’s job. We could have easily bumped into her!

Of course that was not enough for me! I had her number. I HAD to use it. But how? I crafted the most important letter (via WhatsApp) that I’ve ever crafted in my life. I told her who I was. I told her that I had felt an instant connection and bond with her so was bewildered at the silence and was wondering if perhaps she had changed her mind about the semi open nature and wanted to just be forgotten. I told her I didn’t want to open her wounds up and cause her pain but that I just didn’t feel ok with letting the silence go unchallenged.

I told her that if she wanted, we could chat via WhatsApp and cut out the middle man. But I also told her that seeing as she had been so silent, I was assuming she totally wanted out and if so, I would never write to her ever again. I told her that if she does not respond to this letter, then I’d know she wants space. And I told her that I would therefore only get in touch should my number change so that she always had it should she ever change her mind and want to know how our shared daughter is doing.

Then I pressed send.

Would this jeopardise our next adoption that we had already begun working on? Would she tell Baddie and Better that we were stalking her? Would she tell me to delete her number because she had moved on and in her mind, never gave birth? Had I tried here’s a cascade of heartache that nothing would ever soothe?

Time passed.

I prayed.

I cried.

Then I saw a response beginning with, “I’m crying and I’m at work..”I opened the message, feeling guilty…

I felt guilty for re-opening wounds.

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