I tell my story for a living. I run a blog for birth moms, I work at an adoption agency where I lead adoption education throughout the state of Indiana, and I speak publicly at various events. I speak openly and honestly about my experiences as a birth mom, and I am willing to share my story if there’s even a chance that it could help someone else. My story is profound and sacred. My adoption story is one of redemption and unconditional love, and I wholeheartedly believe that my placement choice changed my life in a major way. But to be completely honest with you, I don’t always want to talk about it. In fact, I’m kind of sick of it.
I placed my son in May of 2016. It hasn’t even been two years. Sometimes that day seems like a lifetime ago, and other times it feels like yesterday. Telling my story can be therapeutic; it has helped me heal in so many ways. However, sometimes telling my story feels more like reliving my story in front of an audience… and that sucks. I mean, I can’t even go on dates anymore without some guy saying “So, how did you get into the adoption field?” At this point, I would almost prefer that they Google me instead. (Future husband, if you’re reading this… just Google me okay? I’m tired.)
I don’t blame people for being curious, or just wanting to get to know me better. That’s human nature! I don’t blame my son’s parents for wanting to express how much they appreciate me and the choice I made two years ago. I don’t blame other birth moms for wanting to find out if they can relate to me and my story. I don’t blame other adoptive parents for asking about my experience and how they can learn from it. I do not and could not blame people for being inquisitive. On the other hand, it would be wonderful if I was able to take a vacation day from unveiling the darkest period of my life. Weaving through my grief is part of the routine in my post-placement life, but having my grief smack me in the face unexpectedly is another beast entirely.
If you’re an adoptive parent reading this, how do you effectively apply these ramblings to your own adoption? You can’t fix everything, but I think the best way to talk to your child’s birth mom during visits, calls, or letters is this: Find something else to talk about. Save the deep, sappy remarks for a birthday update, or maybe when you are 110% sure it’s appropriate to mention. Keep things upbeat. Tell her what your kiddo is up to. Remember to ask her how she’s doing, what she’s been up to, and give her encouragement!
Our adoptions often weigh heavily upon our shoulders, no matter how far we have ventured into post-placement and grief. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around us and incessantly worry about saying the wrong thing, but it is important to be conscious of her feelings during conversation. Share joy and friendship with her in this open adoption relationship. I’m sick of talking about my story, let’s just enjoy each other!
WRITTEN BY KELSEY VANDER VLIET OF FROM ANOTHA MOTHA
