Lately, I have found myself back in the angry phases of adoption. I have become as some would call me, an angry bitter birthmom. Well, I don't think I am bitter. But I sure am one pissed off mama, and the way I see it, I have every reason to be pissed off. I was robbed of my mother hood. My daughter lives hundreds of miles away with people I don't even know. Every time I see a license plate from the state she lives in, any time I hear any news from the state she lives in, I have to feel the pang of knowing that that person who I have no clue who they are, was closer to my daughter than I have been in five years.
Adoption was not my choice. I wanted my daughter. I wanted to raise her. Granted, the pregnancy couldn't have come at a worse time. Sure, I balled my eyes out all the way home from the clinic after finding out (the clinic that I had scheduled an appointment at to get on birth control ironically.) Yes, I was petrified of telling my family that I was pregnant, and how I was going to cope as a teen mom. But I wanted my daughter. I loved her from the first time I saw her little gummy bear form dancing for me on the sonogram. My heart melted.
But my love wasn't enough. I couldn't get on welfare and be just a free loader. So, under pressure of my family and the adoption industry, I gave up. It was wrong. My daughter was taken from me. I live every day of my life with that pain. Sometimes I am kept up at night, remembering those feelings of being all alone, remembering being made to feel like it was me against the world. I remember not wanting that. The only way to get the world on my side again was to just give it what it wanted. And that's what I did. I convinced myself it was a good idea. And now I am pissed.
I am pissed that I had to lose my daughter. I am pissed at the system. I am pissed that those I counted on weren't there for me. I am pissed at myself, for not having a backbone. This was the only time in my life I've ever been a wimp. The only time in my life that I have lacked resolve.
But that brings me to my next point. Why does me being pissed make my experience any less valid? Why does my being pissed mean that my opinion doesn't matter? Why is it acceptable for people to tell me to shut up, and that nobody wants my two cents, just because I am angry?
What if we dismissed everybody's story just because they were angry? I'm not just talking about adoption. What if we told angry soldiers returning from the reality war that their opinions and experiences were invalid because they were angry? What if we told victims of abuse that their feelings are irrelevant because "their just angry"? What if we told disgruntled voters that their opinions were irrelevant, because they are just angry? None of this would be okay. So why is it okay, in the world of adoption, to dismiss an opinion on the grounds of being angry?
Adoption was not my choice. I wanted my daughter. I wanted to raise her. Granted, the pregnancy couldn't have come at a worse time. Sure, I balled my eyes out all the way home from the clinic after finding out (the clinic that I had scheduled an appointment at to get on birth control ironically.) Yes, I was petrified of telling my family that I was pregnant, and how I was going to cope as a teen mom. But I wanted my daughter. I loved her from the first time I saw her little gummy bear form dancing for me on the sonogram. My heart melted.
But my love wasn't enough. I couldn't get on welfare and be just a free loader. So, under pressure of my family and the adoption industry, I gave up. It was wrong. My daughter was taken from me. I live every day of my life with that pain. Sometimes I am kept up at night, remembering those feelings of being all alone, remembering being made to feel like it was me against the world. I remember not wanting that. The only way to get the world on my side again was to just give it what it wanted. And that's what I did. I convinced myself it was a good idea. And now I am pissed.
I am pissed that I had to lose my daughter. I am pissed at the system. I am pissed that those I counted on weren't there for me. I am pissed at myself, for not having a backbone. This was the only time in my life I've ever been a wimp. The only time in my life that I have lacked resolve.
But that brings me to my next point. Why does me being pissed make my experience any less valid? Why does my being pissed mean that my opinion doesn't matter? Why is it acceptable for people to tell me to shut up, and that nobody wants my two cents, just because I am angry?
What if we dismissed everybody's story just because they were angry? I'm not just talking about adoption. What if we told angry soldiers returning from the reality war that their opinions and experiences were invalid because they were angry? What if we told victims of abuse that their feelings are irrelevant because "their just angry"? What if we told disgruntled voters that their opinions were irrelevant, because they are just angry? None of this would be okay. So why is it okay, in the world of adoption, to dismiss an opinion on the grounds of being angry?
Unfortunately most people dismiss anger as though whatever the angry person is feeling isn't valid. I hate that people in this stage of grief aren't heard!
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