Birthmother Holidays & Adoptee Birthdays

Adoption Birthday Blues

Why Am I Depressed Every Year?

One of the things that I have learned in the many years of living life as a birthmother is that it is normal to be fighting depression at holidays and feeling sad on my adopted son’s birthday.  It doesn’t matter how hard I try to fight it off and overcome the depression and holiday blues. It doesn’t matter how great the rest of my life might be. It doesn’t matter if I consciously even remember. On a cellular level, every year like clockwork, it hits.

The Normality of  Adoption Birthday Sadness

While other people also suffer from the holiday blues, and other life issues to trigger adoption feelings during non-holiday times, a birthmother experiencing painful memories and sadness is normal on an adoptees  birthday. On the same vein, many adoptees report of feeling sad and uncomfortable on their birthdays as well.

It makes it easier to overcome this depression in some way by understanding that the adoption holiday/birthday depression is normal and to expect it, rather than fight it. Know that it is situational depression and often, will pass with the change of the calendar pages. Know that you are not alone in feeling this way.


Adoption: Broken Ornaments

Somewhere, in another state, another tree that I will never see, holds pieces of my family’s heritage. I imagine that nursery schools in Massachusetts also help young student create gifts for parents out of glitter and handprints, popsicles sticks and finger paints. I can only imagine the proud joy of my 4 year old son placing his tissue wrapped creation under the tree. It might have said “mom” on the tag, but it was never meant for me.


When a Signature Changes Your Life: Relinquishment

I’m in the midst of it all: Adoption Trauma week or better known the Season of Max. So here it is; it’s November. The week from hell. Trying to remain “normal”, but feeling so very tightly strung up as if I could break or snap at any moment. Tired, impatient, restless, annoyed, teary, over excited, sad. Friday: Finish another long week, and promptly get into a stupid agreement with Rye…


Adoption and Halloween

It’s no secret that I LOVE Halloween. We spend weeks decorating. Seriously, I used to control myself until October 1st, now it’s back to school and get out the Halloween boxes. I actually spin the spider webs on my porch like a spider would. It takes me hours. I don’t even think Martha Stewart does THAT! Ok, she does, but mine ARE SERIOUSLY way MORE BETTER!  I have more backlights than…


Finding Normal; Visits with Adopted Siblings

Maybe it just had to be like this. No advanced planning, no time to think, no opportunity to worry, wonder of second guess; just a chance to hit the road and once again, begin the journey back to Boston, back to my son. Could it be that I was actually going to Boston for a work function and my son, relinquished, searched for, found, and now four years into reunion, was meting us to watch the kids for me? A child care crisis gives adoption reunion a new name: NORMALITY

That it was the day before Mother’s Day and officially, urg, Birthmother’s Day made it only the more sweet.


Screw Birthmother’s Day! I am Officially Rebeling!

Like most mothers who have relinquished, even with having three more children, Mother’s Day can be very bittersweet. No matter how loved or celebrate by those in life, Mothers Day is a reminder for what is not. It serves as a reminder for the years lost. For years of handmade presents that went to another mother who took your place. Of course, I don’t find that having a separate segregated holiday makes that any better.There is no peace for a birthmother on Mother’s Day. Did I say screw Birthmother’s Day yet?


Talking to Myself

I couldn’t sleep last night. We had spent the whole day in the mountains of the Shawangunks Mountains, hiking with the kids, and then they elected to stay over Grandma’s so Rye and I had a sudden night free. So we meandered back through town, stopping along the way; over the High Falls Cafe where I was thrilled to see my former apartment dweller neighbor Becky, then through town where…


Mother’s Day: Still a Disappointment

And the Hope Never Dies I tell myself not to expect anything. I know not to set myself up for disappointment, but still, it’s impossible to avoid. For years, my mother’s day routine has been to go out and get myself all my spring annuals and just spend the day gardening my fool self off. Then, starting off from the years of being a single mom to one little boy…


Adoption, Relinquishment, Informed Consent, Abortion, 911, and Insurance: How to Fix Adoption??

I don’t know why, but the responses to my last post about my dreading with November was overwhelming to me. It wasn’t that people responded with kindness; I actually expect the innate goodness and compassion of most. It wasn’t that my feelings obviously resonate to what other moms feel during the birthday months of our relinquished children either. It was more like I was so struck at how very similar…


November: A BirthMothers Season of Loss

Here it comes. I don’t know why I am surprised. It’s November. It’s National Adoption Awareness Month. Max’s Birthday is on Saturday. My due date for him was tomorrow November 12th. Into the Season of Max I roll.. Gotcha Gotcha Gotcha! I feel the big cranky coming on. Tuesday night when I found myself almost in tears over a pretty much a nothing conversation with Rye, I immediately thought “PMS?”,…


Adoption Demons

Maybe it was because I spent almost two hours on last Tuesday evening talking to a reporter about how my seemingly very progressive agency was using acceptable, but subtly coercive tactics to point me only relinquishment, and it weakened my inner stone wall. Maybe it is because it’s almost Mother’s Day as well and between having lost my own mother many years ago, plus being a mother who lost one…


Adoption is NOT a State of Mind!!

Annual Birthmother / Adopted Child Birthday Blues Today is the last day of the “Max’s Birthday Week..let me live in the past..thank you”. Unfortunately, it is now piggybacking on real PMS and, as always, Thanksgiving blues. Coupled with Holiday Blues Thanksgiving always makes me miss my own mother really, really bad. It is not uncommon for me to be cooking the brussel sprouts or stuffing from her handwritten recipe book…



In the Midst…mist…fog

Not a full on wallow, but days of normal with just flashes of internal emotional angst. Welcome to my November. It’ so weird how it hits. And is always so different. You just never know what to expect really. Like Max’s birthday itself..that was Tuesday. Actually, Monday on my way to work I thought about how, 19 years earlier, I was, on that day going to the supermarket and picking…


Gotcha!

You say “Gotcha” and my mind races back to those days;with no regard to what it might be like, was like, is like. There is no room in the word “gotcha” for me. And while I can understand the feelings of joy my son’s parents had; heck, I comforted myself with the fantasy of what it was like for them..to balance it out, to give the pain some meaning, some purpose besides myself; I like to think that they did think of me..wondered too..if I was sad and feeling alone, empty. Like I thought of them..full of joy..loving my child.