Today is his first birthday. I won’t be sharing any cake with him. At the most, my daughter will forward a picture of him that she’ll receive from his mom and dad–his adoptive family.
The day he was born is probably the only birthday I’ll share with him because we’re the birth family, the ones on the other side of adoption.
Our daughter, Jessica, made the difficult decision last year to give him to another family she had chosen to raise him.
We had a nine month journey that climaxed when Jessica went into labor, still unsure if she would give her son to adoption or not. Her labor was easy compared to the questions she wrestled with about her newborn. Her circumstances were complicated and volatile. Her reality was tough. Making a decision about what to do was even tougher.
It was a year ago that Gary and I sat in the hospital room with Jessica and the baby. The clock on the wall moved closer and closer to check-out time, which meant Jessica was forced to move closer to a decision. This process, choosing to leave with the baby or without the baby, was a heart-wrenching struggle. It was hard work, leaving our hearts bruised and tender.
When we left the hospital the next day, without the baby, I left with a new appreciation for adoption–the other side of adoption. Our family has spent 20 years on the receiving side of adoption—we adopted Jessica and her twin brother when we lived in Venezuela. (I’ve written before about the receiving side here, here, and here). This time we weren’t the ones receiving. Our daughter was the one giving.
Instead of being the family that said, “We can do it,” like we did twenty years ago, we were the family that said, “We can’t.” Jessica said, “I can’t.”
It’s one thing to say, “I can’t swim,” “I can’t drive,” or “I can’t eat peanut butter.” It’s another thing to say, “I can’t be a mom.” And for myself, it meant saying, “We can’t be those grandparents.”
There are lots of parameters in place to tell us we can’t do different things. You can’t drive until you pass a test. You can’t be a soldier until you’re 18. You can’t ride a rollercoaster unless you’re taller than the mark. But no one tells you that you can’t be a mother. If you’re pregnant, it’s assumed you can do it. It takes guts to even ask the question.
It was a strange place for our family to be, because for years we were the ones who could. We adopted Jessica and her twin brother when their biological family couldn’t take care of them. We could at a time when they couldn’t. But now we were all in a different place. Jessica’s situation was complicated, very complicated, and volatile. As much as she wanted to say, “Yes, I can,” she was honest with herself and the baby to say, “I can’t.” Our family had to say, “We can’t.”
This phrase, “I can’t,” can easily be misunderstood and quickly met with pat answers and superficial clichés. So I’ll share with you three things I learned about those words from the other side of adoption–
1. It was courageous to say “I can’t”. We often think those words are an easy out. You say, “I can’t,” when you’re afraid to try. The coach on the sideline shouts, “Yes you can! Try harder!” Or someone in the aisle says, “Have faith, you can do it. All things are possible.” But in Jessica’s case, it required more courage for her to say, “I can’t,” than anything else she could have said. It wasn’t the easy way out. It took courage to even ask the hard questions and look honestly at her reality. It took courage to give the baby to someone else that can.
2. “I can’t,” doesn’t mean, “I don’t want to.” Some people told Jessica she was selfish for entrusting her baby to his adoptive family because they assumed that “I can’t” meant, “I don’t want to.” More than anything, Jessica wanted to raise her child. She wanted to be the one celebrating birthdays with him, and everything in between. But instead of thinking only about what she wanted, she also thought about the baby’s needs. In her case, saying, “I can’t,” was sacrificial, not selfish.
3. It’s not a forever, “I can’t.” There may be a time in the future that Jessica raises a child. Saying, “I can’t,” didn’t mean that she was saying no to motherhood forever. It meant that she decided she couldn’t do it now.
So today, instead of eating cake at a birthday party, I can’t help but remember the labor pains from a year ago. Not the pain of delivery—I know, that’s easy for me to say. I remember the pains of making such a tough decision–the pain of saying, “I can’t.” My heart feels tender when I remember my new perspective from the other side of adoption. But more than anything, my heart feels thankful.
I’m thankful that Jessica had the courage to say, “I can’t.”
I’m thankful for the other family that said, “I can.”
Happy Birthday!
Linking up with Grace and Truth
I have been there! It was the worst day of my life. Tell her not to listen to mean people say negative things about birth moms, but to hold her head high and be proud of her choice. One day she will meet that son of hers. My heart goes out to you and Jessica.
Thanks! I know there are a lot of people out there who can relate. We just don’t hear from the other side very often.
There is sooooooooooooooo MUCH LOVE in her words I can’t. The selfless love it took to say them, to be that honest and realistic, true bravery. Jessica baby -sons story is how much his birth mom loves him, right from the start. How much you ALL love him, oh how blessed to be surrounded in such great depth of love. Adoption is complicated, those are my mantra words when asked. My husband and I have 2 adopted children, our love relationships started in to the foster care cycle. BUT as I tell them there stories, it is truly on heart to not miss that BIG parts of the love in the complicated… Life is complicated, and the love gets us through it. God bless you guys for sharing your brave – deep- committed love stories !!!
Thanks for your encouragement. And so true about the stories being complicated. To say it’s complicated hardly does justice to the many layers and subplots of an adoption story. May you have strength and joy to keep loving through your family’s complicated stories. Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful post, Frances. I curated it into Open Adoption Matters magazine: http://bit.ly/openadoptionmag
Thanks for sharing it. Hopefully it can encourage other families on the journey.
My heart still stirs to think of those moments holding my grandson that I will probably never see again. I’m proud of Jessica for making the hard call – the right call. You worded it well.
i know the pain of leaving a hospital with empty arms. In my case, God took them home early. I have a living daughter now because a brave young woman had the courage to say she couldn’t. The sacrifice and love that comes from saying “I can’t” is never lost on me. Thank you for sharing the other side of adoption.
So sorry for your pain. Thanks for sharing the convergence of “I can’t,” and “I can,” in your family’s story.
I think about this as we wait to be matched with an expectant mother. I hope that the situation will allow for the openness that can include birth parents and birth grandparents. I know it’s not always possible or wise but I hope for it.
May you be blessed with patience during your season of waiting and with wisdom as you navigate your future relationships.
As an adoptive mom of two wonderful little boys, I hope you are able to someday have a relationship with your grandson. We have open adoptions with both of our boys’ birth families and have such close relationships with them that we celebrate birthdays, holidays and even vacation together. I know it’s not the ordinary, but it is possible. I wish more adoptive families would include their birth families in their child’s lives. After all, you can never have too many people that love your children, right? Hugs to you and Jessica. You are both strong women.
Thanks! What a gift that your kids are surrounded by so many who love them.
This is incredibly touching. I’m a foster mom, and God has given me an unlikely compassion for biological families who must give up their children for a season. However, I’ve not had much interaction with biological families who have made the excruciating choice you’re describing here. Thank you for sharing so openly from your experience, that others might come closer to understanding. I’m glad and thankful you linked this up with us at Grace & Truth.
I’d love to share this on Friday at A Divine Encounter as one of two features! However, the rules require that a post be linked back to the Grace & Truth page of one of the hostesses in order to be featured. It’s quite possible that I’ve missed your link back. If so, or if you’d like to add one to be featured, please let me know. Either way, thank you again for sharing this with us!
I’m thankful you found this helpful for understanding one of the sides of adoption. I have a deep respect for foster parents and know that your role in the story of children and families is so unique and important.
Sorry to be a slow responder…our summer schedule has made me less consistent online. I’ll put the link on the post (I forgot when I linked it), and I’m happy for you to share it whenever you would like. Thanks!!
I know (to an extent) what it’s like to be on your side of the adoption. On our end, things happened where we kept out daughter, but I will always appreciate those moms who give up their children because it’s what’s best for the child. God bless you and your daughter on the journey.
Frances,
Thank you for sharing these brave words with us at Grace and Truth last week (or the week before?). I have a several adopted nieces and nephews that we love deeply. But I also have a cousin who gave her firstborn up for adoption – I know it’s been a struggle for her to find peace over it. I can’t even imagine the difficulty of such a decision. I applaud your daughter for choosing the best possible scenario given her circumstances. If you’d like to connect with my cousin (or if your daughter would), she blogs at angieknutson.com – she has a few articles on her experience as a birth mom there. I will pray now for your daughter and your family as you pass this difficult anniversary of sorts.
Jen
Thanks,Jen. I’ll look up your cousin’s blog! It’s always good to connect with others who have a similar journey.
Wow. Thanks for sharing those touching words. Looking forward to read more of what God puts in your heart…
Thanks!
Woah nelly, how about them apselp!
Merci for your visit to my Paris blog. I hope you will come and visit often. I'm delighted to find yours. I will forward to my daughter who has a small catering business and took some French cooking classes in Paris last fall! V