"Why had no one told me that my body would become a battlefield, a sacrifice, a test? Why did I not know that birth is the pinnacle where women discover the courage to become mothers?" – The Red Tent
I don’t understand women.
I really don’t.
You would think being a female creature I would understand them.
But I don’t.
I don’t understand all women.
Maybe I am not supposed to.
If men feel more confused than I feel right now when they deal with women, I really feel for men. Poor creatures.
I am currently the casual observer to an unplanned pregnancy. I am "counseling" a family on options. (By counseling, I mean sharing my own story, books and resources). The expectant mother and her mother are calling me and writing me regularly. They are on opposite sides of the fence (but trying to meet in the middle).
The expectant mother in question wants to keep her child. Her own mother, like my own mother and many of our mothers, is encouraging her to surrender the child to adoption.
This makes me ill, angry and dumbfounded.
Let me say that as a women whose mother encouraged her to abandon her first born, I don’t like this feeling. It is wrong. My expectation at that time of my life was that my mother would help me. She should have valued my feelings, my sanity, my soul and therefore valued my child. She valued what the neighbors thought, she valued what the church would say, she valued what my father thought. She did not value me or my feelings.
As my MOTHER, she would have shown me how to be a mother, helped me to be one.
I am not suggesting it was my mothers job to take care of my child – financially or other. I am suggesting that I felt if my mother valued me, she would have valued my child. I am suggesting that women, mothers, sisters, daughters should help fellow females, not hurt them.
Now, I have done enough reading and talking and soul searching to accept the fact that my own mother was a product of her upbringing, the church and the political climate (Sollingers and Fesslers books really helped in this regard.). Acknowledging this allowed me to get past the majority of my anger towards my mother and the apparent ease at which she was able to discard me and my daughter.
However, I still get angry when I see modern day mothers turning away from their daughters and their crisis pregnancies.
Women are supposed to stick together, aren’t we? Aren’t we the alleged lesser gender and therefore we need to band together? Shouldn’t we all gather in the Red Tent and discuss the womanly ways?
Why oh why do we allow these crimes to continue to be acted out on the hearts and souls of our sisters and their children?
How does an infertile, adoptive mother who presumably felt the ache of a child she could not have, encourage her own daughter to give hers away? Is she repaying some perceived debt? A baby for a baby as a opposed to an eye for an eye? Does her daughter not feel like she does? Not matter like she did?
Why do women who cannot have their own child feel it is okay to take that of another – often at any cost? Why do women think their needs or desires trump those of another? Most importantly, why do some women feel it is more important to feed their own hunger for a child than the child’s hunger for his natural mamma?
Why do we do this to each other?
How can any one of us advocate open records and reform when we stand by and watch other women perpetuate the very crime that caused the need for reform?
It pains me.
With all the research available, with the legions of women and adopted adults voicing the horror of adoption, why do we continue to turn our daughters away?
I have recently offered, on two separate occasions, to two separate expectant mothers, to house them. I have organized a support drive for another single mom who recently lost her job. My ehbabes moms and adopted adults sent food, gifts, and gift cards.
We did NOT call the authorities on the unemployed mom, we did not tell the expectant mothers that they should surrender their children. We did not question their ability to be a good mother. It never occurred to us that these mothers were not worthy or capable of caring for their child. They simply need help, guidance, hope and a support. Don’t we all at some time in our lives?
Sure, you can argue that I obtained my wisdom from my despair. You can argue that I do this only because of the loss of my daughter. But you cannot know that for sure. Just like there is no guarantee that a child is better off being raised by a wealthy, two parent family than with his own natural family. You simply cannot know.
Yet many pretend that they do.
And our daughters and their children pay the price of that ignorance.