Contacting Your Caseworker

A mother/friend who surrendered her child to Easter House (same agency I surrendered my first born to) has written me a few times asking about contacting caseworkers.  I have shared a few thoughts with her privately and will share mine with you in a later post but I am curious what your thoughts might be on this?  If you are a mother that surrendered your child, what thoughts do you have (if any) about your caseworker?  Do you have any desire to talk with them now?  If so, what might you want to know?

I have written about my Easter House caseworker, Colleen Rogers, and her refusal to answer my requests for contact.  Sufficie it to say, my short answer to the below, is hell to the yes, I want to talk  with her. I will explain why in a future post. For now, what might you offer to my friend below?  (Note, she has given me permission to share this.)

It’s me another mother who surrendered my daughter to Easter House and adoption.

I have found my casedworker!
And she is the one who had “signed” the ad back in 1983.
I have sent her a letter, she lives less than an hour from me.  I am asking to meet with her to talk.
I also sent her a copy of the ad I sent you. Evidence that I know who she is/was.
I told my therapist, and a couple close friends that I’d found her and hope to meet with her.
Their responses were guarded, and the friends said, “what do you want to ask her?” The therapist said he does not think this will lead to serenity or acceptance, but do what I must.
I have been sitting with that question, and I thought I would ask you.
If you had the opportunity to meet again with the caseworker who claimed to me there for you, to sort out your problems, and then showed up at the hospital (uninvited by me) and came to my house with papers the same day I left the hospital,  what would you want to ask, or to say to her?
Any thoughts?
It is a strong need for me to meet face-to-face with the person who was there, at that life-changing time, whether she remembers me specifically or does not remember me.

 

7 Thoughts.

  1. I generally think when it comes to adoption and reunion, whatever you feel you need to do and have the opportunity to actually get to do, you should. And I don’t think we should take other’s opinions about what you/we should/shouldn’t do into consideration much. Isn’t that how many of us got here?

    If I were in your shoes I’d be banging down that chick’s door. I think you’re very considerate for inviting her out to sit and talk. I’m not patronizing- I imagine there are many out there who would sooner rip her throat out than speak to her.

    Anyway, you should definitely do it. If it’s something you want to do.

  2. Do as you wish. Personally, I am glad I called her. One weekend on Mother’s Day, my daughter called asked my husband and son and I to come visit for the weekend. She then gave me a letter to read and right there on the paper was a request from her parents that we keep in touch yearly. Right there in front of me. I couldn’t have a meltdown right there in front of everyone, and not everyone would “get” it. I was told to stay away, quit coming to the office, etc. Get over it, in short.
    I called her the next day and told her I hope there is a special place in hell just for her. Then I called the next day and told her I still felt that way. I did the right thing because I was giving a voice to the 15 year old scared girl. I was giving a voice to myself when I had none. I could have known she was happy. I could have known more about her. It would have saved me 18 years of anguish.
    The letter also said “she is back to her chubby old self”. WTH?
    I believe she was shaken up by my call and I hope it haunts her to her dying day. Some things are just not “forgivable.”
    And since she told me my mother also thought that I should “move on”, I was glad she had died.

  3. My caseworker is deceased. I’ve thought many times about placing dead flowers on her grave.

  4. Amazingly, I don’t even know her name. My guess is that I completely wiped it out of my mind. I never actually thought about contacting her, and she’s most likely dead at this point in time. I guess the one thing I would want to know is why she lied to me. She knew how much I wanted to keep my child, but apparently she also very much wanted my child for some reason. I wonder if money was involved? I can clearly recall her visiting the tiny 3 room garage apartment that I shared with my boyfriend and pointing out all of the defects and explaining to me that it certainly wasn’t a fit environment for a child. I remember crying for hours after she left and feeling totally helpless and alone in the world.
    @maybe – I rather like your idea of putting dead flowers on the grave.

    • Gosh Gail. Her visiting and commenting your living conditions pre birth makes me ill. For some odd reasons, reminds me of the times when Friend of Children hosted birth mom viewings for prospective adoptive parents. The parents could visit the maternity home and watch the moms (or as I once said “the caged animals in their unnatural habitat”)

  5. When I read your response to me the other night, my eyes welled up. Shortly afterward, I left home to attend my evening exercise class. Throughout the evening, and then off and on over the next few days, I wondered what it was about your comment that struck me so hard. And then, it hit me. The words, “gosh Gail, her commenting….ill.” In a nutshell, you recognized my pain and how awful my situation was and it was awful, really, really awful. As a matter of fact, that day was probably a turning point for me as I realized I was caught in the poverty trap and had nowhere to go. And your words to me in that comment made me confront the fact that in all these years, 40+, no one, neither friends nor family, has ever recognized my pain in any way, shape , or form. Instead, I was shamed by society, shunned by my peers, lied to by the trusted caseworker, and denied access to available resources. I know I’m not alone, many firstmothers, in general, suffer extensively from start to finish – unplanned pregnancy, societal pressures, contempt from some ap’s and the ap’s of our children, reunion rejection and/or abuse from our children and other adoptees who criticize us when we voice our feelings about our pain! It’s no wonder that as we age, we get worn down and worn out.
    Now, Suz, I want to take this opportunity to tell you how very sorry I am for the terrible pain you have suffered from for so many years. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like when, in a time of need, you were sent far away from home and locked up like a criminal in the Easter House. Somehow, you survived and have been able to tell your story, an inspirational one for sure. You are one amazing woman and I admire you (and I do like Rich too) , and what you’re doing to help prevent others from losing their children and/or finding the ones they lost. Thank you.

    • Oh, gosh, hugs to you gf Gail. Awareness chips away at us piece by piece on this journey and sometimes the most innocuous statement can trigger a tidal wave of emotion. What was done to both of us and then to our daughters was horribly wrong. Wish I was in your glorious State right now so I could take you out and we could hug and talk and cry!

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