Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

It has been talked about among mothers of adoption loss in groups and on forums. It is something that most people think only applies to soldiers, what was once called "Battle Fatigue." But when perusing the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, it has become clear that many of us exhibited some or all of the traits of the disorder.

My symptoms fell within the categories of avoidance and arousal although I was also tormented by dreams of babies being thrown off a cliff. Below, are the symptoms of PTSD. It seems that trauma does not have to involve a direct threat to your physical life. For a woman, even a very young woman, the kind of experience we endured when we lost our babies to adoption seems to do the job all too well.



1. Reliving the event:
•Flashback episodes, where the event seems to be happening again and again
•Recurrent distressing memories of the event
•Repeated dreams of the event
•Physical reactions to situations that remind you of the traumatic event

2. Avoidance
•Emotional "numbing," or feeling as though you don’t care about anything
•Feelings of detachment
•Inability to remember important aspects of the trauma
•Lack of interest in normal activities
•Less expression of moods
•Staying away from places, people, or objects that remind you of the event
•Sense of having no future


3. Arousal
•Difficulty concentrating
•Exaggerated response to things that startle you
•Excess awareness (hyper vigilance)
•Irritability or outbursts of anger
•Sleeping difficulties


You also might feel a sense of guilt about the event (including "survivor guilt"), and the following symptoms, which are typical of anxiety, stress, and tension:


•Agitation, or excitability
•Dizziness
•Fainting
•Feeling your heart beat in your chest (palpitations)
•Fever
•Headache
•Paleness
 
It's really demoralizing to express those symptoms to a professional, then say it is connected to your surrender experience only to be told, "well, you just need to move on." They don't say that to the returning POW or the person who survived a plane crash, but we are seen as so unimportant by so many that we are blamed for what was done TO us. We are seen as the perpetrators of our own disillusionment and grief.
 
People really seem to have an aversion to the word "victim" as if anyone who says they were victimized walked around with a big target saying "shoot me" on their back. So let's refresh the slaves to pop psychology with the definition of "victim."
 
 vic·tim   /ˈvɪktɪm/ Show Spelled[vik-tim] –noun
1. a person who suffers from a destructive or injurious action or agency: a victim of an automobile accident.
2. a person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency: a victim of misplaced confidence; the victim of a swindler; a victim of an optical illusion.
3. a person or animal sacrificed or regarded as sacrificed: war victims.
4. a living creature sacrificed in religious rites

Well now, Golly, Gosh, Gee Whiz! Take a look at number two! Although, from the standpoint of us Bible Belters, I cannot be sure that number four doesn't include us, as well, I have to say that is a pretty good description of what happened to most of the mothers of the BSE/EMS.

So, we WERE victims of that impersonal agency and a judgmental society. To say we weren't is to deny history. That doesn't mean we are still victim material. But it is a perfectly good word that means nothing bad about those who have been victimized. Sorry Dr. Phil (Ill), but blaming the victim is not sound psychology. These celebrity life gurus do more damage than good, in my opinion. Meanwhile, those who feel guilt at having survived their trauma, can feel more because the good Dr. says they caused it, themselves. Arrhg!

I have often hesitated to apply this disorder to mothers because the PR of the industry has already presented us as emotionally frail and in need of "protection." I don't want to encourage that kind of thinking. But the fact that many of us have been affected by PTSD and survived and made lives for ourselves says more about our strength than our weaknesses. It is an individual thing as to how much each mother was affected, but I know a lot of really smart, strong and accomplished women who have fought this battle. Our fallen heroes, like Di Welfare, Carol Anderson and others are prime examples of what we CAN do.

Perhaps, just perhaps, our experience with PTSD can become a sword of battle rather than a burden to slow us down. We can respect ourselves for dealing with this emotional mine field for decades and we have the right to ask that the rest of this society respect us, as well.

In fact, I think it is time we demanded that respect.
 

What They Don't Know Will Hurt Us

Every once in a while, a member of the general public, not affected by surrender or adoption, will stumble across our online discussion or blogs and wonder what the Hell is going on. Quite often, these naifs will venture to say something based on the adoption mythology that is fed to the public and catch the very Devil for doing so. They will refer to the act of surrender as "heroic and/or selfless" or worse, as the will of God, or they will talk about an adopted person they know who is very happy (as they see them).

The populace at large is hardened  to the thought that surrender and separation just might be a tragic mistake and that people are making money or fulfilling their own agendas by facilitating that separation. They just think we have lost our freaking minds.

I was recently reminded of the enormity of the task of educating the citizens of our nation about the realities of a mother's loss. If we talk about the BSE, then we get the response, "well aren't you glad things aren't like that, anymore?" We also get that innocently obtuse query, "You are reunited now and that makes it all OK, doesn't it?" Most will scratch their heads in bewilderment when we tell them that, "No, it is not all OK."

My friend, Musing Mother, had a comment on Facebook made to her by someone wanting to be supportive of her but understanding nothing of what we were all about. She got a couple of nasty replies and I am sorry to say that I was one of the authors. I deleted and explained myself. The young woman didn't deserve what she got.

Now I am sure that those more practical and experienced than me will tell me that I am dreaming, but I honestly feel we need to expand our message to the general public. That is not an original thought, on my part. Karen W. B. Buterbaugh, founder of BSERI and the new Exiled Mother website mentioned this and that got me to thinking. What we do online, with blogs that are linked to by Googling "adoption" and in online forums is either debate with the ones who have a vested interest in keeping the myth alive or preach to the choir. John Q. and Suzie Q. Public are going about their lives, largely unaware of the tempest raging in a confined arena.

We also have  to contend with a biased, pro-adoption media. They'll cover the dramatic and tear-jerking reunions, but leave it at that and call it "happily ever after." We tend to get dismissed as a lunatic fringe (and the fact that there are a few of those among us doesn't help). I think we EMS moms need to get our noggins together and come up with something dramatic that might reach the eye of an enterprising reporter or writer. A lot of educating was done with Ann Fessler's "The Girls Who Went Away." It was a best-seller so there might be some out there who at least have an idea of what we are trying to say. It is a good starting point.

I still have to hearken back to the days of the Women's Suffrage Movement. In the movement in America, one lady is reported to have chained herself to the White House gate and went to jail for her efforts. We need to know, as well, that even in that historical event, not all those fighting for the vote were on the same page. There were factions and wranglings just like there are in our issues. But we eventually got the vote. We have already had a member of our community jailed for her action on behalf of those searching. We lost another, younger mother to suicide when the adopters slammed the adoption shut in her face and she discovered how she had been used by the machinations of the adoptress (and HER, I will call by that title) who wrote a how-to book about it, for Pete's sake!

I fear more losses of this kind if the story of how it all began is not put out there for everyone to know and understand. What happened to us is the story of a smug, vile, greedy industry in its infancy. Maybe now, while everyone is pissed at BP, would be a good time to point out the money-making-for-a-big-business aspect of our losses. It would take courage and focus and planning but maybe we could widen the crack made by Ann's book and let in more light.

These are just random thoughts. We are not all on the same page about the BSE/EMS and it might be that a few have to make a big splash. But, Hell. It's been done before. Chains, anyone?

Why The Bat Has No Friends

(With Thanks From Oban's Myths & Legends )

This is a re-told Native American Fable;

Many years ago there was a great war between the birds and the animals. No-one knows why. It just happened. The creatures with wings flew to the battle site and made their camp. Those who had legs, walked there. Bat joined the birds. "Hey, I've got wings. So I must be a bird. And there are more of us, so we should win!" The first battle was long and hard, but gradually slashing claws and tearing teeth began to win over beaks and wings. Bat could see that the birds were losing so he hid behind a bush.

When the battle was over the animals walked back towards their camp. "Man, did we kick those birds' butts or what?" said Buffalo, spitting out a few feathers. Yeah! We kicked their butts" cried Bat in his high pitched voice. The animals stopped. "What are you doing with us?" shouted Beaver, slapping the ground hard with his big, flat tail. "You've got wings. You're with the other side." "Yeah, that's right" growled Bear. "And I'm going to eat you!" "Guys! Guys! Get Real!" said Bat, pointing into his mouth. "When have you ever seen a bird with teeth? Of course I'm one of you!" "I suppose so," grumbled Bear.

The next day there was to be another battle and Bat walked to the site with the animals. "Let's rip their beaks off!" he yelled. This time the birds flew as an army with the sun behind them, its bright light blinding the animals. Tearing talons and flapping wings tore into furry bodies. The birds were winning. Again Bat hid behind a bush. When it was all over and the birds started to fly back to their camp, Bat silently joined them.
"That was a good victory today", said Eagle. "Yeah! We kicked their butts" shouted Bat. "Hold on" said Crow. "You were with the other side." "Guys! Guys! Get Real" said Bat. "When have you ever seen an animal with wings like mine? Of course I'm one of you." He flapped his wings vigorously. "I suppose so", said Eagle.

And that's how it was in each battle. When Bat saw that the side he was on was going to lose, he pretended he was on the other side. Eventually the birds and animals got tired of fighting each other. They all came together while their Chiefs held a council of truce to decide how things would be settled. It was very difficult for Bat to pretend that he belonged to both sides. The Chiefs knew what he had done.


"Friends should always help each other and not pretend to be one thing when they are another" they said.
"Bat has wings, but he is not a bird. He has teeth, but he is not an animal. From now on, Bat will only fly at night when other birds are asleep and the animals are hunting." All the creatures nodded in agreement. "You will always be alone, Bat. You will never have a friend among the creatures that fly or from those that walk!"

And that's why Bat always flies at night and doesn't have any friends.


The End

While we all live and learn and nothing is carved in stone, I love the people that are steadfast, that can agree to disagree on minor points while standing pat on the big picture. It took me some deep soul-searching and reading and talking and listening in order to reach my decision to make the mistreatment of mothers of the EMS/BSE my primary focus. For others who don't think this issue is as important as others, I have no argument with you as long as you don't talk out of both sides of your mouth. To turn an adage on it's side, it's just as important that, once you start talking the talk, you continue to stand by your words. If you think you might have been wrong, then go your way and wish those who stick with it well.

There are all manner of people involved in the area of activism connected to adoption and loss to adoption. No one is going to see everything the exact same way. And that's what makes people and life interesting. We are not always going to be every one's cup of tea.

I might not be the most beloved person in adopto-blog land. But I still have friends.

In The Presence Of Greatness

I recently connected with an old friend and one of the pioneers for Natural Mother activism on Facebook. Sandy Musser was the first real warrior in the battle that I learned about when I reunited and came out of the fog, 17 years ago. I have a signed copy of the book at the left. I wrote a poem for Sandy while she was serving her time and she included it in her book.

Sandy is a sweet-faced grandmother. She looks like everyone's neighbor, cookie mom, and ladies who lunch. There is nothing about her demeanor to indicate the view of the system that she was a felon. There is nothing about her vision and opinions that make her a threat to anyone except those who were terrified of the loss of their control over the lives of mothers and adoptees. But, with nothing but a minor offense committed by one of her searchers, she was tried, convicted and placed in a Federal facility in Florida for six of the longest months in her life. I have a feeling that her time spent waiting for release was akin to the wait to lose her firstborn to adoption...harsh, painful and terrifying.

We don't have a lot of heroes among the active mothers. We have plenty who THINK they are leaving a legacy in the arena, but they will never measure up to Sandy, in my opinion. I doubt if any of them would be willing to do time in prison for what they believe. Sandy didn't want to. She was just as frightened, dejected and sad as any of the rest of us would be. But she never changed her views. She never folded on any of her sisters and she made it through, not without scars, but with her will to live intact. She is no longer allowed the right to help in searches, but she has written books that will always resonate with mothers of the BSE/EMS and she still supports the fight.

This happened a long time ago as the young measure years. It seems just like yesterday to me. She was indicted in 1993, after being investigated for 3 & 1/2 years. You can read more about her story at her website at .http://www.angelfire.com/fl2/musser/. It is so hard to realize that this lady was seen as such a threat that she was treated in this manner.

The government really was the loser in this one. They didn't stop searching. They just made those that search a lot smarter about how they got around the system and obtained information. Reunions are still happening every day and will probably continue. The persecution and prosecution of Sandy Musser made me realize that we are not just fighting an industry...we are fighting a government sanctioned industry. That sanction seems to originate from the erroneous idea that infant adoption will save the government money. The opposite is true.

The money that could be used to give a little family of mother and child a leg up is now given to those who adopt in the way of tax breaks and subsidies. Looks like the powers that be just transferred the funds to different pockets. These government types still seem to see every unmarried, young and/or poor mother as a future welfare queen. More's the pity. I firmly believe that the industry and the politicians and customers that support it are eventually going to have to pay the piper for their short-sightedness. Even as we BSE moms die off, the actual arena of activism is growing. One way or another, they are going to have to be dragged, probably kicking and screaming, into the society of the 21st century along with other nations, such as, say, Australia.

Sandy Musser's treatment was high-handed, arrogant and unnecessary. She didn't deserve punishment. But, for her courage, she deserves a medal.

Fighting The Good Fight

I knew that we women from the BSE/EMS have been called "pioneers," but I was really pleased when someone who reads our blogs called us "Warriors." I was reminded of Boudicca who led her Celtic/Eastern European people against the might of Rome. That was a "David and Goliath" confrontation if there ever was one.

That's what is happening with us. We are not only having to fight a large, government-sanctioned industry, but, too often, we find ourselves in wrangles with our sister moms that lead to nothing and take time and energy.

We are talking about justice and it seems that comes in small measure these days. It's hard to win and harder to keep. We had our human and civil rights abused with impunity and a surreal kind of cruelty. The fact that even our parents, who loved us, for the most part, who carried us and fed us and made sure we did our homework, were complicit in this injustice made it even harder to bear.

People still say, "Well that is just the way things were, back then." To which I will reply, " Slavery was the way things were up until the end of the Civil war. Does that make it right or just?" Blaming injustice on the social climate is ridiculous, especially when the social climate CAUSED the injustice to be perpetrated so overtly.

There are still the crude, sneering hardasses who will make reference to the fact that we didn't have to spread our legs. Most of these are the men who begged us for that leg-spreading. Most of us were in monogamous relationships, at least, in my case, on my part, many of us were raped and many had been molested over a period of years and were pregnant by family friends or family members. We were punished because their lust and disregard for our feelings, dignity and worth showed itself in the thickening of our waistlines and the withdrawal from schools, jobs, homes, as we were sent into exile. I know one mother who stayed at home, but was banished to the cellar steps whenever company arrived.

Fighting injustice, in any form, is a good fight. Even though Boudicca didn't prevail and was killed in battle, she fought the good fight and, eventually, her people formed their own nations and governments and Rome fell like a rock. We might not see any changes in our lifetime. In Australia, Origins NSW, has the government of that country on the run and it is about the mothers of their BSE. The government has issued an apology, but it has not been enough for the mothers of that country. They are still flying their full battle colors and I cheer them on.

The US was predicated on very Puritanical mores and there has never been a female head of state even though there have been many in other "less progressive" nations. I put that in quotes, because, socially, we are a reactionary laughing-stock. Hell, Boudicca was a military general in 49AD.

As long as there are those of us who will remain in battle to the ultimate conclusion, there is hope that we can bring the US and its state and federal governments to a point of, at least, examining the devastation that was wreaked, with their blessings, upon the vulnerable and the disenfranchised young, single mothers. "Unwed Mother" is a dinosaur of a phrase and concept and there is no such thing as an illegitimate child. Nature doesn't care whether or not there is a marriage. The only ones who care are those who are arrogant in their judgments and cold in their hearts.

Like it or not, this fight is not going to end. If I have to be brought to the steps of Congress in a wheel-chair and on oxygen, there will be a reckoning. I'm tired of the stigma, the stonewalling, the infighting and the nay-sayers. Do your own thing, rock on with your bad self, whatever floats your boat. But get out of our way.

If you don't like the message, take it up with your conscience.

Grudges, Hatred and The Blame Game

I recently walked into a buzz-saw and am glad to have kept all my limbs. Said buzz-saw is an adopted adult male who is very close to a cherished family member. Just mentioning the idea that this person might have been hostile towards me due to the fact that I was a mother of adoption loss started a poisonous rant against his own natural parents and several direct digs at me.

He's a BSE/EMS baby and has no compassion or empathy for his natural mother or father. He used the phrase, "they hammered me out at Woodstock" and referred to their youth (13 and 15 at Woodstock???) with derision. His anger was so intense as to be palpable and I felt both offended by him and very sad for him. I think the "facts," as he has them, were told to him by his adopters and there might have been some exaggeration on their part. Adopters have a way of doing that, sometimes. They want to be the "as if born to" Mommy and Daddy so much that they might slip in a distortion or two.

This toxic resentment is turned against himself as well as his natural parents, only he doesn't see it. He's a lot smarter than he makes himself out to be, but keeps that a secret. He's a "bad boy" and that is how it is. My family member loves him so I accept him, hostility and all. We have come to a place of peace between us, but he doesn't know how much I was able to glimpse the pain inside. He thinks he has it covered up with his anger. He is rabidly stubborn about this, so it is what it is. And he does love my dear one.

My oldest son has serious anger management issues. However, he cannot bring himself to direct that anger at me, so it goes out to anyone who gets in his way. That, of course, has caused him innumerable problems. Again, there is little I can do but love him as he is, unconditionally.

There is righteous anger at injustice and then there is malicious anger. One can be harnessed and turned into creative and productive action. The other eats away at the person who feels it until they are controlled by it.

I stopped reading at a particular forum where the resentment against natural mothers, all of us, regardless of the situation, ran like a fresh, hot lava flow. I can't subject myself to that and maintain my peace of mind, but I do worry a lot about the people on that forum and their mothers. So many hold their anger to their bosom like a beloved pet, stroking the grudge, ramping up the hatred and blaming it all on the mothers. The people whose mothers rejected them at reunion transfer their blaming to all mothers, regardless of their story, reunion status or stance on adoption.

I used to blame my father for all the bad things in my life. I hated him, held a long-term grudge and thought I was justified. I had to laugh when I grew up enough to learn that the only person hurt by my hateful grudge was me. My dad was going about his (monkey) business, blissfully uncaring of my feelings. That was a big, fat "Whoa!" for me. That's also when I first learned that hatred is not the opposite of love. It is the other side of the same coin. Indifference is the opposite of love and I obviously was not indifferent to my father.

I wonder if the young man in my family's life or any of the mud-flinging adults on that forum realize that, if they flip that coin, they are going to find the ache of love, denied. I guess it is a lot easier to be pissed from the get-go. Examining the side where the love is can be a lot like exploring a painful cavity in a tooth with your tongue. It might even call for looking inside oneself and taking responsibility for one's own feelings and actions.

Until they are able to do that, I tread warily among them. Even though I disagree with the essence of their complaint (abandonment) and feel it is, more often than not, baseless in fact, I do accept and understand, better than they know, their feelings.

I just know better than to pet a rabid dog.

Un-writing Re-written History

"The Revolution" on the History Channel was a very good, and mostly honest, telling of the war for Independence. The commander-in-chief of the continental army, George Washington, lost his last, remaining child during the last battle of the war, leaving him and his wife childless. The history books just say that the Washingtons lost their children to death. This made the man and his life more real for me, seeing it portrayed as the real human drama it was.

Ben Franklin was a womanizer of the first degree and had an illegitimate son, but no one doubted his abilities with diplomacy. He is the one who got the French to pull our fat out of the fire by playing on their hatred of the British. Meanwhile, he bedded many a willing Mademoiselle (and Madame) for his country. Thomas Jefferson, a slave owner, agonized over the wording of the Declaration of Independence. A wealthy land-owner, his financial interests were at stake as much as his ideology.

These were imperfect people, not the noble, Christian forefathers of the mythological version we were taught as schoolchildren. They wrestled over every sentence in the Declaration of Independence. Each person brought their own personal interest to the table and they were well aware that, according to the laws of Great Britain, they were committing High Treason.

This was not a unanimous decision by all the people. Many colonists still considered themselves loyal subjects of King George. Not all of these men were "churched." They were a mixture of "free-thinkers" and Theists. And their actions embroiled the colonies in a 6-year, bloody struggle in which the colonial soldiers were often unpaid, without shoes and coats in the winter, and their morale often was extremely low. Washington dealt with, at least, two mutinies in his camp that are documented in the television series. He had to deal with officers who lounged in heated comfort while the foot soldiers suffered freezing temperatures, illness and even death from the elements.

The Continental Congress and the drafting of the Constitution was even more contentious and hard-won than the Declaration of Independence. Many representatives threatened to walk out. They had to work out a way to get around slavery or the south would be lost as part of the Union. Women were not invited. The representatives were exhausted and drained when the Constitution was finally signed and published.

The Revolution was not simply a war for freedom, in the beginning, but a war to oppose oppressive financial burdens placed on the colonists by a greedy king and Parliament. It was about the economy as was the Civil War. All war seems to be, when you get down to it, all about power, acquisition of lands and riches or protecting power, land and riches and very little about ideology. Those things are often side-effects.

With both the Revolutionary War and the Civil War, it was the side-issues of personal freedom and emancipation of the slaves that became the historical standards rather than the real issues. We do pretty up our history, don't we? Just as the history of the beginnings of the nation was re-written to instill a sense of nobility to all that went on, so is the history of the BSE being revised or denied for reasons of gain, power or ego.
 
This is not something that happened two centuries ago, but something that this writer and her contemporaries lived. The image that the industry, adopters, agencies, and others have painted of the noble, heroic mother who made a "choice" is a whitewashing job of the highest degree. But people still seem to prefer to believe this mythology over the truth, just like the "America, Love It or Leave It" contingent clings to the mythology of our national genesis. The true human story, bloody, painful and heart-breaking gets lost in the re-telling.
 
If you want the truth about our national history, then talk to a dedicated historian who goes for the facts. If you want the truth about the Era of Mass Surrenders to adoption, talk to the mothers who lived it.
 
If you can stand the truth, we can tell it.

Unexpected and Unplanned..Reality Check

Ah me...how many of us have watched Martha Stewart, and all the design, cooking and other experts who make planning every little detail of our lives look doable? Ya just gotta have a plan.

And the same thing seems to permeate our culture when it comes to child-bearing. You need to have a house at least partially paid for, be established in your career and have a college fund started before you even go off the pill. So sayeth the experts in families. Yeah, right. Life is like that, now isn't it?

If every pregnancy were planned, that might be doable. But there is the little hitch that nothing is perfect and neither is birth control nor human passion. Unexpected and unplanned can be problematic in a pregnancy. But to equate that with an unwanted child is ridiculous. Only my last child was planned. The first three were not planned but, when those little ones emerged into the world from my body, they were definitely wanted..by ME, their Mother.

I am doing a bit of a follow-up on yesterday's post about money, the industry and the disparity between the way poor parents and well-off adopters are treated. Sometimes, that little tadpole and that little egg have a mind of their own. Sometimes, a young couple can get swept up in passion without proper precautions. Sometimes, those precautions fail. Not every pregnancy can get the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval for timing or be a Martha Stewart "good thing" for preparedness.

These are the pregnancies that make prey out of a mother-to-be. I know of one mom whose social wrecker sat down with her and went over some figures on raising a child to adulthood. It all comes back to the money. The fact that a young mom is not self-supporting or a young couple starting out doesn't have a big 401K should not mean that they don't deserve to raise their own child.

In ages past, all children were unexpected blessings. It is the cruel and judgmental nature of the patriarchy that put the onus on unmarried pregnancies. We should have, as a society, matured past that antiquated idea, but it seems we haven't or the adoption industry wouldn't be pulling down the big bucks.

An unexpected pregnancy, if the mother chooses to carry to term, should be an occasion for a family to draw closer, close ranks and make room at the table for one more. It's not going to kill the American tax-payer for a young mom to get WICK, ATDC and state Medicaid until she gets on her feet. And to the grandparents, how many of you were planned? The joys of being a grandparent far outweigh the work. In helping your daughter keep her child, finish her education and make something of herself for the sake of her child, you are being a real family.

A young, unmarried woman usually doesn't plan to become pregnant. Couples with dire financial woes don't just sit down and say, "Hey, let's have another kid!" But people are human with all the urges and drives and needs that are part of the human condition. To penalize these people for the fact that they are not well-to-do and that the pregnancies are unexpected is counter to everything our Constitution says. When did we become the Land of the Big Achiever and the Home of The Financially Elite? There are many horribly worse things than a simple life.

With my youngest, we were not in the greatest financial shape, but we had a home, jobs and worked hard. Why shouldn't we have had the right to have another child? Who is it that is making all these rules about who may and may not raise children?

Every time a new mother surrenders her child to adoption, I always wonder if she was offered that permanent "solution" for a temporary problem. I wonder where her family and the father of her child are in the scheme of things. I wonder if anyone who "counseled" her tried to offer her ways to keep her baby, finish her education and look to the future rather than drowning in the problems of the present. Chances are great that she will not be in the same position even a year down the line. I wonder if anyone told her that great truth, that this, too, shall pass and that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel?

Probably not. They probably wanted that womb-fresh infant too badly to give her impending motherhood a positive spin.

And that is NOT a good thing.

The God That Took Our Babies

His name is Mammon. Webster's dictionary defines "Mammon" or "Mann" as: 1) the false god of riches and avarice. 2) riches regarded as an object of worship and greedy pursuit; wealth as an evil, more or less personified.[1] Winston defines it to mean: 1) wealth, worldly gain; 2) greed for riches; cupidity.[2] Oxford defines: god of wealth, regarded as evil or immoral; 'those who worship mammon' are equivalent to greedy people who value money too highly.[3]

When we were being coerced into surrender during the EMS, one of the most potent arguments the social workers used was our financial situation. Now, I know, for a fact, that this is still used today. Even married women whose fortunes are low are trapped by this argument. In the US of A, it has become most unseemly for the poor to have children. Being poor is seen as some kind of character defect. How could a young girl, not even out of school and still living under the authority of her parents fight that argument? No one told us that there were ways to get help in some states.

I read a lot of good sense in Rickie Solingers "Wake Up Little Susie" which examined the role of race in this issue. I also asked a woman I very much loved and respected, now departed, about this and she was very forthcoming. It seems, back then, in the African American community, surrender was far less common. The way Julia put it, "We figured there was always room for one more, especially if it was blood kin." I only know a couple of African American mothers of adoption loss. Both were from families that definitely could have made room for one more. Mine would have had a tough time but they could have done it.

So our families, many of whom could have made room for one more, used shame, and the "counselors" to which we were exposed used money and our futures to back us up against the wall where we waved the white flag. And behind all that, an industry was growing, attorneys were billing hours working on finalizing adoptions, and social workers were cherishing their new, professional status and increased paychecks. Most of us were were oblivious to the social programs that might have been in effect that could have aided us until we got on our feet. When our hearts ached and our guts churned, the social worker was there with the empty promise that we would "forget" and "go on with our lives."

Years later, as a married woman with one kept child, I was still yearning for the children I had lost. I made a decision to have another child and, right away, the money arguments started coming from my family and that of my ex. We went ahead, anyway, but it made me look at what was really valued. I was watching the family and the bond between mother and child being steadily eroded and the culture of material wealth taking over.

If anyone wants a really scary look at what could happen if this culture, along with the religious right, has their way, read Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale." In this futuristic and cautionary tale, the rigid,  religious conservatives have taken over the government and infertility is a major problem. Any fertile women are assigned to the ruling class families to serve as surrogates, being impregnated by the patriarch while the matriarch held her and watched her husband for any signs of enjoyment. In the story, the ruling class women would even take to bed and simulate labor when their handmaid went into labor. The child was considered the child of the matriarch. The handmaid had done her duty and was retained or recycled to another family. The book made me shiver.

Social engineering is a real threat. The fact that, in the present day, people who are well-off are seen as "more deserving" of parenthood than a young, impecunious and/or single girl is ominous. The bond between mother and child began to lose its value during the EMS/BSE and is still being systematically eroded by the industry. Follow the money. We are seen as interchangeable and disposable by the financially elite.

The current bills being written for OBC access either dismiss the mother or place unreasonable responsibilities on her and invade her innate privacy or both. I say "innate" as opposed to the the fiction of guaranteed anonymity that is used against us and our children. Innate privacy is what should be given to every citizen of this country per our constitution. So, if we follow the money and the social engineering, we not only did not deserve to parent our children due to financial status but we do not deserve the same rights to access to records as our children or the privacy that the rest of the citizenry demands.

I also have to note that the single person, such as a celebrity, with a high income seems to have no trouble adopting. So the old idea that you have to be married is passe'. It's still about the money.

And it still breaks the hearts of mother and child.

Politics, Money and Sex

I am having the hardest the time accepting all the shucking, jiving, bobbing and weaving going on in this country. All the different issues seem to have several different factions, some working at cross-purposes to the other, others floundering in a sea of "experts."

So it seems to be with adoption reform, which is, in my mind, an oxymoron. Adoption needs to be scrapped and something more child-centered put in its place. But, to get anywhere, it seems that you have to get past the Big Three conundrums. (1) Is it politically palatable? (2) What's in  it for me$ ? (3) Is it salacious enough to use?

We no longer have Statesmen...we have politicians. And we all know where sex and money enter in to the equation with them. People don't think they really represent the voters, but I think they do watch the trends and go with what they think will keep them in office.

I have also noticed that, among the far right, we have Capitalistic Extremists. "Money makes the world go around," says the song. Although we have socialist programs already in effect in the US, the CE's will scream, "Socialism!!!" if they see any programs suggested that might help the poor, those needing healthcare, senior citizens and those nasty, old unmarried moms. One nutbar is even suggesting sending senior citizens to the front to fight the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Now THAT would help knock down that SSI deficit in a big way.

There is also the continued prurient interest of the puritanical in who sleeps with who and when and where and how. The religious right can't be bothered feeding the poor, visiting the imprisoned and tending to the sick. They are too busy sticking their noses in the nation's bedrooms. Along with the government, they would absolutely LOVE to control our sexuality. I could see them lining up to stone unmarried, pregnant women, UNLESS, of course, these sinners were acting as surrogates for the more worthy.

They are really having to put a spin on all this crap since it is no longer politically correct to place the onus of shame and blame on the single mother as it was during our era. Slick and well-worded is the direction they take. But we who have been there and done that just see that the Serpent is back in the garden and it's carrying a Bible. Christianity, American-Style, is the most unloving, intolerant institution I know and it gets its power from money and lobbying politicians so that they can regulate our sex lives. See what a snarled cord we have in place in our society?

I have a big issue with the "Crisis Pregnancy Centers" that have sprung up all over the country. This is just another version of what we went through, minus the incarceration. To be saved, you have to carry your pregnancy to term, then surrender your child. And don't think for a minute that the good people who staff these mommy-traps really care about that mother. If they did, they would be helping her keep her baby. But then, that might mean she has to accept some public assistance, at least for a little while, and we all know that Good Christians don't believe in taking care of the poorer among us because of the occasional person who takes advantage of the welfare system.

Now, isn't it funny how a post that started off about Politics, Money and Sex, found its way to the topic of Religion? No, not really. Just about every major and minor Christian sect, denomination or cult has played at social engineering and been involved in adoption.

Adoption is a big-bucks business (money), dependent upon that "abstinence only" (sex) thing and sanctioned by the government (politics). It's all fueled by the growing number of people who delay childbearing until it's too late to conceive and/or with other infertility issues and who are somehow convinced that they have a right to, are entitled to, and deserve a child more than the woman who bears that child, Adoption has all the big players in place. That "more deserving" thing comes from the religious ideas that permeate our poor nation. Notice I said Religious...not Spiritual.

My sisters and I from the BSE/EMS are fighting something that we know is huge. Sometimes, it feels like we are dragging bags of boulders up a steep hill. The going is rough and slow and frustrating, at times. But, at least we know the enemy. It comes clothed in greenbacks, filled with political corruption, wearing xray glasses to see into bedrooms and it carries a Bible.

And it is everywhere.

History Dunces

It amazes me how little our younger friends know about recent American history. I am not talking about early colonization and the Revolution, but mid-20th century realities. They tend to keep wanting to view it through the perception of today's  mores.

I think that a friend and I got the biggest laugh from a guy on Craigslist who was very blaming and wanted to know why we didn't use birth control. This was an adult asking this question and I wondered on what planet he had been living.

One more time, in the EMS, and prior, birth control was hit and miss and there was no pill, no IUD, no depo shot...nothing but condoms. Even married people did not have access to birth control until a woman named Margaret Sanger started campaigning for the rights of women to prevent pregnancy. You can read about her on Wikipedia. She died in 1966 when the idea of birth control was really getting started. A single woman, even after the pill was approved, had NO access to birth control at all for years afterwards.

Condoms, when a boy was able to get them without the pharmacist calling his parents and getting him in trouble, were not 100% effective as many of us can attest. No young girl would be caught dead going into a drug store to buy a pack of protection. This shows you just how much things have changed, both socially and scientifically, in 50 to 60 years.

People from today see the 60's as an era of peace, love, sex, drugs and rock and roll. Sorry to bust the bubble, but the "Summer of Love" didn't hit until I had been married and had a 3-year-old kept child. In small towns like mine, "hippies" were scorned and the way of the yuppie was embraced. Virginity was still prized and Doris Day was the archetype of the "wait until you are married" school of thought. I used to wonder if she frustrated Rock Hudson, but then we all know about old Rock. He was battling his own hypocritical demons. Looking back, I ache for him and others like him as I do for us. People were such blue-noses back then.

Young women were not as sophisticated as they are now. Very few of us were given more than the mere basics of sex education and the misinformation that we picked up from our peers. The boys were supposed to try to get us naked and we were supposed to control them and never get naked. It was a man's world.

Roe v Wade changed a lot of things. The right of a woman to choose her own reproductive process was an idea that was revolutionary and scary to the religious community. However, it became the law of the land in January of 1973 and the back-alley butchers were, largely, out of business. Some remained but I daresay they didn't get the business they got prior to that momentous decision. Many parents who could afford the procedure were more than willing to pay for it. By that time, I had been married for five years and we were talking about having another child. I had worn an IUD for 2 years, because I was married and could get one, and didn't have to worry about it until we were ready. I felt like a pioneer.

By the time my daughter was old enough to become pregnant, birth control had been made available to single girls, as well. and the supply of womb-fresh infants for the adoption machine fell even further. By the mid-80's, adult adopted people and mothers who had lost a child to adoption were starting to search for and find each other. I remember falling out of my chair in shock when I saw a reunion story on the Phil Donahue Show.

I was 48 and, unknown to me, a grandmother, when my daughter found me in 1993. By then, searches and reunions were making the news, regularly. My daughter and I were interviewed by the local paper. The closet doors that were shut in the middle of the 20th century were opening as the century drew to a close. Now, those of us that were swept up in that horrible thing called the EMS are fighting. We fight for recognition and justice and our children for equality and access to their own original birth certificates.

That is a short synopsis of the history of reproductive right and the days of my youth. It is a view from someone who lived it. It has all gone by so fast that I feel like I have been in a time machine. When I had my first child, there were no PC's, no cell phones, no microwaves, VCR's, CD's, DVD players or video games. People still communicated via the postal service or the expensive long distance call. Our telephones has dials on them..not buttons, and Barbie was brand-new. The Beatles were playing in cellar clubs in Europe and John Lennon had a DA, not the famous mop-top.

And girls from that time...? Well, they were either the "good (virgin)" girls or the "bad (non-virgin)" girls and never the twain would meet. It gives me great sorrow to see the conservatives and right-wing Christians of our society trying to wind the social clock backwards. The social engineering of adoption is still big business. They just have to work harder and more subtly to get those babies to the "right kind of people." The anti-choicers and the adoption industry are holding hands in the dark and getting downright chummy. It seems that the only thing they have learned from our recent history is how to get around the newest obstacles in their paths.

But, we continue to speak out and, if it makes some people less than comfortable, so be it. If it causes one young woman to change her mind and keep her baby, hooray and hallelujah. If it makes people take a closer look at one of the more shameful periods in our history, then we are doing our job.

We are teaching if anyone is up to learning.

You Can't Go Home Again

Thomas Wolfe said it and I am beginning to understand it. You can go home, but you have to take the bad memories with the good. Too often, you find that not much has changed. So the home you have in your mind and the real thing are not the same.

Don't expect, for instance, to find that minds that were closed have, miraculously, opened. Don't expect that the fundamentalist, intolerant religion that personified your community is gone. It's still there. And be prepared to find that some may not like how you have evolved into a stronger, more opinionated person. For many, that small town mindset is set in stone.

There is a cute little guy (I guess he's not little any more) who used to attend the same church my family attended. He was a teddy bear of a kid. He grew up to become well-educated and an adopter. Another old friend, someone I know went through some questionable times of her own, thinks that adoption is God's Plan. They are oblivious to the pain that causes. I don't think I should try to educate them. I don't think I CAN educate them. Open minds tend to snap shut when precious, pre-conceived notions are challenged.

I have posted about this before...about how the religious use the myth of Moses to justify adoption. They leave out the part where he was basically raised by his own mother, that he never called Ramses his brother, but he did recognize Aaron as his brother, and that he was watched over the entire time that basket floated on the Nile. As an adult, Moses returned to his people and his family and renounced his "adoptive" family and nation.

All the Egyptian princess did was keep him alive so that he could grow up in safety. And Moses' mother was trying to save his physical life. We who were coerced into surrender were not threatened by the slaughter of our babies by a tyrant. It was just shame, blame and a society that...well, basically sucked.

A friend of mine has a reunited daughter who said it best. She told her adopter that, "no matter how much time an orange spends with the apples, it's still an orange." Moses never stopped being an Israelite and the son of his real mother. It's amazing to see the traits of our families in our adult, reunited children. The bond is still there, twisted but not broken. The great experiment is not working out the way the adoption industry and the adopters hoped it would.

Something most Bible pundits ignore in the adoption debate is the fact that a great deal of importance is placed on natural heritage. Why else does anyone think that all those "begats" are in there? Our children have a right to know their heritage just like anyone else. And if it leads to reunion and a renewal of the mother/child bond, so be it.

To think that a young woman should surrender her child just because she is young, single, not well off, etc., so that her child can have "a better life," is to fail to recognize the importance of the most primal bond that was ever created...that of the mother and child. With adoption, that bond is dishonored, the mother is used as breeding stock and another child grows up with confusion. All most mothers needs is a bit of familial support and for the father to step in and take on his responsibilities. He doesn't have to marry her, but he should help support his offspring.

No one was there to help me. Like millions of other girls and young women in the EMS, I was abandoned to the tender mercies of a social experiment. Moses' real mother would have been appalled.

And the Higher Power in whom I believe just isn't that mean.

The Myth Of The Heroic Mother

My hands are empty as are my arms,

The years are lost and can never be re-lived.

Memory fades but can become sharp with sad reminders.

I was not brave,

I was terrified and alone,

With no one to see my fear and anguish.

My back was not straight and strong,

My back was against the wall.

My options were to lose my family,

Or to surrender.

And surrender was like death,

With no satisfaction for a good deed done,

Or noble tears for doing "the right thing,"

That wasn't right.

There was just loss and grief,

Smothered under stoic silence.

I did not act out of love,

But out of desperation.

Had I followed the love in my heart,

There would have been no surrender,

No missing pieces of myself,

No nightmares and depression,

No tears on birthdays and Mother's Day,

No self-hatred and no death-wish.

Those who think they know,

Don't know the inner mother.

They only see the outer bad girl.

They only want to see the fairy tale,

They don't want to witness the agony,

They don't want to believe,

That it's not part of God's plan,

For a mother to lose her child,

Just so someone else can be called "Mother."

I was not a heroine or a player in God's Great Plan.

I was a frightened girl, abandoned and alone,

Who was judged by a society,

Whose standards were unjust,

And whose methods were cruel.

God is not cruel.

Robin Westbrook (c) 6/27/2010

                                

Shouting As Fast As I Can

I spent years trying to help the younger mothers coming up behind those of us from the EMS. I posted flyers in schools and campuses offering help for mothers-to-be who wanted to keep their babies. For a while, that was my mission. I felt that, if anyone would be an expert in coercion and loss, it would be my generation. I spent hours posting on forums where a new mom-to-be was considering surrender, trying to get her to think about it and not make such a painful, life-altering decision without giving herself a chance to know her child.

It became a thankless task, to be honest. Most of the younger moms were so convinced that we older ones didn't know what we were talking about that nothing we could say would make a difference. They usually wound up in support groups after it was over and done. It finally became exhausting and was taking away from the focus I wanted to keep firmly on the EMS. That doesn't mean that I won't get my say in if I think it will help a newer mother keep her baby.

After all, the industry got its power and impetus from us, the EMS/BSE mothers, and what is happening today is a direct result of what they were able to get away with in our day. I know that there are some younger moms who are sorry they didn't listen, but, as we know, you can't change history. But, you can learn from it. There was a time when people listened to and respected their elders. They figured they had lived through more and that there might be a related experience that could help them through current condundrums.

That is one of the results I hope will come from re-visiting and outing the excesses and crimes of the EMS. Perhaps, if the industry as it began is given a thorough scrutiny, then the industry as it has become will have to do some big-time fancy dancing with the truth as the tune.

The main issue for me, though, isn't about today's mothers or open records or any of that. It is about us and how what we went through created something abominable. Because we were shut away in secret and told to stay quiet about our ordeals, we now have self-entitled "predadopters," saccharine bee-mommies and a big-bucks, child bartering business. What the industry does now with hype and propaganda, was done to us with overt, punitive and casual cruelty. Why shouldn't we want to cry foul and ask for attention? We were there first.

I care about clean bills for access to open records, especially if they include mothers, but definitely not if they penalize mothers with invasive demands for medical and psycho-social records mandated by the state. I care about the younger mothers, but I also know what I can't do and that is teach those who won't be taught. And, I care a lot more about my peers, those who suffered through the same excrement that I did and who are feeling that righteous indignation that we were treated in this manner. It is our turn.

This is not the official SMAAC site. This is my blog and I decide what I do and don't care about, here. Believe me, it all goes back to the EMS.

Tears For My Country

I have always felt, and still feel, that I live in a wonderful country. Notice, I didn't say "the greatest" nor did I say "perfect." There are many things in our history of which we can all be justifiably proud and there are many shameful mistakes from which I wish our government and power structure could learn.

If the USA were a person, I would say she is suffering from OCD and addiction. One of the hallmarks of OCD is repeating behaviors...often destructive and non-productive ones. It's insanity at its most insidious.

I still see the bumper stickers, from time to time, that state "My country, right or wrong." Sometimes I see the old one, "America. Love it or leave it." But that first truncated quote goes on to say that, "when it is right, I will support it. When it is wrong, I will work to change it." It's like the love a mother has for her children. It's unconditional, but a good mother doesn't support or enable bad or destructive behavior. She allows and encourages her children to take responsibility for their mistakes and hasty actions and to learn from the experience. Sometimes, we have to let go and leave it up to whatever Higher Power in which we believe to carry a load that we cannot.

The Serenity Prayer asks for acceptance for the things we can't change, courage to change the things we can and the wisdom to know the difference. We can't change the past. Neither I nor any group to which I am affiliated is trying to accomplish the impossible. I'm smart enough to know that, Einstein and his theories aside, time travel is not a luxury we can currently afford ourselves. But to bring attention to a massive mistake in hopes that our government can see the lesson to be learned...that I can do.

As I watch my nation's struggle and the efforts being made by the right wing to establish a state religion, legislate personal sexuality and reproduction, and to keep the power and the money in the hands of the elite, I want to cry for the image I had of America as a child. But I also know that it is good when we no longer see things as we want them to be but as they are and were. From that vision comes something I think of as the strength of America...the activism of its citizenry.

Yesterday, I wrote about Reproductive Predation. The reason so many feel entitled to engage in that behavior is because of a corrupt segment of our society who thinks it is all right to prey on the young, vulnerable and poor for their own needs. This mind-set got its start with the "perfect solution" of the post-WWII era, the BSE/EMS. Because it could be done, back then, legally and with impunity, massive numbers of young women were stripped of all autonomy and their infants. There was no "choice" involved and the methods were so punitive that they would cause gasps of horror if tried in the present day. I'm not talking about just our parents, but an entire society, government and "profession." We were fodder for the onset of a terrible social experiement that has evolved into the slick, sleek, well-funded and government-supported industry of today.

I don't know if I can do any more than hold up a mirror to our nation and hope that she sees the truth in her reflected image. If it means I need to chain myself to the White House fence, well, it's been done before. We were encouraged by subtle threats to keep silent. For decades, many of us kept our secrets and some of us only told those to whom we were close. Now we are talking, and it seems to upset many people. One would almost think they were afraid for our stories to be told in detail.

Well, the proverbial "can of worms" is opened, but instead of worms, it is releasing a bunch of gray tigers. And we're after the people who took our cubs.

What's A Reproductive Predator?

"There's a man over there, with a look of surprise, as much as to say, 'Well now how about that.'
"Do I actually see, with my own very eyes, a man that's not heard of a
....Jellicle Cat?
"What's a Jellicle Cat????"

This ran through my mind as I was reading on another forum. A woman who had adopted, asked this question in much the same way as did the characters in the musical "Cats." Affronted and disturbed, she took it quite personally. So, I will be more than happy to describe what I believe is a Reproductive Predator.

The Reproductive Predators are usually a couple with the wife mired deeply in the "give me a child lest I die" mentality. These are the PAPs who will post a page on the Internet, with a picture of themselves and all the material goods they can offer a child. They will troll the adoption support boards and will quickly and privately email any mother-to-be who is asking for support, to offer themselves as the right people for her child, before it is even born. They will violate the rules of a forum to troll for babies.

The Reproductive Predator is the nefarious author of "Dear Birthmommie" letters, expressing a desperate need for a child. I swear, if some of these folks shilled for PBS, they would have all the money they needed for programming. They will tear the heart out of you with their pitiful pleas. 

The Reproductive Predators will haunt the so-called "crisis pregnancy centers," hoping to waylay  frightened, vulnerable young women and beat out any other potential adopters. Some have even followed pregnant women they thought might be "too young" and not wearing a wedding ring through stores and malls, stalking them like a tiger, cornering them and offering their card with their attorney's number on it. I have a married, young friend who had this happen to her in, of all places, Wal-Mart.

The Reproductive Predators will love-bomb an expectant mother considering surrender, doing all in their power to make her feel sympathy for them and obligation to them. These are the PAPs that will insist on a pre-birth agreement, demand to be at every OB visit, in the labor room and to catch the baby on delivery. They will refer to the human being who is expecting as "OUR birthmother." They will agree to stipulations they have no intention of honoring in order to get the child, then they will set unreasonable boundaries or close off the agreement altogether.

The Reproductive Predators will never admit that the mother of the child they crave was in any way coerced, suffered pain and grief or should have been given the opportunity and support she needed to raise her own child. All they care about is getting a baby and the mother is nothing to them but a vessel, soon to be toast if they have their way. I have seen some of these RP's get very, very vicious when a mother would come to her senses and back out of the surrender. They honestly see themselves as more deserving. They will harass her and will have to be threatened, in some cases, with restraining orders.

Sadly, most Reproductive Predators haunt the Internet, telling all and sundry how happy and well-adjusted their acquired child is and ignoring the confusion and pain of that child. They will point fingers at natural mothers to give the impression that all of them are dope-heads and sluts, in order to make themselves look like heroic rescuers. They will heatedly insist that THEIR B****mother is "happy" about her decision and the poor kid might have convinced herself of that in order to avoid the pain of loss. And, if they are called on their duplicity, they can get very nasty. I'm talking claws and fangs, here.

So, to anyone who asks, Yes, there are Reproductive Predators. They can be found in every town in every state of the Union. If you are young and/or poor and/or single, watch out! Once they sink their claws in, you are dead meat. And RP's can be medical professionals that get a cut, an agency worker, your local DSS worker, a friendly attorney or anyone who stands to gain by taking your child.

So, mothers-to-be and mothers of infants and toddlers, I call upon you to arm yourselves with self-respect, proper support and knowledge and beware the dreaded Reproductive Predator!

I'm Cranky

This is an "up yours " kinda day. I have a procedure in the morning and I have to prep for it today. That can make a person, who wants her coffee and bagel, cranky from the get-go.

So, while I have a good crank simmering, I will address some of my favorite irritants. "Regionalism" will start me off since that got my back up a little bit, yesterday. I am a southern girl with a northern heritage. My father was from upstate NY but I spent the majority of my growing-up years in the south. I am so tired of people thinking that anyone who lives in the south, especially in the southern Appalachians, is red-necked, inbred and ignorant.

Having traveled a bit and gone to many a Northern state, I can testify that there are many rednecks everywhere in the "more enlightened than thou" states. Vermont could take the place of Georgia in "Deliverance." And go anywhere south of Springfield in Illinois and see where you are and who is there. My home town in SC happens to be home to a college that many refer to as the "Julliard of the South." And that is just one of seven institutions of higher learning.

I have gone to a few meetings and retreats where natural moms got together and a couple where adopted people were in attendance and I heard only a couple of southern drawls other than mine.The person who made up the joke that the only virgin on a southern mill hill was the six-year-old who could run the fastest has never been to MY mill hill.

From that, I will go on to the idiot adopters who answer questions on Yahoo Answers that are directed towards mothers. In fact, I also resent them speaking for us on NPR (recently) and I equally resent the industry speaking for us. We are shouting as loud as we can. Listen to US. We can speak for ourselves! In fact, you might find that many of us, including those of us from the south, are very articulate.

I resent the lies told to our children that lead them to believe that we all are cringing in fear of open records. That is so not the case. The mothers who drank the Kool Aid and are hiding behind their fear are the minority. I hate contact vetoes as much as I hate the idea of mandatory medical history forms. Neither is productive nor equitable. I have the honor of being a mother who was searched for and found by my firstborn. I also like the fact that my son registered with a search group, making it easier to be found. I represent the majority..not those pet beemommies that the industry and the ACLU trot out at every hearing of an open records bill.

I resent people who are ignorant of the era in which we gave birth and surrendered. One such idiot, yesterday, asked why we didn't use birth control. I had to control my laughter to address this one. Even married people were not given access to birth control when I got pregnant. The only thing available was condoms and in a small town, a girl or a boy didn't just walk into the corner drug store and buy a pack of Trojans. Our parents would have known before we made it back home. And abortion was not safely and legally available until the mid '70's. Read your history, Nimrod! We were controlled by our parents...something that the young people of today would find laughable.  But it is the truth.

Most of all, I resent the fact that we EMS moms are aging out of the population of mothers of adoption loss. We have an issue to address and the fact that I am having to undergo a "procedure" and see the doctor every few months for follow-ups shows that real life takes a chunk of my time. With what I have left, I write, blog, send letters to legislators, editors and anyone else I think needs to hear from me. I express my opinions in forums and I obviously scare some people because the defensiveness is rampant. But the rest of the time, I am dealing with a busy, eventful life.

I am frustrated at being so far from my kids and my sisters, especially since my sister has become so ill.

I am mildly annoyed at hit and run trolls on blogs and forums. However, I do get some entertainment from them. Anonymous cowards can be amusing.

I am very annoyed at the economy because we need to sell our house.

I am furious at BP and the likes of Rush Limbaugh and some GOP legislators. Take a look at the beach in Pensacola. This is ridiculous and scary and sickening.

OK, that's it for today. I am sure I can come up with more tirades after tomorrow. Nothing can get the annoyance flowing like a good procedure.

PS: On the upside, I don't have to put my teeth in today. Why should I when I will be inside all day and on clear liquids?  I can really look like Granny Grump.

Girls Like Me

There are worse things I could do,
Than go with a boy or two.
Even though the neighborhood,
Thinks I'm trashy, and no good,
I suppose it could be true,
But there are worse things I could do.

I could flirt with all the guys,
Smile at them and bat my eyes.
Press against them when we dance,
Make them think they stand a chance,
Then refuse to see it through.
                                           That's a thing I'd never do.

I could stay home every night,
Wait around for Mr. Right.
Take cold showers every day,
And throw my life away,
On a dream that won't come true.

I could hurt someone like me,
Out of spite or jealousy.
I don't steal and I don't lie,
But I can feel and I can cry.
A fact I'll bet you never knew.
But to cry in front of you,
That's the worse thing I could do.
 
Rizzo was my hero in "Grease." She made no bones about her passions and predilections and flaunted herself in the face of the judgmental. She kept her tears to herself. She was braver than me and less of a drama queen. I was a good girl with a bad reputation. I was naive, living in a dream world and was honestly astounded when people talked about me. What other kids did that got a fond laugh, got me in deep doo-doo.
 
I was that girl from "Happy Days" with the racy rep. Richie tried his luck with her, only to find out that, while she liked the kissing and closeness, she stopped at the heavy stuff. He ruined it anyway with the clumsy blowing in her ear. I had always loved kissing. I closed my eyes and I was Debra Paget or Elizabeth Taylor being swept away by the most handsome man in the world. I truly didn't know what was being implied when the camera panned away to the flames in the fireplace or fireworks were filling the air outside the balcony.
 
Up until my first real "in love" relationship, I was always able to stop things before they got too uncomfortable. I would always know, not what the making out was leading to, but that, suddenly, that lovely warmth in my belly would become a nervous, sinking feeling and I knew that it was time to sit up and move away. For me, the kissing was an end in itself. I honestly didn't realize that, for the guys, it was a means to an end. I knew there was something "dirty" the boys wanted to do that involved the organs "down there" but I was fortunate, to that point, that they never pushed it.
 
With my daughter's father, everything changed. We were still so wet behind the ears, but our passion was great. I was afraid to stop him because I was afraid I would lose him. I was still so frightened and guilty that I would just lie there and let him do what he wanted. I received no real pleasure from the act. In truth, I was so naive that I could not relate what we were doing to whatever it was that married people did to make babies. My resulting pregnancy came as a shock to me. By then, I was a little less naive and smart enough to be scared.
 
When Rizzo sang "There Are Worse Things I Could Do" in Grease, she was sweating out a late period. Even though she wouldn't admit it, she was terrified. So was I. If there was anything that would turn you into a pariah in my community, it would be an unmarried pregnancy. I already knew, from the casual way the boy I loved was treating me, that there was little help to come from that quarter. He had already gotten me in with a bad bunch that led to me getting in serious trouble with the law and I was labeled a juvenile delinquent when all I had done was sit in the car. Of course, Rizzo was able to announce, loudly, to her boyfriend, at the end of the movie, that she wasn't pregnant. Well, that's a Hollywood happy ending for you.
 
I cried, but I also started withdrawing, seeking out time alone. I finally had to confide in someone and seek some help. We all know what that got me. And, while living in a Home For Unwed Mothers, the tongues were wagging, including that of my boyfriend. If I thought I had a reputation before, I didn't know nuttin'! Friends were no longer allowed by their parents to have anything to do with me. Boys were constantly trying to lure me into their back seats and one wouldn't take no for an answer.
 
Peer pressure is the pits. When you feel unworthy because your peer group has pegged you as a loser, it is hard to outgrow that burden. For a few months, after I lost my second child, I think I tried to live the image I had been given. I hated it, it wasn't me, and I cut it out. Through all of this, there was a voice, deep inside me, screaming, "I Am Not A Slut!" Emotionally messed up? Hell yes. You would be too. But I was a decent person with values and ideals who just wanted someone to love and respect me.
 
It took me many years to learn that I was not what the gossip mongers had labeled me. I stopped judging my insides by everyone else's outsides and learned that there are worse things I could do. I could destroy another human being by spreading gossip, I could sit in a church pew every Sunday and practice casual character assassination outside after the service. I could do what one neighbor, who never missed a service did, and poison the neighborhood pets. I could exclude and ignore someone who really needed a friend. I could torment and tease and get a laugh out of someone who was socially clumsy. Oh yes...there were a whole lot of worse things I could do. I could be the bigot that so many in my era were. The list is endless.
 
I've done a lot of things that I am not proud of, but I am just one out of the entire human race who can say the exact same thing. I have also tried to be the best I could be, once I learned that, damn it, I was as good as anyone else. I learned to accept and even like myself and that was when my inner Rizzo emerged. And I am glad she wasn't pregnant. Many of the girls in my area who were sexually active with their boyfriends escaped the big "P." Unfortunately, they usually went on to become adopters. Rizzo wouldn't do that. I like to think that she went on to marry a man who loved her spunk and fire and lived happily ever after, with the occasional bumps that living brings.
 
Thanks, Rizzo. You give all us bad girls a good name.

Real Life Strikes Again

 

Not everything important that happens does so in the arena of activism for natural mothers or on the Internet. Real life is still going on and people are still being born, living and dying.

The picture at the left could be my sisters and me. We were stairsteps with only 14 months betweem my middle sister and me. Our baby sister came along almost 3 years after her.

We all had our distinct talents and personalities. I was sensitive, the scholar, tended to day-dream, read a lot and backed down from fights for the most part. Susan was a little spitfire, full of common sense, athletic, strong and with the singing voice of an angel. Debbie was our plump little tag-along. She was happy doing her own thing and loved animals and horses. Today, she has one of her own, leads trail rides and works in a very responsible field of healthcare. Oh, and she is no longer heavy.

Because of the disparity in our natures and the hard knocks we endured growing up, Susan and I had our differences and as we got older, the differences became more serious. When I moved to FL, I very seldom talked to her. What the problems were is no longer an issue. She hasn't changed her basic nature, but something HAS changed. Her health.

My youngest sister had been telling me that she was in bad shape but I didn't realize how bad until I spoke to her, yesterday. She couldn't sing a note if she wanted to. That beautiful voice is lost forever. Her COPD is severe. She also has other problems that make her life, as she puts it, "miserable." She is giving up and just waiting for the end.

Everyone always thought that Susan would outlast everyone. She was tough and in control. The problem is, that she was too much in control. To be a survivor, you have to be able to bend a little when a hard wind blows. When you keep standing up, rigid and straight, you break. Now she is in a position that no one who knew her would ever have expected...dependent.

I remember how she defended me against the nasty rumors when I was pregnant. I remember how she was ostracized by some fair-weather friends because of me. But she never complained. She just gave them the finger and moved on. I remember the first time I learned that, behind that "up yours" exterior was a person with feelings that could be hurt. But she was unfailingly loyal to me. I can do no less for her, now.

As we mothers of the EMS continue to age, so do our families. It becomes a juggling act, trying to deal with aging issues, illnesses, retirement plans, and adult children and also staying active in EMS Mothers' issues. It's really a no-brainer as to which should get the lion's share of our attention. The crimes against the mothers of the EMS are always going to be a fact of our history. But we don't know how long we or our family members will last.

With my sister, I am praying for a miracle and preparing for anything. Thank Heavens I remembered how much I love her.