[srchin']

Cool well celebrate together!!!!! I'll make sure I take off or swap days for that day to be off......

srchin'

[Volfe]

Okies, here's the area we artists use on Jackson Square. And I have included one 6 x 6" letter for measurement (I think its good, and some other artists think its good size).

[Ragnarok]

Bookmarking while I think.

[bromanchik]

Anyway we could get some idea of that? Is it a six by six letter on a larger piece of paper? Are we laminating?

BTW, I have a laminator and would be happy to do that.

[Volfe]

Oh mine was a 6x6 canvas with a letter painted on it...
But if someone wants to do a letter paper and ink is good too.

AND if you're writing, well I guess anywhere between 4x4" and 11 x 14 paper/ board/ ?? would be good and you could laminate too.

Maia

[dkb60]

Here's my contribution......



I have got a day it's called MOTHER'S DAY.
If I wanted another Day it would be called
QUEEN DONNA DAY.



D.

[Volfe]

How about an 18 x 20 board with writings as I mentioned in my first post, A board about searching/ or local orphanages/ and/or Searchers. And a blank board for real-life people to add to.

PS I KNOW yall are REAL... but you know what I mean...

Also, if there's something you want to write and would like to format it yourself... you can send me a Word Doc (if its a fancy font, pls send that too).

Nother Addendum: I'm not sure HAPPY is good. What do you think?

Anyway it'll look more like
HAPPY
BIRTH MOTHERS DAY

fRAME 1 FRAME 2 FRAME 3

[FauxClaud]

Here's my contribution:


Rejecting the Mantle: Birthmother No More!!

I had my first child at nineteen and, when he was two days old, I did what good intentioned, wise, selfless girls did..I put him down, ignored the tears in my eyes, the pain in my soul, and walked away. Two days later, the pleasure of my motherhood was bestowed upon another woman and my Max became Gary He was adopted as the first born child by another good intentioned, but infertile and deserving woman and her husband.

It is useless to begin to describe the feelings of a birthmother after relinquishment. I will say that there is probably no deeper pain that changes the very nature of one’s soul. It cuts deep, takes long, if ever, to heal, and one is always aware of the loss. We walk about life with a certain sadness that will not be shaken…laugh with an empty echo…cry tears that will not cease.

But, conditioned by beliefs, my own and society, I wore my pain proudly for many years. Knowing that I suffered so for the good of my baby. Comforting myself with thoughts of the parents that loved and wanted him so much, the grand life he would lead, the opportunities he deserved. I looked down on the young and “selfish” who dared to keep their children in their meager existences. I knew that I was above them in my strength, in my nobility, in my ideology, in my true selfless love.

A good birthmother I was.. Played by the rules 100%.
Giving the satisfaction of a traditional closed adoption. Never demanding, never requesting, carefully absent, didn’t falter in my decision, never blaming or regretting, patiently waiting, continuously selfless. I updated the medical records, kept myself findable should a kidney be needed, spoke warmly of the situation..always for the best.

I went on and lived my life and prospered. I married, had a child, divorced, buried my mother, bought a house, found a career, married again, had two more children. Happy and satisfied, but always wondering..always waiting…sometimes sad….someone was missing. But that was a given. It went along with the territory. It was OK that I cried every year on his birthday..it was what I expected. It is what one must do in the Birthmother’s Club.

People would ask ,
“How many children do you have?”,
and I would lie.
“I have three at home.”
Yet, in my mind would follow with the truth, the thought,
“and another somewhere else… in his home, with his family, in his life”,
but only when I felt the desire to again wear the mantle.

Sometimes I put the title of Birthmother on my shoulders for them to see, share the story, ignore the tears….it was a good thing, right? Did people think me as strong and wise for doing so..or did they think it terrible that I left my child in someone else’s’ care. Here I was, a mother to three, a good mother who clearly loves her children, yet I could do something so unthinkable as choose to give a baby up and know nothing and still dare to live. Yet live I did..for strength is really just living when no other choice is available. I lived my life, always a Birthmother, never knowing another who shared the same path as me, alone. Proud to be one even if you would never know by looking at me.

And then, I dared. I dared to find others who knew the path I walked and found them, all card carrying members of the lifelong Birthmother’s Club..all with strength and wisdom and compassion and loss. I dared to listen to the adult adoptees whom I now called my friends who spoke of the sadness and loss from not having their natural families, their identities, their heritage, their blood.
I dared to think about what I had really missed. I dared to think that my Max had missed something by not knowing me, having my constant love be a real presence in his life. I dared to see what was absent in my other children’s lives by not knowing their brother. I dared to think that maybe I could have done it..especially if I was so strong and determined and wise and also, such a good mother.

And one day..the **** burst. I dared to look.
And I found my son. Healthy and loved, the baby lost to time..a young man.
I broke the rules. Couldn’t wait anymore and wrote to him. When he realized who I was, he typed out, “Holy smokes…mom?” and with that I have begun to know my son.

The night I was driving home..knowing that in my mailbox would be the first message from him..my heart dared to feel what it could not so many years before “ My son, mine, my baby, mine, my child, mine. ” I claimed him finally.
He is remarkable. He is so clearly one of my children. He is clearly of my tribe, my family, my blood, my body. He is mine. He has another mother, another brother, another sister, another home, another life, but he also has us. He is of two worlds, two families, to homes..one life..all his.
And I am his mother. Not his Birthmother, his mother. A title I will gladly share with the woman who watched him grow, who also loves him, but I will not regulate myself anymore. Two mothers..lots of love.

I burn my membership card.
It was a rotten club. Nothing but heartache and sorrow.
I will no longer be a Birthmother.
I have four children. I know them well. I gave birth to them. I gave them life, I am part of their lives.

I am their mother.

.

[bromanchik]

Here's my contibution


A Time of Honor and Remembrance

It is no small thing to give life.

To feel the kick of tiny feet.

To know that no matter how far apart you are,

there will always be someone out there

with whom you are connected.

To be a mother is to love,

to nurture,

to care.

To be a mother means to give your children the chance to be.

Birthmothers hold a very special place in the community of mothers.

On Mother's Day especially, we deserve to be honored for all we have done for our children.

For the love we will always have for them.

For the place that is theirs alone in our hearts.

We begin by honoring each other.

For most birthmothers, Mother's Day is a day tinged with sadness and shame. Whether out of indifference or deliberate intent, family , friends and society in general often does not recognize our experience of motherhood. Many birthmothers feel that they do not have the right to be acknowledged on Mother's Day.

Each of us deals with the difficulties of Mother's Day in different ways. For some, a quiet day with sympathetic friends is most helpful, while others keep the pain and heartache of the day to themselves. A few, myself included, have come to use Mother's Day as a means of educating people, reminding others that this is a special day for birthmothers too.

A group of Seattle area birthmothers, in an effort not only to educate, but more importantly, to honor and remember, decided to create Birthmother's Day. The first gathering, on the Saturday before Mother's Day 1990, brought together birthmothers and supportive family and friends. One of the founders, Mary Jean Marsh, says that the Saturday before Mother's Day "seemed especially appropriate as our motherhood came before and foreshadows the motherhood of another."

Birthmother's Day is now commemorated all over the country. As the word spreads, more and more groups are organizing their own ceremonies. It is becoming the way for birthmothers to proclaim their motherhood, and for those who love and support then, to honor and remember their role as lifegivers.

To begin their new tradition, the birthmothers in Seattle felt that they needed to do more than simply gather together. They decided to create a ceremony that would not only give voice to their loss, but honor to the sacrifices they have made as well. It was to be a time of healing, as well as a time for respect.

Personally I have come to see that Birth Mother's day and Mother's Day honor two very different parts of my experience as a birthmother. It is a bittersweet week-end for me. So, on Saturday, I attend a Birth Mother's Day celebration so that I may have a place to acknowledge and honor the struggles, pain and on-going losses I feel connected to losing my son to adoption. On Sunday, I enjoy the Mother's Day celebrations I have with my son and his parents (as well as the children I am parenting) to honor my place as his "other mother".**

Ultimately, it is not really a question of how we celebrate and remember our experience of motherhood, but that we do it in the first place. For too long we have been silent, accepting the view that in relinquishing our rights to parent, that our experiences in giving birth, and mothering our children those first few precious days, never happened.

To be a mother is to love, to nurture, to care. Before we were ever "birthmothers" we were mothers. And we still are.* We have entered into the community of mothers by virtue of our love, by nurturing our children their first nine months of life, by caring for them enough to place them into the hands of another who could give them what we could not. Our experience of mothering, while not complete, is as valid as our children's adoptive mothers. Entrusting the adoptive mother with our role as parent does not negate all that has come before. That is what we need to remember and celebrate, in whatever way choose.

-Brenda Romanchik

[Volfe]

thanks yall

oh, PR has been sent out to local papers all around the area: Biloxi, Baton Rouge, New Orleans.

Maia

[dkb60]

We really don't have any clout until Hallmark has a card for our "holiday".

Maybe we should send Hallmark some suggestions.

D.

[Volfe]

There is a Hallmark card actually. I've not seen it however. It's in the 'trend' section of their press release this year. Ugh.

We won't really have clout until we each take a stand for ourselves and make clout. Until more ppl see us in society... until those hidden in shadows come out. And talk, and share... and then society will hear.

Personally, I think we should be in control of this 'holiday' and not agencies nor Hallmark.
This is why I am creating an outlet to 'celebrate' us. And spreading the word via PR... so others will know us. That we are proud mothers, sad mothers, happy mothers, etc.

We are showing the world, one day, one person, at a time.
Honor ourselves, Honor others. It works for me

Good day everyone (mothers and fathers and their children)
Maia

[MNelson]

Hey Maia, how about use "Celebrate Birth Mothers Day" instead of "Happy" .... as in:

CELEBRATE

BIRTH MOTHERS

DAY

(so it's celebrating both the "mothers" and the "day")


(Why is post text double spacing now for a line feed )

[Volfe]

Hrm... good idea

Hugs Plareb
Maia

[wanttobeparents]

Here's my contribution:

Heather,

We haven't heard from you, but we leave letters and pictures at the agency. Matthew is fine. He's 4 1/2 now, and doing things the doctors said he never would. He's in a regular preschool three mornings a week and loves it. He walked at 9 1/2 months and astonished the doctors that said he wouldn't walk. He eats normally and had the feeding tube taken out at 6 months. We have to watch him for choking when he stuffs his mouth too full like most kids do, but he resolves it all on his own now. He has had several surgeries and come through them all like a champ. The doctors rotated his index finger over to replace his thumb several years ago and he is using it very well. We aren't sure if he will be right or left handed yet since he is still experimenting with both. He makes beautiful pictures with either hand.

Matthew is tall for his age, and just had another growth spurt. Pants that fit last week are suddenly several inches above his shoes now. He has a head of curly light brown hair that he always says is too long. I hate to see the curls get cut. We saved some curls for you from his first haircut. He loves milkshakes and popcorn with Friday night movies. He loves trucks and construction equipment and tries to get us to go for rides looking for a construction zone. His room is decorated in Thomas the Tank Engine and cars and trucks. He wants to read, and gets frustrated looking through books because he "doesn't have the words yet!" We are starting to sound out some words, but he has another year and a half before kindergarten, so there is no rush. He is as smart as a whip! We still have one of the dogs, but lost the black and white one to an eye disease last year. Matthew misses him and talks about him often.

We adopted again in 2003, and Michael arrived home on Matthew's third birthday. Matthew adores his little brother, and misses him when Michael naps. Matthew knows that he is adopted and that Heather is his first mother. I don't think he understands yet, and probably won't until he's about 6. But you are in our prayers every night, and he asks if you are OK.

The birth defects were not your fault, Heather. I don't know if anyone ever told you that. Nothing you did caused them, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent them. Matthew has a friend his age that has the same birth defects, and his mom and I talk often. There are several mothers I know that took their vitamins and avoided things they should have, yet still had a child with the same birth defects as Matthew. He is doing great Heather. He's healthy, he's happy, he's growing, he's running, and he is perfect in every way.

I hope you are doing well. Please write through the agency and pick up the pictures and letters when you are ready to see them. We love you and think of you often. You created such a beautiful, loving child. I know he will want to meet you when you are ready.

Peggy