[teegrainca]

Oooooooh! I hate this feeling I'm having right now.... and I hope that no one here will be judgemental, but rather supportive. Perhaps some of you know where I'm coming from.

We adopted our daughter in May and chose an open adoption. We met and fell in love with my daughter's original family and believe that open adoption is what's best for our baby.

Here's the problem... it doesn't stop occassional feelings of insecurity from sneaking in. I just sent my daughter's first mom pictures of the two of them from our last visit and she called me this morning raving about them. I am happy that I can make her so happy and hope that someday my daughter will appreciate it, as well.... but there is just a feeling of insecurity that comes over me when I hear her talk about our daughter.

I was able to reason those feelings out, but just now I got a message from her birthfather saying that he posted new pictures on his myspace and there's one of our daughter with a note under it that says, "My Daughter". I almost wanted to cry when I saw it. My heart says, "SHE'S MY DAUGHTER"... even though I know that's not all there is to it. She IS my daughter... but she is their daughter too. Sometimes I find it hard to share, even at a distance.

I feel selfish and silly. I love our daughter and want her to be healthy and happy physically and emotionally... and I think we are doing our best at helping her be that by choosing an open adoption. I would never share these feelings with her birth family... I wouldn't want them to feel uncomfortable expressing themselves. I guess I just wonder if anyone else feels the way I do from time to time... and if I am going to have to fight these demons for the next... rest of my life.

I have been and remain totally committed to open adoption, even though I don't find it easy all of the time. Is there anyone who has felt the way I do? Do you have any words of advice?

[SchmennaLeigh]

We all have "selfish" moments. Don't let them get under your skin or make you feel bad. We all have them. Those that say they don't are simply lying to make themselves look better.

That said, I encourage you to journal about these emotions. On paper and away from your immediate thought process, it's sometimes easier to make heads or tails of a certain thought or emotion. Yes, she is your daughter. No one is going to change that. And while no one can blame you from feeling insecure at times, you just need to make sure that those insecurities aren't interfering with your ability to parent your little girl.

Even parents who have not adopted have insecurities. It's our job, as the parents, to make sure that we're dealing with them in an appropriate manner and not letting them take over. By coming here, you're showing that you do want to deal with it in a healthy manner.

You're going to be just fine. You're not alone. Promise.

[myheart]

Nice, Post Jenna


Tee,
I have been in an open adoption relationship since 1999. It's been a very healthy, great relationship with my sons bfamily and me. With that said, I too have had these feelings that you are speaking of. There were certain times of the month these feelings would emerge . I have found what helps me, and that is not keeping it bottled up inside. This forum is a great place to share...like Jenna mentioned journaling is a great outlet. Or if you feel you can not post about it again you are always welcomed to im me. It is very important to purge out these feelings.....in order for the healing to begin. I know, I was so afraid to share, I was afraid of being judged, but thank God for people like mom2 and Amom2 who were bold enough to share their feelings.

As for fighting these demons for the rest of your life. I think that with the evolution of your adoption they will pop their heads in from time to time, however with time you will be able to defeat them much quicker than before.

[kelceesmom]

I believe those feelings are normal. It is how you deal with them and what you do that makes the difference. It sounds like you are able to reason things out which is good. This is all new for all of you and each circumstance will be different.

[teegrainca]

Thank you all so much for your words of support. It means the world just to know that you are not the only one who has felt this way and that as long as your actions don't reflect your feelings and you can work through them, that all is well.

I am already feeling better. It's so nice to have a place like this to get it out. Most of my friends and family are not the best people to talk to about this stuff. They aren't the most supportive or understanding about open adoption and any negative feelings would feed their opinions that it's not the best way to go. I really don't need that kind of support, if you know what I mean. They mean well... this much I know.

Thanks, again!
Karen

[mumofone]

What you are feeling is perfectly normal. I felt a little insecure after adopting our first child. When he was about 9 months old, those insecurities left.

Give yourself some time to work through all of this. You are a new mom...you aren't expected to have all the answers just yet.

Take care.

[myheart]

Originally Posted by teegrainca

Thank you all so much for your words of support. It means the world just to know that you are not the only one who has felt this way and that as long as your actions don't reflect your feelings and you can work through them, that all is well

Originally Posted by teegrainca

m already feeling better. It's so nice to have a place like this to get it out. Most of my friends and family are not the best people to talk to about this stuff. They aren't the most supportive or understanding about open adoption and any negative feelings would feed their opinions that it's not the best way to go. I really don't need that kind of support, if you know what I mean. They mean well... this much I know.

Thanks, again!
Karen

I agree with you, it is nice to know that you are not alone in your feelings. It's also nice to know that these feelings are normal and they shall pass.


I am very close to my sister and share everything with her an my husband, but they truly do not understand what I am feeling or have felt. It's really nice to come to a place and share with those whom are or have experienced what I have. It's truly been healing for me.

[loveajax]

Tee, your feelings are totally normal...and the fact that you can express them is really healthy, I think.

It's so funny you wrote this today because I honestly don't have feelings/worries, etc. of jealousy. I am really happy that DD will know (and love, I hope, and presume) her birth family. But there was a post today by an adult adoptee whose birth mom wanted to be with her when she put on her wedding dress on the day of her wedding and this adoptee felt guilty about saying "no" to her birth mom. And all I could think was, "I WILL BE WITH MY DD when she gets ready for her wedding, goshdarnit!" Mind you, DD is 17 months old!!! So I too have these irrational thoughts creep in sometimes too!!

Anyway, hang in there!! I think it's great to be able to express your feelings without worrying about being judged! I always say that adoption is not for the faint of heart (for either birth or adoptive parents, obviously).

[bromanchik]

The following was written by on of my favorite adoptive mothers/friend. I think it might speak to you in a way I cannot.


Re-Connecting the Two Mothers

I must start off with an apology. In adoption so much is said about mothers - real, biological, natural, birth, adoptive, whatever - that we end up saying too little about fathers. But I am a mother, and therefore feel that my best efforts should be addressed to what I know best.

I am a mother, an adoptive mother. I am not an adoptee, nor am I a birthmother. I can only use my imagination and my abilities to listen to other people's stories to gain any understanding of what those roles must be like.

I have recently been reading Philip Pullman's book The Subtle Knife, in which the protagonist tears through the time, distance and matter separating alternative universes using a special, magic knife. I think this is an apt metaphor for adoption: after all, adoption tears apart, in no such subtle way, a child's basic relationships and images of reality. From being born into one world, one reality, the adopted child is taken and placed in another world, another reality. And we know from separated twin studies that although like-genetics produces astounding parallels, separated twins often lead very different lives. So, traditionally, has the adoptee when separated from its first or birth family. The adoptee is dropped into another world.

My seven-year-old son Jack, tells his adoption story, tells it with the full belief that he actually remembers it all happening. We know that he cannot really remember it, since he was only seven weeks old at placement, but we must believe and understand that his belief in this is based on the pain he feels over understanding this change in his life circumstances: "I've had a sad life," he says. "First, I was in the hospital with my first mom, Sophia. Then I get taken to live with my foster family and my foster mom Alice; she was very nice. But then I'm taken away from them; this strange woman that I didn't know took me on a plane, where my ears hurt. I was angry, and cried and cried. And I go to live in this family. I mean, you were very nice, but I didn't know you or Daddy."

This metaphor, the subtle knife of adoption, can be looked at another way, again from the adoptee's point of view. For along with the changing of the adoptee's life circumstances is the change that is brought to the adoptee's conception of "motherness," that is, what a mother is. Adoption's fundamental peculiarity, after all, is the severing of the basic connection between genetic motherness and parenting motherness.

I do not promote the idea that an adopted child and an adoptive mother cannot connect and bond just as well as a child with its genetically related mother. For if a child is truly loved, by its first parents previous, during and after placement; by foster parents, by adoptive parents, it is then capable of great love and attachment for multiple people.

But I must acknowledge that for many children, my son included, there is great pain knowing that he was cut away from his first mother and family, even though he (despite his dramatic statement) is a happy, well-loved, loving child.

This severing, this incision made in "motherness" brings everyone deep pain. I do not usually talk about the pain I feel in being the other mother. I don't talk about it because really, ultimately, I have gained so much joy from my children's' adoptions that it seems wrong to dwell on it. In addition, I know my pain to be minor compared to the pain that Jack's birth mother feels.

But I am going to talk about my pain here because too little that is honest is ever said about the pain experienced by adoptive parents. And what we don't talk about twists our hearts in ugly knots. It turns us into neurotic animals driven by jealousy.

I love both of my children to distraction. And there is a part of my heart that wishes, very deeply, that there was no challenge to my "motherness." That part of me wants to be the only mother. My biggest loss in adoption is the loss of singularity as a mother. I cannot regret the loss of genetically related children; how could I in the face of my two, beautiful children? But I will never be the "one and only" mother for them.

My daughter Desiree is now just three and a half. She professes no understanding of her adoptive status, and we are, at this point, lacking contact with her first family, which would help her in her understanding. Now, it is not that she isn't getting it all; I believe that she is. But she is rejecting her adoptive status out of hand, and utterly rejecting the idea of the "other mother." No, Jack might have two mothers, but she does not:

"You are my only mama," she says with great confidence. When I assure her that she does indeed, just like Jackie, have another mother. "No. I have only one mama," shaking her head firmly.

And as she says this, that part, that possessive dark part of my heart leaps with joy. Finally, my own baby, not shared, just mine... I overstate this, state this at all, because I want people to understand that the knife of adoption slashes at everybody. And we all have to understand our pain if we are going to make this strange situation work. I puzzle over how to make it work a lot. Is it possible? In the old days (and in some places, the not-so-old-days) we made it work through a series of great lies...

...to the birth parents, "Don't worry about the pain. It will stop hurting. Move on with your life and you'll be alright."

...to the adoptive parents, "Take the baby home. Love it. That's all that's necessary. It's your baby now."
...to the adoptee, "Why would you be interested in your birthparents? You will hurt your adoptive parents; they are your real parents, after all. And your birthparents - you may embarrass them, or shame them if you find them."

Most sensible people now acknowledge these statements as lies. So, we just tell each other the truth, right? Is that the way out of this? Well, yes, of course, the truth is always a good place to start. But we need something beyond that. We need acknowledgement, among ourselves, that however necessary it was to use the subtle knife of adoption, that there is great pain associated with its use for everybody.

And as we reconnect birth and adoptive families and the two mothers come face to face, we must also acknowledge that our differences make telling the truth difficult sometimes. Our ages, the families that raised us, what we do, our ethnicities, where we live...the list of our differences could go on and on.
But Jack's birthmom and I share something that reaches beyond all of those differences. We share the desire for our shared child to be happy, to be able to be more than either of us could ever be. Each of us carries half of his "motherness" in us. Neither of us is fully complete without the connection to the other. The subtle knife of adoption has cut Jack's "motherness" into two pieces. And what it really comes down to is this: his birthmom and I can allow these two pieces to remain separate, or we can bring them together for him, so he can have both.

Again, a story from Jack:
His first mom came and visited us for five days. We had searched for her, and spent over two years on the phone, working towards a face-to-face reunion. Finally, she arrived. On the morning she left, my husband and Jack drove her to the airport. On his return, Jack was in hysterical, raging tears. When he finally calmed down, in my arms, he continued to weep softly, saying, "I have two such nice mommies. Why can't they both be with me all the time?"

His birthmom and I, we must be able to reach through the tear in reality made by the subtle knife of adoption. We must reach into each other's worlds, for him, for the child. We must make the tear between our worlds big enough for him to easily pass between us. We must recognize, acknowledge between us, that he is of both of us now.

I am so grateful, for my children's sake, for their first families' sake, and ultimately, for my sake, that we live in an era where contact - normal, open, ongoing familial contact - between birth and adoptive families - is gaining the recognition it deserves. If I want my children to be whole, to have access to all parts of their backgrounds, to both parts of their "mother," then I can only believe that this is the best thing for everybody.

********************
Caroline M. Kent

[ouska]

I just wanted you to know that you are in my thoughts and in my prayers. It always helps to talk about how you are felling and know that people are here to support you.
Peggy

[bajj]

Originally Posted by SchmennaLeigh

We all have "selfish" moments. Don't let them get under your skin or make you feel bad. We all have them. Those that say they don't are simply lying to make themselves look better.

That said, I encourage you to journal about these emotions. On paper and away from your immediate thought process, it's sometimes easier to make heads or tails of a certain thought or emotion. Yes, she is your daughter. No one is going to change that. And while no one can blame you from feeling insecure at times, you just need to make sure that those insecurities aren't interfering with your ability to parent your little girl.

Even parents who have not adopted have insecurities. It's our job, as the parents, to make sure that we're dealing with them in an appropriate manner and not letting them take over. By coming here, you're showing that you do want to deal with it in a healthy manner.

You're going to be just fine. You're not alone. Promise.

This is so true! Your dd is still young and you are still adjusting to being a mother and your feelings are normal.

I can remember the first time I felt that twinge of insecurity. It was when ds was 3 and we were with his bmom and bbrothers and we took a picture of all of them together. My heart just twisted because my first thought was, "this is where he belongs." My next thought was, "no it isn't, he belongs with us." I was so confused and torn over those two conflicting emotions! I don't feel that way now, but I would imagine from time to time other doubts will arise. They do will all parents.

Big hugs! ((((((((tee)))))))))

[blessedbybug]

Originally Posted by teegrainca

Thank you all so much for your words of support. It means the world just to know that you are not the only one who has felt this way and that as long as your actions don't reflect your feelings and you can work through them, that all is well.

I am already feeling better. It's so nice to have a place like this to get it out. Most of my friends and family are not the best people to talk to about this stuff. They aren't the most supportive or understanding about open adoption and any negative feelings would feed their opinions that it's not the best way to go. I really don't need that kind of support, if you know what I mean. They mean well... this much I know.

Thanks, again!
Karen

Karen ~ you are not alone. At all. I empathize completely with having to work through these kind of feelings over and over. It's taken a really long time for me to even feel comfortable when others call my children "my children". I know they are in my heart and mind, but it's been hard not feeling disloyal (? don't know if that is really the right word??) or untruthful by calling them mine, when the fact is, I share them with someone else. I work through these feelings lots. I know I'm their Mom yet I know that I share that role, even if my children's first mothers are not overly involved at the moment. I hope they will be in the future.

As for friends understanding, that is truthfully why I come here. Most people IRL don't understand what open adoption really means and it freaks them out to think we are keeping that door open. So you do have to find alternate avenues of support.

Blessings...

[blessedbybug]

From Bromanchik:

But I am going to talk about my pain here because too little that is honest is ever said about the pain experienced by adoptive parents. And what we don't talk about twists our hearts in ugly knots. It turns us into neurotic animals driven by jealousy.

I love both of my children to distraction. And there is a part of my heart that wishes, very deeply, that there was no challenge to my "motherness." That part of me wants to be the only mother. My biggest loss in adoption is the loss of singularity as a mother. I cannot regret the loss of genetically related children; how could I in the face of my two, beautiful children? But I will never be the "one and only" mother for them.

My daughter Desiree is now just three and a half. She professes no understanding of her adoptive status, and we are, at this point, lacking contact with her first family, which would help her in her understanding. Now, it is not that she isn't getting it all; I believe that she is. But she is rejecting her adoptive status out of hand, and utterly rejecting the idea of the "other mother." No, Jack might have two mothers, but she does not:

"You are my only mama," she says with great confidence. When I assure her that she does indeed, just like Jackie, have another mother. "No. I have only one mama," shaking her head firmly.

And as she says this, that part, that possessive dark part of my heart leaps with joy. Finally, my own baby, not shared, just mine... I overstate this, state this at all, because I want people to understand that the knife of adoption slashes at everybody. And we all have to understand our pain if we are going to make this strange situation work. I puzzle over how to make it work a lot. Is it possible?

This struck a chord with me and describes the sadness I feel to the core of it, in words I've never been able to express. I wish that there was no challenge to my "motherness". Every day I wish that, but every day it is challenged. And often, the greatest challenger is... me.

I have always wanted to be a mother, and that is what sent me on this journey. Who knew the joy of being Mom to Bug and Roo would have so much pain intermingled with it. It definitely was not what I ever expected. I never expected to feel so insecure, not in my ability to parent or to care for and love my two babies deeply, wholly, unrelentingly, but in my "role" as their mother, to be called a mother when I know I wouldn't be one were it not for someone else. Who deserves that? No one. Therefore, how can it be?

And how can we make it work because it does happen? In the cases of my kids, it needed to happen as their lives would have been chaotic at best, short-lived at worst had they been through some of the difficulties their birth families have suffered since we've known them.

People say to me "well they're better off with you... they're so lucky to have you". Well... I don't feel that way at times. Mostly, because I know they have lost. Even if their lives are easier and more with us, they have lost the whole relationship that you can only have with those you are related to. I mean, I even see this in my marriage... DH and I have separate relnships with our families of origin that neither of us understand. I don't understand how he can put up with so much from them, and likewise, he can't understand how my family works. Would this be the same with bio families? I don't know... maybe I'm reading too much into all these feelings, but I want desperately to give my kids (there I said it!!!!) all that they need to be all that they are put on earth to be.

So I work hard, HARD, at keeping threads of communication open with birth families who really aren't able and/or willing to have a relationship with us. What else can I do? They are a part of us.

Well... there it is, it's out there. Don't know if anyone will read it, but I feel better for admitting it. Now to do the hard work of making these relationships work... for us, for them, but most of all, for my precious Bug and Roo.

Most sensible people now acknowledge these statements as lies. So, we just tell each other the truth, right? Is that the way out of this? Well, yes, of course, the truth is always a good place to start. But we need something beyond that. We need acknowledgement, among ourselves, that however necessary it was to use the subtle knife of adoption, that there is great pain associated with its use for everybody.

I acknowledge this... wholeheartedly. Really, we're all in this together...

And as we reconnect birth and adoptive families and the two mothers come face to face, we must also acknowledge that our differences make telling the truth difficult sometimes. Our ages, the families that raised us, what we do, our ethnicities, where we live...the list of our differences could go on and on.
But Jack's birthmom and I share something that reaches beyond all of those differences. We share the desire for our shared child to be happy, to be able to be more than either of us could ever be. Each of us carries half of his "motherness" in us. Neither of us is fully complete without the connection to the other. The subtle knife of adoption has cut Jack's "motherness" into two pieces. And what it really comes down to is this: his birthmom and I can allow these two pieces to remain separate, or we can bring them together for him, so he can have both.

All I can say is WOW. That is alot o' hard work. It takes two sides. What do you do when the other won't/can't participate in bringing the two together. I get no acknowledgement, for the most part, of my communication with them. What happens then???

[redbonec]

Teegrainca,
While open adoption can be a wonderful thing, it also has its' own dilemas to work through.
We are in an open adoption. I have had many times already when I feel insecure when I think or speak to our daughter's birthmother. We do have a great relationship, and she is so wonderful. She has two other children, with whom her relationship with them is excellent. So, many times I have already wondered if I can be as good a mom as she is.
I have wondered if our daughter is in the right place, or would she have been better with her birthmother's family. And, later, when our daughter will hopefully meet her birth-siblings, will she feel that she would rather have ben there?
I have even wondered if she has ever felt that maybe after getting to know us, she wished she would have chosen someone else. That last part stems from the fact that for a short time she had felt she would go with another couple for a while, then began exploring other options/families when she went to the agency. (This other couple are friends of ours, and a couple of the birthmother's friends were trying to get her and the other couple together. She had decided, though, that certain things she wanted she may have found in another couple, and knew that she would look at other families when she contacted the agency.)
Our daughter's birthmother has never said anything that would make me feel these things. They come from my own self. She is always glad to hear that we are enjoying our daughter so much, and she always refers to her as "your daughter", "your baby", "your girl", etc., so I don't know why I have to have these feelings.
These feelings are uncomfortable, and I don't like them either. I guess that's why I have never told anyone. This is my first time to speak about it. But, I think maybe as I feel more secure as a parent, these feelings will start to subside, I hope. I don't feel this way all the time, but like you said, the feelings of insecurities do sneak in.
I don't have any answers for you. I can only tell you that you are not alone and you do have support here.

[loveajax]

Thanks to everyone here for their candor!


One thing I can say is that my DH and his siblings are adopted. His sister had a reunion with her birth mom and she said she felt so complete. (Unfortunately, her birth mom died shortly thereafter). Every time DH's (a) mom says, "karen, when you found your mom...," Karen gets really upset and says, "MOM, YOU ARE MY MOM!!!!" I think it is important to realize that as important a role a birth mom may play in your child's life, YOU are your child's mom that most likely s/he will turn to first for support/nurturing, etc. (as it should be if you are raising a child)....I think it can be equally harmful to kids to try to "distance" yourself because of this feeling that your kid has "2 moms," etc. I frankly find that being an adoptive mom is about 99.5 percent similar to being a bio mom, but there is that small subset of "issues" (maybe I'm naive right now because DD is so small, but I know DH has said that being adopted was never a really big issue in his life).

Sorry, I am rambling, but I hope everyone can express their insecurities, but also try to find security!!