ADOPTION CORNER: LOVE CONQUERS ALL - by Deborah Brennan - SPRING 2011

ADOPTION CORNER

LOVE CONQUERS ALL

SPRING 2011

by Deborah Brennan

“The tie that links mother and child is of such pure and immaculate strength as to be never violated.”
– Washington Irving

Becoming a mother is one of life’s most complex experiences. It is also the most long lived, as once you have earned the title, it is yours forever. I have experienced this miracle three times. Once by giving birth, once by miscarrying and once by adoption. Each began with the same hope, anticipation and fear. I wondered what kind of mother I would be. How would I ever succeed in nurturing a baby to adulthood without failing miserably? The answer to this universal question unfolds over a lifetime and is influenced by events, people and changing attitudes. Yes, my forays into motherhood began similarly, yet they have had such dissimilar characteristics. They have woven their emotional threads over the last sixteen years of my life into a tapestry that is not yet finished but which has revealed truths I never dreamed I would discover. I am grateful for all of them.

I was 38 when our son Daniel was born. My husband and I agreed that a sibling for him was essential, and the clock was ticking – loudly. When we realized that another pregnancy for me was unlikely we focussed on adoption, more specifically domestic adoption in Canada. We first contacted our local Children's Aid Society to investigate public adoption, but we received little response after several attempts and decided to pursue a private adoption. This also made sense at the time because we hoped to be involved in an open adoption. Again, we were given very little positive feedback with regard to the likelihood of success. A couple in their forties with a biological son might be considered less than ideal by birth parents. Patience and time had begun to run out.

Against my very conservative judgement and after a very proactive “campaign”, a potential birth mother contacted us after seeing an ad which we had placed in a college newspaper. It was nothing short of extraordinary. I will never forget the first time we spoke. She was a young woman of sixteen (a girl really) facing a decision that came too soon in her life, a decision that no woman should ever have to make. I think that before we even met, the mother in me with a five-year-old son became a mother to Artrina, regardless of the outcome of her journey into motherhood. I felt empathy and compassion for her as the next four and a half months led her closer to this heart-rending decision.

During this time we visited occasionally and spoke on the phone. As her due date approached, I toured the hospital with Artrina and ensured that her social worker was being attentive to her needs. Still, I did not assume that she would place her baby with our family. Somehow I managed to remain detached from the life growing inside of her. After all, this baby was hers to love and nurture. I almost felt like an intruder, an unnatural interference in her experience.

These feelings intensified when Artrina gave birth to her tiny, perfect baby girl on September 14th, 1999. I felt so privileged to witness this miracle. Watching from a totally different perspective, it was surreal to view this event which could give Daniel a sibling and change our lives forever. I was beyond happy; ecstatic was more like it, but again, in the midst of Artrina’s family I felt like an outsider. I was a spectator, a stranger, about to take away one of their family members. They were kind and gracious, but they had every right to protest.

The emotion on that day was surpassed only on the night we carried Artrina’s baby girl home. In the hospital I asked for privacy so that Dave and I could have a few minutes alone with Artrina. I cannot adequately describe those moments of watching this young mother holding her child. It was heart breaking. I told her that if she needed more time, she had it. Diana could be in foster care instead of coming home with us. At this point, my thoughts were with our son as well. I needed to protect his readiness to welcome a new sister home.

Artrina told me that she was sure she wanted us to take her baby home. I replied, “How can you be so sure?” And as the three of us sat holding the fate of this beautiful baby in our hands and hearts, filled with emotion she answered, “Because I know I will see her again.” We stood, we embraced and wept as Artrina handed her baby to me. She walked out of the room with her mom on one side and her social worker on the other and did not look back. At that moment my pledge to Artrina was cast. I would be the best mother I could possibly be to her daughter, and I would honour our commitment to openness. It was September 17th, 1999, which would have been my mother’s 80th birthday had she lived to be a grandma to this little girl. It was an overwhelming moment of profound joy and sadness.

We walked out of the hospital room feeling as though we were kidnapping this baby. What a contrast it was to the homecoming of our son. The emotions persisted as we drove home in the same van we had used to bring Daniel home. Our little guy met us at the door, overjoyed to welcome his baby sister. I kept thinking about Artrina; she must have been feeling unbearable pain, loss and grief. That night I slept with Diana nestled on my chest. My heart was bursting with happiness for our family, but at the same time breaking for Artrina.

Artrina was in my thoughts every day as I cared for Diana. She was with me as I fed, bathed, changed, cuddled and kissed her. When Diana turned five months we held an entrustment ceremony where we formally expressed our commitment as a family to Diana and to our promise of openness. The wounds were re-opened – a heart wrenching example of the reality of a birth mother’s pain.

Those first moments, days and months with Diana were the beginning of my internal dialogue which questioned my place as her mother. Perhaps it was because I had given birth to Daniel that this weighed so heavily on my mind. Who was Diana’s mommy?

We didn’t see Artrina much in the first three years and when we did, I could see her pain, her hesitation to be physically close to Diana and a kind of indifference in her interaction with her. Artrina moved away for a few years making it more difficult to connect and I became frustrated and somewhat angry. I interpreted this as her not really caring much; I felt that she was reneging on her openness commitment. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Once I got over myself and realized that I was the one who needed to “get it”, I finally understood that Artrina was protecting herself from the agony of being separated from her child over and over again. It was a constant reminder of her decision.

As life moved forward and Diana got older spending time together slowly became more comfortable. Artrina became a mother again to a son, and this time she was able to enjoy the things that she missed with Diana. Diana has another brother now and he is a part of our family as well. It is a joy to see everyone together and satisfying to realize where we are in our journey after eleven years. Many on the outside looking in will never understand our relationship. They will question what roles we play and want to know: Who is Diana’s mother?

Is she: The one who carried and gave birth to her, and then made the agonizing choice to have others parent her?

Or the one who embraced her, cared for her and fell in love with her without hesitation?

Is she: The one who cried for her in solitude and kept her in her heart every single day while trying to move forward in her life but never forgetting her precious baby?

Or the one who read to her, kissed her boo boos and received all the compliments about her, all the while feeling unworthy to accept them?

Is she: The one who loves her from afar, who tries to say and do “the right thing” and still has to say goodbye every time she leaves her again?

Or the one who gets to experience the everyday joys and frustrations of mothering an incredible girl and who gets to be a part of a girl's stages in life that require so much of a mother’s attention?

Is she: The young woman who is a mother again and the one who will no doubt have many more years of being a mother than I?

The answer of course is that WE are Diana’s mothers and I truly feel that it is impossible to be one fully without the other. I see myself as the “Mother in a leading role” but always relying on the “supporting role of Artrina”. She can provide the missing pieces; the stability of their relationship is paramount to me personally. It comforts me to believe and hope that they will always be there for each other.

So, this multi-dimensional “motherhood” experience continues every day for me. I think it is surely the most profound human relationship that we will experience. In adoption, as mothers, there are always two of us, no matter what. Present or absent, together or apart, we must never deny that to ourselves or our children. Indeed...

“The tie that links Mother and Child is of such pure and immaculate strength as to NEVER be violated.”