“Didn’t you have a baby?”
I was at the gym. A girl who knows both me and my baby’s father spotted me and said hello. Then she immediately pounced on the subject of my pregnancy.
“Well, yes.” I hesitated before mumbling, “I decided to give him for adoption.”
“Oh, Emily! I’m so sorry! If you ever want to talk, just let me know.”
After an awkward embrace, I skulked off to my Zumba class, almost in tears.
Because I hid my pregnancy from friends and most of my family, few people have confronted me about the absence of my baby. My neighbors saw me pregnant, but politely ignored the subject when I came home empty-handed.
Other birthmothers have told me, though, that they are often accosted by those who are either self-righteous or well-meaning.
“Where’s your baby?”
“How could you give away your baby? I would never do that.”
“You’re being selfish.”
“Why didn’t you just get an abortion?”
“You’re making a mistake. You will regret this later.”
Even going to the doctor can get complicated:
“How many pregnancies and how many deliveries have you had?”
“Are you breastfeeding or bottle-feeding?”
“Do you have children?”
How to answer any of these questions is a very personal choice. Wading through shame, guilt, memories, hurt, fear and anger to find my footing is so difficult. When I feel attacked, I slip into defensiveness. I bite my tongue, but to myself I think, “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Shut up and mind your own business, you ignorant idiot!”
Hearing how other birthmothers struggle to answer these questions has caused me to consider my hypothetical answers. All of them require me to disengage from caring about what other people think.
Sometimes my imagined answers are more truthful than others.
“My baby is at a friend’s house.”
“I did what I thought was best with the information I had at the time.”
“Am I breastfeeding? No, I’m not feeding my baby at all.”
In the end, I tailor my answer to the situation and the inquirer. If a medical professional is asking in reference to my health, I give direct, blunt responses. If an acquaintance is making small talk, sometimes I hold back. Other times, with full eye contact, I tell the truth just to make them uncomfortable; if they’ve bitten off more than they can chew, the conversation disintegrates.
What helps me feel secure in my truthful answers is knowing no one could make this choice for my baby but me. No one has the right to tell me what I “should” or “should not have” done, because no one else is in my position.
So when the inquisition starts, I feel confident in my answers.
What questions have you been asked about your adoption decision? How have you handled them? How did they make you feel? Share your thoughts in the comment box below.
Emily,
Such a beautiful post sharing your heart and what you’ve gone through. Thank you for the reminder to not ever assume or ask questions that might bring up emotional memories. Sometimes us humans don’t know how to ask, so we end up saying the wrong things. Empathy and silence might be the best choice of all.
Thanks for your comment, Joan! It is definitely important to be sensitive to others’ perspectives, whether we are the ones talking or listening.
Emily ~ I is for Insight. Thank you so much for allowing us to peek in on this most intimate, life-altering decision and experience. Blessings. xoA
Thanks, Annis!
Emily, This is very powerfully stated. I am proud that you are able to continue letting go of the hurt, guilt and shame of the past year. We have to continually forgive ourselves and others for our shortsighted actions and reactions.
Thanks for your comment, Aunt Norma. I’m finding it to be a process.
Thank you, Emily, for sharing with such depth of honesty and openness. SUch a post takes courage and can be so beneficial to others on either side of the conversation.