Common human experiences create communities, cultures, friends, families and other groups of people. A camaraderie forms between those who go together through things like high school graduation, playing on a sports team, attending church, an unexpected death or tragedy, or another bond-forming event or activity.
Parenthood is one of the most universal denominators among adults. Everyone has an opinion or story, whether about their own children, their friend’s children, why people shouldn’t have children, or about their own parents. Those who are actually parents often find mutual understanding from other parents. Certain aspects of the role are accepted as truths and as normal, thereby creating a sort of “parenthood culture.”
Birthmothers are no different in this respect. A culture exists. The experiences unique to being a birthmother usually require no explanation to other birthmothers, because they are common. Examples include visits with the adoptive family and child, privacy from friends, family or others about being a birthmother, the child’s maturing understanding of his or her adoption and relationship with his or her birthmother, and lots more.
My most recent milestone as a birthmother was Dominic’s first birthday. Generally, birthmothers agree that the first year after placement is the hardest. If an event later in the child’s life triggers exceptional grief — for example, if the birthmother in a closed adoption meets her child for the first time as an adult — I have heard birthmothers compare that distress to what was experienced when the child was first adopted.
Dominic’s first birthday symbolically marks the end of this intense grieving period. I have gone through every season of one year without him, so I know generally what to expect. Robby, Marie, Neil and I tried to set reasonable expectations about how the years will proceed in regards to visits, keeping in touch, exchanging gifts and pictures, how to spend the holidays, etc.
I thought about asking to spend Dominic’s birthday with him, but I did not want to set that precedent or expectation. We attended his birthday party a week or so before his actual birthday, and to me, that was very special. Being included in the celebration with his circle of family and friends was special. I hope when he is older, he will look back on his first and many other birthdays to see that we all came together to honor him and show him our deepest love.
Neil and I spent his birthday together in one of Southern California’s iconic beach towns. We cruised bikes along the beachside pathway, took an afternoon dip in the arctic Pacific, and said “cheers” at the minute of his birth (fortunately he was born at a regular waking hour).
We FaceTimed with Dominic and Marie, too. He was sitting in his high chair, stuffing pieces of food in his mouth. He recognized that people were on the phone in front of him and interacted with us. I imitated his sounds and faces and he laughed. He picked up his little toy dirtbike after a while and brought it to life. “Vroom, vroom!”
Now that his birthday has passed, instead of thinking back on this time last year to pinpoint how far along I was in my pregnancy, I am thinking back on my healing after placement. This time last year, he was not with me. And it will likely be the same at this time next year.
In a marriage, the first year is considered “the honeymoon period.” Romantic notions paint the newlywed time with colors of bliss, peace, joy and hope. But like many married couples know, after the first year or so, monotony sets in.
“We will be together FOREVER?!”
This is how I feel about Dominic’s adoption.
“You mean I have to do this again, FOREVER?!”
But as the birthmothers who have gone before me know, I am now in my second, less grief-filled year. While the pain will always be real, it will never be as intense as it was at this time last year, when Dominic was less than a month old.
Although I miss him, I can’t imagine my life without Dominic. I love him with all my heart, and even though that brings a measure of pain, I will be his birthmother again this year and forever. That is just in the fabric of my birthmother culture.
