Here is my Comment on a book review posted here: http://www.amazon.com/Birthmothers-Relinquished-Babies-Adoption-Stories/product-reviews/059500637X/ref=cm_cr_dp_see_all_btm?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1&sortBy=bySubmissionDateDescending#
Yes!! You are right on! I was one of the mothers you wrote about: ” I was looking for a book where the decision was made with a heavy heart but knowing that it was the right choice…. one of the most selfless and loving things you could ever do.” Everyone who knows me well, knows that I would not have been a good parent. I took care of my baby before she was born. I thought about her health at all times, and at the advice of my doctors did not put on too much weight; exercised daily; and ate healthy food. I’m one of the birth mothers who “has no regrets,” but still feel guilt and shame because that has been heaped on me! Someone wrote a Comment to me on another blog recently, filled with hate, shrieking in her email calling me “psychotic” and other horrible names. I am a 60s birth mother. It’s sad that somehow we who made the right decision, found it a relief, but still have sadness about our former situation and decision, cannot connect with each other. I do know 4-5 women, some very good friends, who released a baby for adoption. One was already a single mother who was unable to support a third child; four had and still have mental illness. There’s a lot of controversy in the mental health community over whether a woman who has mental illness should have children. Or, what if a woman is married to an abusive, mentally ill, or criminal man? The father of my baby was a criminal, and so was his brother. I was afraid of him, and did not want him or anyone in his family in my life, which was another reason I released my baby for adoption. I went through the County services, and did not sell my baby through a lawyer, etc. I supported myself while I was pregnant by working and living with a family as a nanny, a job that was provided by the Salvation Army’s service for birthmothers in the early 1960s. My daughter found me illegally when she was 24, and I met her adoptive parents. She had a wonderful life. Her parents love her and raised her well, and had a lot of money. She had a horse, a swimming pool, a large acreage to grow up with. I’m now well aware that not all adoptees have had a good or positive home to grow up in, and this is a great tragedy. But if I had tried to raise my daughter on my own, that would have been a tragedy. In fact, I have a first cousin who tried to raise two boys, and gave them up for foster care when they were teenagers. I was afraid that was what I would go through when the child was older, if I did not release her when she was born. The County worker gave me full information about my rights, and encouraged me to hold the baby, which I did twice, and bonded with her. So I know the strong, strong feelings that a mother has for a child — it’s spiritual and biological. It’s mysterious, too. I’ve known all my life that I had had that feeling. Never had it again UNTIL I saw my 24 year old daughter walking towards me down the platform of the train station when she came to visit me. We did not get along, though. I won’t get into that much, except that she ignored me on the three occasions we met. She spent the entire time on the phone with her girlfriends. It was bizarre. She also told me, “I am NOT a narcissist!” At that point, I had never ever heard the term “narcissist” and didn’t know what it was. Is she a narcissist? Why did she make that disclaimer? I will never know.