I have been thinking of sending my birthmother a copy of this book, The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe V. Wade. (boy, that is a mouthful) She is one of those “girls,” although she wasn’t really a girl at that time. But I think the book will really illuminate the environment during that period, and show the context of shame that shadowed her and her decisions at that time.
Because she had been interned during World War II, I sent her an excellent anthology that was edited by a friend of mine several years ago. She responded with gratitude and enthusiasm and said that it meant a lot to her.
But her internment is not a secret; she doesn’t announce it to the world, but I’m sure if someone asks her, she will say that yes, this was her experience.
Becoming pregnant and giving me up for adoption is her Number. One. Secret. I feel like she would drop this book like it was on fire if it showed up on her doorstep. But my hope is that it would also give her some solace and education, and a sense of community with these other young women.
What is my motivation for sending this? Part of me wants to give her that sense of community and not-aloneness. But I admit that part of me wants to break down her wall of denial that this happened in the first place.
What am I risking? Another total break in communication if I freak her out or upset her. Part of me feels like we don’t have much of a relationship now so I don’t have much to lose. But I still do. She is still the only living person who knows who my birthfather is. And I still hold out some crumb of hope that she might tell me while she’s alive.
Sigh. I guess I won’t be sending it. A box of chocolate instead. Double sigh.
December 4, 2006 at 4:36 pm
Hmmm, this book sounds interesting, but you’re right, it might not be a good present to her.
The really excellent anthology you mention is the book I chose to teach for one semester (instead of Joy Kogawa’s Obasan) in one of my Comp. Lit. Gen Ed. classes. Half of the readings focused on World War II from as many “angles” as possible: holocaust, bombing in Japan via the Barefoot Gen graphic novel, and the Japanese interment here. I was recently reading my student evaluations and several students mentioned that they didn’t know anything about the internment before taking the class. I learned a lot from the anthology. I hope someday I’ll have time to read all the novels/ autobiographies excerpted.
December 4, 2006 at 9:15 pm
Does she really know how you feel about being adopted or is that a “taboo” subject that is danced around? I am just curious as to what causes the fear – is it fear she will give you up again?
December 4, 2006 at 9:38 pm
LeRoy, oh, she definitely knows. We’ve had a relationship for over 26 years. And she DID “give me up” again when I asked overtly about my birthfather. She didn’t talk to me for six years.
December 5, 2006 at 5:18 am
oh man, susan, this kind of broke my heart to read. I vacillate — is part of the healing for you to be able to send her this book instead of the chocolate?? xom
December 5, 2006 at 10:57 am
Susan, I wrote a short short story in response to this post. It’s (I think) kind of intense. I posted it hereDo you like it? Hate it? A bunch of feelings about my own life came up over this post, and this story is what came out.
Linda
December 5, 2006 at 12:16 pm
Please excuse the hijacking here for a moment: Susan did like my story. Enough that I’ve moved it to a private file so I can submit it to LM. I apologize for the tease to anybody here who was kind enough to click on the link above.
Linda
December 5, 2006 at 12:58 pm
Susan, this breaks my heart so much, the way you what you want to say because of the ramifications of just speaking your truth! It seems as though the worst part of it for her is the fear of exposure. Does she live alone? Is there a way for you to send her a note (with the chocolates) that nobody else will see that says that you read the book, thought of her, and leave it delicately like that? Because your first reason to want her to have it is to help her, and not because it’s remonstrative of her. Your intents are kind.
Then again, maybe don’t listen to me. I just encouraged my sister to stand up against my parents for some of their recent behavior toward her — in the name of truth, yada yada — and they’ve responded in a very harsh and shunning way. SO my encouragement to my sister has resulted in a lot of pain, at least for the moment. Maybe it’s generational — people their age often have such a hard time with confrontation, no matter how gentle.
December 5, 2006 at 12:59 pm
Forgot the word “censor.” The way you CENSOR what you want to say…
December 6, 2006 at 3:56 am
Susan…I think your mom has some major unresolved issues over giving you up. I am sure it was a traumatic experience in her life. When you bring up the subject it probably “triggers” her back to that time and she ends up reliving it. Whether she thinks so or not, I believe seeing someone like a therapist could be helpful for her, especially if you both went together. From what you describe, it sounds like she has a hard time with empathy.
December 6, 2006 at 8:19 pm
I did a whole series on my reactions to the book, being of that era and pregnant at 17 (I parented, however.) The book was a relevation to me.
Although I have shared those posts with my daughter, I did not sent the links to my mother, although she was very much of the time and exerted so much influence over the situation I found myself in.
Here’ s the link to the last in the series that has links to all the previous posts.
http://older-parent.adoptionblogs.com/weblogs/the-1960s-the-girls-who-went-away-and-me-7
December 6, 2006 at 9:12 pm
Sandra, thank you so much for that link. Your story is absolutely riveting. (everyone, go read it!) And sad. And maddening. I agree that I think that your whole generation of women was in a terrible situation.
December 7, 2006 at 8:45 pm
I think she needs to read it, but I do not think you should send it. The ramifications of being cut off far outweigh any possible benefits in her reading the book, IMHO. What about asking her if she would like to read it?
December 12, 2006 at 1:54 pm
I loved that book. I love Ann Fessler. If you can ever see her art installations, see them! Her presentation at a recent conference moved me to primal sobs. All that being said, your mom and I are clearly different generations. Same path walked, different stones and roadblocks on the way. I would guess she would indeed drop it like it was on fire (that made me laugh, btw).
I agree with Brad. Open up the dialogue. Tell her about it. Tell her you read it. You would like to discuss it with her. If she asks to read it, hand it over.
Odd, from the opposite side of the fence, I hope someday my daughter wants to read it. While it was a story of my sisters before my loss, the same doodoo happened in 1986 when I lost my daughter.
March 8, 2008 at 7:19 am
[...] deep ambivalence, that back-and-forth, has been present for twenty eight years. A while back, I considered sendbm4.jpging her this book but I was afraid to. I’ve decided to send it today. She might see it as an attack, as a [...]
March 8, 2008 at 9:51 am
Oh Susan, that breaks my heart for you. *hugs*, friend, just *hugs*