A GIRL LIKE ME

There is so much confusion over what to call mothers who relinquished babies for adoption. Birthmother, first mother, natural mother. I remember the first time I tried to explain myself to someone who didn’t know me and had no connection to adoption. I said “I’m a birthmother.” She said, “does that mean you have babies for other people?” I was kind of stunned for a few seconds, then replied, “well, not on purpose!”

I guess she confused me with surrogates.

I still don’t know what to call myself, what term, makes me and everyone else comfortable. In general, I call myself a mother, say that I have a son and a stepson, and a bunch of grandchildren. That's true and usually doesn't require any further explanation, other than where they live.

When people learn that I have a book out and they ask what it’s about, I say,” It’s a memoir about reuniting with the son I gave up for adoption when I was a teenager.” I don’t have to describe myself as anything. They get it.

Lately, I’ve had occasion to speak of other mothers, like Patii Hawn, author of Good Girls Don’t. I’m reading it right now and liking it. In April we are slated to do a couple of Arizona book events together.

I’ve taken on a new descriptor when I mention Patti or Suz (her blog) or Debra (her films) and other friends, whether authors or bloggers. I say “she’s a girl like me.” Which results in puzzled looks, and then I can say, “she also lost a child to adoption.” Without have to use the b-word or any other of those loaded phrases.

The first time I said “a girl like me,” it just came flying out of my mouth, no thought behind it.

Then I realized where I got that wording. From Ann Fessler’s upcoming film: A Girl Like Her. (Ann, by the way, is an adoptee. She wrote the book, The Girls Who Went Away). Go to the film link and look at the faces. They could be any of us: good girls, with hopes and plans, who got pregnant because we were in love, and were stuck in the social mores of the times that demanded that we give up our children as penance. I’m not just talking about the Baby Scoop Era. The practice of surrendering children continued way past Roe v. Wade, and the 70s and 80s, when women had the option to abort or raise their child as a single mother. The coercion is still happening today, to fulfill the demand for babies among infertile couples.

Ann Fessler put out a call for photos a few months ago — yearbook photos from women around the time that they got pregnant and lost their children. I sent mine and am on the poster — second row from the top, fist on the left. My college freshman photo, less than a year before I got pregnant. I am honored to be there among these other women.
Poster

I think I will continue to use “a girl like me,” when I talk about others who are in the same situation. It just feels right. And it opens a discussion, without the use of those other terms, which no one understands.