"Without a Map"

If you are a birthmother and have not read Meredith Hall's memoir "Without a Map" I highly recommend it.

http://www.meredithhall.org/

Secret Baby

I chuckled a little to myself when I read THIS.
If Ms. Bullock had concealed a pregnancy under her Oscar gown--now that would have been remarkable.
There are countless birthmothers out there whose survival depended on a well-kept secret. I was one of them.
It was easy to keep my secret under wraps, aided by the fashions of 1970.  Pantyhose had replaced stockings and garter belts, but the women in my family were still uncertain how to keep our hose from sagging.  We sometimes wore the new stretchier panty girdles over our panty hose.  These girdles were not the old-fashioned types that made one’s body appear to have been coated in cement—they were more relaxed, but still provided support.  As for dresses, there was the empire waist, wildly printed tent dresses, the A-line and the casual look of men’s shirts worn un-tucked over jeans or shorts.  An old dress shirt of my grandfather’s surfaced at my house, and I wore it constantly.  In addition to these fashion statements, I wore a school uniform for eight hours a day. A frumpy pleated skirt and a large blazer concealed a lot of things, which is the intention of a Catholic school uniform in the first place. 
No one suspected. Not at the prom at the beginning of May. Not at graduation at the end of May. Six weeks before my son was born, I went away with a tale concocted to explain my disappearance. 
A month later, I returned bereft--and concealed that too. Like so many of us did.

The Miriam Project

The ruckus over Artyom has mostly settled, but I can't stop thinking about foreign adoption.
I met a woman once--a writer. I was deeply involved in working on my birthmother memoir, and she was writing a book about the the adoption of her two children from Guatemala. We treated each other delicately when we spoke. I assumed her children were orphans.
Then came the conversation when she told me that she wanted me to know how much she appreciated birthmothers in general. "I've gone back to Guatemala to see my children's birthmother," she said. Then I think she told me that she gave her some money and that the birthmother was very poor and had other children. I couldn't quite organize anything articulate to say. I mumbled something. I'm not sure what.

I know someone else who has a child from a foreign adoption. I like him very, very much. He's honest and brave. He's sweet and smart and has had way more than his share of hurt in this life. I think he told me his child's father is still alive. I'm almost positive that's what he said, but there's something that happens to my brain during conversations like this. I can't think or hear or begin to hope to say anything smart.

Here is how I wish foreign adoptions would work in the case where the child has a birth parent who is still alive: I would call this sort of adoption The Miriam Project.
The adoptive parents would adopt the parent(s) and the child. And/or sponsor some major life-changing  event in the birthparent's life. Like education, or job training, or provide an upgrade in healthcare and living conditions so that the birthparent could take the child back after a year or two of intervention in whatever sad thing has pushed the parent to the inevitable-seeming breaking point where parting with one's child seems the only answer. I imagine the American family adopting a foreign child. Like many households, both the wife and the husband work. They need child care; they need the general support and love that all families need to survive. The birthparent(s) could be part of that support network and be supported as well. Blended families are the norm now. Why not blend in a  birthparent or two? Like Miriam taking care of her baby brother.

Of course there are the true orphans. But how do we know if there are really no family members who want them. Remember Haiti?