In the midst of our excitement, tragedy has struck. Birth Mom was killed a week ago in an accident. We were anticipating a very open adoption and had almost daily contact w/ her up until the day she died.

At 2 our daughter is too young to understand the enormity of EVERYTHING, the noble and selfless decision her mother made in allowing her to stay w/ us and the waste and tragedy of her death.

We feel very blessed that we will be able to give our daughter a very positive picture of her birth mom, but I don’t want to over do it because birthmom did make mistakes – she had 4 other children she lost custody of before she had our daughter. How do we create a healthy balance especially when she’s older? Any suggestions? Thank you

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He asked for a visit last month, which we had viewed as a positive thing since we had always wanted an open relationship (and have a very good one with our son’s maternal family). After about 30 minutes at the meeting our son’s birth father announced that he had been speaking with a lawyer and had decided he wanted his son. (Don’t bother protesting based on legalities, our situation is very unique but I can’t reveal more on that front due to confidentiality reasons. He had grounds to contest, but not due to anything that we had any part in. It was a consent adoption through the public system.)

Our world obviously crumbled right there and then. We went home, retained a lawyer and made plans to sell our home so that we could fund a protracted legal battle. A month later, it seems that our son’s birth father had never actually had a lawyer and either lost interest, realized his lifestyle wouldn’t allow him to raise a son … or who knows … The finalization is now again on track, but he has requested another visit.

Our lawyer would prefer we do not allow the visit. Our son’s social worker says we have to (though his office’s lawyer has now said we do not) … our psychologist (who we began seeing to deal with the grief and potential future loss of our son) does not think we should go ahead with the meeting … nor does he think that our son would benefit from a relationship with his birth father now or in the future.

We have always been pro openness and have a truly wonderful relationship with our son’s maternal bio family. They are part of our family and are included in family gatherings etc. We feel we need some distance from our son’s birth father right now, but are trying to find a way to let go of the trauma associated with
the last visit so that we can one day try again for some openness. I guess I don’t know if I have a real question … except maybe for “how do we forgive and heal our hearts so that we can be open to openness with him again one day.”

Thank you for your responses.

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And lastly (for now anyhow) how does a very loving and caring family who know that they are doing the right thing for the baby grieve for the loss of the child? This is going to hurt us all so much.

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The first two years were spent rehabilitating her and helping her acclimate to a healthy home environment. All the while, we maintained visits with her first mother but in neutral, casual environments. Typically after visits, I became my daughter’s punching bag, literally, for then next two days. We assumed she was acting out her anger regarding her abuse as an infant in her firstmother’s care. Unable to verbalize her emotion, it made sense so I dealt with it. More than anything, I wanted my daughter to be well.

Seven and a half years later, two things have changed. First, we no longer have visits with the children’s firstmother. Her mental health challenges make visits difficult at best and she has since married a violent man who, at our last visit three years ago, attacked me. Second, my daughter no longer violently assaults the people that love her. Instead, she screams, whines and has insane temper tantrums at everyone and everything.

Psychological intervention has done little to abate her emotional distress. Likewise with medication. To say that as a mom, I am overwhelmed by my child and grieving for the loss of what I thought would be a delightful experience in motherhood is an understatement. I have spent a lot of time crying, a lot of time being angry myself, a lot of time trying to be the best damn mother I know how for a child that often makes it clear that if I were chopped liver, she might love me more.

She wakes up screaming at me. She goes to bed doing the same. Even now, she is generally unresponsive to my attempts at physical affection. Some times I don’t bother. Some times I hug and kiss her hard, hoping she’ll receive it finally. During my trials with my daughter, it doesn’t escape me that it is because of her firstmother’s mental challenges that I know face mine. I don’t begrudge firstmom for being impaired, I begrudge the extended first family that is unwilling to acknowledge the hardships my husband and I endure on behalf of our daughter.

Firstmom is remarried to a man older than her father. They have a child together even though between the two of them and their previous partnerships, six children have been removed from their custody by the state. They elude the same fate for their youngest child by moving away every time the state opens a case in their county. By the extended first family’s own admission and by the observances of my adoption lawyers, this child is in jeopardy. All I can think about is my daughter and the heart break we have endured attempting to repair the damage. I think of the same happening to this new toddler and I grieve all over again.

Firstmom’s youngest sister, whom I’ve taught or tutored for the last six years, is graduating in two weeks. She’ll be at her sister’s party, as she should be. But there’s the rub. Will we? With the current behaviors my oldest daughter is still facing and the resultant challenges I endure as her mother, the thought of a visit makes me ill.

I feel like a back stabber and a liar and a cheat. I agreed to an open adoption, an agreement I now find myself unable to honor due to circumstances. I hear the judge’s words on adoption day in my head, “do you promise to love this child, to do your best to protect her from harm, to raise her to adulthood and beyond, do you understand and accept the challenges of parenthood, will you do everything in your power to create a loving, nurturing home for her?” I said, “I Do and I Will.”

Right now, a visit seems contrary to what I swore to under oath in a court of law before the Honorable Judge. Unfortunately, that agreement is the only legal and binding one.

I’m sorry firstmom, but our daughter must come first.

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