Mae with grandson and adoptive mom.
This is not my story. I'm sharing it with you as my eyewitness testimony that choosing life is more than gestation and delivery. This is a sensitive topic for kossacks, I know. Abortion rights and women's rights are inseparable. I say that to acknowledge upfront that this is not meant to tell anyone what to do. Those facing an unacceptable pregnancy have enough drama and trauma without pressure from outsiders adding to the heartache and heaviness of the situation. If you keep reading, let it be out of curiosity, perhaps sympathy, possibly empathy, not to pick a fight.
My dear friend from out of town is a grandmother of 3 beautiful girls. I've met each of them and fell in love. Lyric has a special ability to command my bigger-than-her puppy, Jack, to sit and stay.
Jack doesn't know he's big.
Jayla is brave and allows my pug mix, Lucy, to give her hugs and kisses.
Lucy loves to love.
Tariah prefers the dogs stay away while she plays with Legos or 'reads ' a book according to the illustrations. A real artist captures the story so well that she tells the story accurately. Tariah's mother found our oldest fluffy mix, Major, in southwest Detroit when they couldn't have a dog in their apartment. I can't imagine finding a tiny fluffy dog on the streets of Detroit and not being able to take him home. She did it anyway, but I've had him for 8 years because the landlord was serious.
Major, named after the major crisis of his lost and lonely point of origin
Anyway, Tariah's Ya-ya has been a friend of mine through thick and thin about 14 years now, my longest friendship. I had to take a break writing this to cry because I'm not good at keeping friends. My spiked drink friend came to mind so I don't have to hate myself completely. I felt really alone today but I'm not actually without friends.
Back to my lovely friend Mae: Her children are beautiful. I mean both in looks and personality. They've grown up like mine, troubled but good, hopeful but struggling. Mine haven't yet started a family so I'm borrowing other's grandkids to fill the empty nest. I love my dogs but they don't help me bake cookies and they don't tell a story while playing with the dolls and doll house.
I'm sure you'd like me to get to the point. Mae contacted me a couple weeks ago that she has a surprise grandson. She was just here visiting her son and daughter, 2 other daughters visiting too, for Christmas. Somehow one of the daughters was secretly pregnant, giving birth to Noah on New Year's eve. The sisters knew, but wow, that's skills to hide a near term pregnancy from mom. I didn't notice either, but I'm too busy talking to the girls.
A few weeks later my out of town friend sent me a photo of her surprise grandson. He's absolutely beautiful. Of course the longing hurts as I empathize with grandma about this kissable baby boy who is not available for kissing.
Noah has been with his adoptive parents for a few weeks already. It's a temporary situation legally, so we're not clear that he's with a foster family or a forever family. His mother signed power of attorney papers that suggest a short term arrangement. Who will have him once it's official? Yaya thinks he should stay in the family. Why not? Her oldest is apparently infertile and has been talking with Noah' s mom the last few months about raising him as her own. I guess that didn't sit right because mom chose a different mom when push came to shove.
RACHAEL, THE ADOPTING MOM.
Meanwhile I'm on the corner of clark and vernor holding my "stop separating families" sign. I'd really like to see kids and their parents stay together without harassment from law enforcement.
Stop separating families.
I really believe that family ties are essential for each of us. I've often said, "kids don't so much want good parents as much as they want their parents to be good. I'm not against adoption. I just don't like separation unless it's absolutely necessary.
My friend came up to visit finally, to see her grandson and say to her daughter that Noah is welcome to stay with sis and Ya-ya, don't send him away with a stranger. Birth mother has, it turns out, really strong reasoning for her choice. I see her bravery, wisdom and strength. I have no magic wand. I realize how bringing this boy to birth has created another struggle to an already struggling single mom. I still sympathize with the grandmother, but I respect mother and the conflict is above my pay grade.
Mae is so mad that I'm siding with the adoptive mom and birth mother. Am I? It seems to be the end of our friendship. I don't favor Noah's future family, especially when she tells us the new name he'll have, nothing to do with his birth name. I'm sure he'll be fine, but...
Who can promise to do it all well, let alone perfectly? Not me. Not Mae. Not mom, neither of them. I wish Noah could know how hard it is for his birth family to let him go. I'm a witness. Adoption, in an era when abortion is the quickest remedy to unplanned pregnancy, is an option. But woe to the mother who stands her ground when the rest of her family wants dibs. Is she wishing she'd just gotten an abortion so nobody would be messaging, calling, visiting in hopes of changing her mind? This all started with one picture. The snuggle is real. I supported Mae's efforts to say goodbye to her grandson. An amazing woman welcomed us into her home for over 2 hours, letting Ya-ya hold, speak to, nurture this child. I couldn't bring her again to her daughter's apartment, in the midst of a midwestern winter storm, to further confront and cajole. I witnessed this and had enough of it the day before. It's not right, I said, to bully her into changing her mind. I warned that pushing too hard might make it sever the connection between birth family and adoptive parents. Who am I to say don't go to her apartment? Okay, I'll get you to the neighborhood, but not to her door. I'm not comfortable with the way this is going and unless she says she wants to see you, I won't deliver you to her door.
Noah's mom messaged me, "don't bring my mom to my apartment, don't bring her to Rachael's." I felt so stuck! Of course I wouldn't make the trip to the adopting family's home again, but Mae insisted that I was interfering with mother -daughter relations by refusing to finish the trip to the apartment. I should know. My daughter won't hardly talk to me. I'm no expert.
The complexity of the adoption details are beyond me as I consider Noah's future. Will he know how hard it was to say good bye? Will he wish he was never born or wonder why he was given away? Who will support him as he explores his identity in the years ahead? A middle class white woman with no one who can tell her she is missing something?
Ya-ya kisses, just for one day.
I'm sharing this with you because some of you are raising grandkids, or at least supporting them. Most of you respect a woman's right to choose and know 1st or 2nd hand what that entails. It's heavy. I can hardly bear the weight and I'm not anything more than spectator. I can't imagine what it's like to be in this family, carrying the grief, wondering what if and if only. Carrying a child to term is more complicated than just giving birth. That's already a lot to carry, but the weight of adoption as an option is on another level. Who is up to such a time as this? Nobody I know.
