My blog address has been included in the new article that I had published in Adoptive Families Mag. I want to quickly make clear a couple things that aren't in that article and that matter to me. First of all I in no way shape or form believe that adoption is some perfect option for tough times. Sometimes...many times to be with the natural parent even if times are hard is a Much better option. It is my opinion that if the adoption can not be open with all family members (natural and adoptive) concidering eachother as family than in MANY cases adoption will be very damaging to the adoptive child and not live up to the dreams an adoptive family may have had. I would be happy to dig into this deeper but I have a daughter that needs to play the flute in this room and well...I'm not going to be able to think, type and listen all at once. Please feel free to leave comments and we'll see if I can get back to being active in the field I care so much about!!
Thanks to all of you who have stayed checking in with me through out this last year that I haven't been so on top of things...and welcome any newbies that are first time visitors due to my article!!
Shannon
adoptionevolution@yahoo.com
Thursday, January 04, 2007
I GOT published!! Adoptive Families Mag.
Here is the copy and pasted version of what is pubished this month in "Adoptive Families" Mag. I don't know how to put the PDF files on here with the picture and all but here is the story!!!
Promises Kept
The time I spent alone with my newborn daughter meant a
lot. But the fact that she has grown up knowing me has
meant the world. BY SHANNON THOMPSON
I wanted to take my baby home and spend two days alone with her before she began
life with her new adoptive parents.
Everybody said it was an impossible
dream. But I found a way.
Growing up, I remember wondering who
I was, whom I looked like. I had been adopted
at birth, but my adoption was far from open.
Seventeen years later, and only two weeks
before I was due to give birth to my first
child, I made the difficult decision to place
the baby for adoption.
Determined that my
daughter would not grow
up without knowing her
birthmother, the way I
had, I thought about
what I'd need to help me
go through with an
adoption plan. I decided
that I needed time to
say my own goodbye.
Lisa and Charlie, the
couple the agency
found to be my baby's
parents, understood
this, and agreed to let
me spend two days
alone with my child.
My due date
came, and I gave
birth to an eightpound,
six-ounce girl
via Cesarean section.
Lisa and Charlie
arrived on the day of her birth. They
had driven through the night, from
Idaho to Montana, to become parents
for the first time, and I could sense
their excitement. Chariti was beautiful
and perfectly healthy from the
moment she entered the world. I was
the one who had to spend seven days in the hospital
recovering. But when I was finally ready to
go home, I didn't have to go alone.
Lisa and Charlie, who both have beautiful
voices, had been scheduled to sing at a friend's
wedding back home soon after Chariti's birth.
But when it became clear that I'd just be getting
out of the hospital on the day of the performance,
they cancelled it. They were committed
to giving me the two days I'd asked for, and
never pressured me to change the plan or cut
short my time alone with my daughter.
Goodbye, for now
The two days I spent with my baby will always
stay in my heart. But they convinced me that I
wasn't ready to be a mother.
At 17, barely able to take care
of myself, I got up every three
hours to feed, rock, and hold
this tiny baby. I felt the
weight of it all in those 48
hours. A baby would depend
on me to survive, but I did not
have the focus or strength to
meet her needs. No matter
how badly it hurt, I knew
then that an adoption was
the right thing to do.
The day finally came to
let go. I was up for most of the
night before, feeding my hungry
child. But even if Chariti
had slept soundly, I wouldn't
have been able to, because I
couldn't stop thinking about
the future. I vividly remember
the thoughts that ran
through my head: Will this
really be as open as I would
like it to be? Will Chariti hate me and feel that
adoption is a terrible thing? What if I place
this child and never have another one? This
tiny being is the only person on earth that I
know to be my own blood and bone. Is this
really going to be OK?
There was a knock on the door, and my
heart sank Still, I already loved these wonderful
I had been
adopted at
birth, but my
adoption was
far from open.
I wanted my
daughter's
experience to
be different.
people. I didn't want to hurt them by changing my mind, especially
since I knew I couldn't be the kind of parent I wanted
Chariti to have.
There were pictures and promises, tears and smiles. I was
nervous about saying goodbye, but excited for what lay ahead for
them. It struck me, at that moment, that "giving a child up" is
the wrong terminology. This adoption was not about "giving up"
anything, but about gaining an extended family.
I took our baby outside and put her in her tiny car seat. I
buckled her in, kissed her over and over, and couldn't stop
repeating, "I love you, baby...always." I hoped that, somewhere in
her nine-day-old mind, she'd remember this and understand
that I really did love her.
When Charlie shut the car door, it was as if a dam had broken.
I'd been strong until that moment, but I couldn't hold back
any longer. My tears started falling and didn't stop for hours. I
yelled, "I love you!" one last time, but I wasn't afraid that this
adoption would turn out like mine. I would know this beautiful
child, and she would know me. I was giving Chariti a life she
couldn't otherwise have, and I had faith that Lisa and Charlie
would keep me in her life. This would not be the last time she'd
hear me say that I loved her.
The car pulled away, and the first day of the rest of my
daughter's life began.
Life goes on
Years have flown by, and all the promises we made that morning
were kept. In some weeks, months, and years we have been
in closer contact than in others, but we always knew how to
reach one another. The last time we saw each other was when
our families had Thanksgiving dinner together in 2005, and
we're planning a visit for this coming spring.
Our relationship continues to evolve. Chariti and I are now
best friends on MySpace and correspond frequently. When I
think of my daughter now—16 years old, confident, beautiful—
she is everything I could have ever wanted her to be and more. I
have never regretted my decision to place her for adoption, and
I believe that's because there has been no mystery, no secrecy, no
wondering. She's known me all her life.
SHANNON THOMPSON is a freelance writer currently working on a book.
Read her blog at adoptionevolution.blogspot.com. She lives in Missoula,
Montana, and is parenting her 12-year-old daughter.
JANUARY/ FEBRUARY 2007
I couldn't stop repeating,
"I love you, baby...always."
I hoped that, somewhere
in her nine-day-old mind,
she'd understand
Promises Kept
The time I spent alone with my newborn daughter meant a
lot. But the fact that she has grown up knowing me has
meant the world. BY SHANNON THOMPSON
I wanted to take my baby home and spend two days alone with her before she began
life with her new adoptive parents.
Everybody said it was an impossible
dream. But I found a way.
Growing up, I remember wondering who
I was, whom I looked like. I had been adopted
at birth, but my adoption was far from open.
Seventeen years later, and only two weeks
before I was due to give birth to my first
child, I made the difficult decision to place
the baby for adoption.
Determined that my
daughter would not grow
up without knowing her
birthmother, the way I
had, I thought about
what I'd need to help me
go through with an
adoption plan. I decided
that I needed time to
say my own goodbye.
Lisa and Charlie, the
couple the agency
found to be my baby's
parents, understood
this, and agreed to let
me spend two days
alone with my child.
My due date
came, and I gave
birth to an eightpound,
six-ounce girl
via Cesarean section.
Lisa and Charlie
arrived on the day of her birth. They
had driven through the night, from
Idaho to Montana, to become parents
for the first time, and I could sense
their excitement. Chariti was beautiful
and perfectly healthy from the
moment she entered the world. I was
the one who had to spend seven days in the hospital
recovering. But when I was finally ready to
go home, I didn't have to go alone.
Lisa and Charlie, who both have beautiful
voices, had been scheduled to sing at a friend's
wedding back home soon after Chariti's birth.
But when it became clear that I'd just be getting
out of the hospital on the day of the performance,
they cancelled it. They were committed
to giving me the two days I'd asked for, and
never pressured me to change the plan or cut
short my time alone with my daughter.
Goodbye, for now
The two days I spent with my baby will always
stay in my heart. But they convinced me that I
wasn't ready to be a mother.
At 17, barely able to take care
of myself, I got up every three
hours to feed, rock, and hold
this tiny baby. I felt the
weight of it all in those 48
hours. A baby would depend
on me to survive, but I did not
have the focus or strength to
meet her needs. No matter
how badly it hurt, I knew
then that an adoption was
the right thing to do.
The day finally came to
let go. I was up for most of the
night before, feeding my hungry
child. But even if Chariti
had slept soundly, I wouldn't
have been able to, because I
couldn't stop thinking about
the future. I vividly remember
the thoughts that ran
through my head: Will this
really be as open as I would
like it to be? Will Chariti hate me and feel that
adoption is a terrible thing? What if I place
this child and never have another one? This
tiny being is the only person on earth that I
know to be my own blood and bone. Is this
really going to be OK?
There was a knock on the door, and my
heart sank Still, I already loved these wonderful
I had been
adopted at
birth, but my
adoption was
far from open.
I wanted my
daughter's
experience to
be different.
people. I didn't want to hurt them by changing my mind, especially
since I knew I couldn't be the kind of parent I wanted
Chariti to have.
There were pictures and promises, tears and smiles. I was
nervous about saying goodbye, but excited for what lay ahead for
them. It struck me, at that moment, that "giving a child up" is
the wrong terminology. This adoption was not about "giving up"
anything, but about gaining an extended family.
I took our baby outside and put her in her tiny car seat. I
buckled her in, kissed her over and over, and couldn't stop
repeating, "I love you, baby...always." I hoped that, somewhere in
her nine-day-old mind, she'd remember this and understand
that I really did love her.
When Charlie shut the car door, it was as if a dam had broken.
I'd been strong until that moment, but I couldn't hold back
any longer. My tears started falling and didn't stop for hours. I
yelled, "I love you!" one last time, but I wasn't afraid that this
adoption would turn out like mine. I would know this beautiful
child, and she would know me. I was giving Chariti a life she
couldn't otherwise have, and I had faith that Lisa and Charlie
would keep me in her life. This would not be the last time she'd
hear me say that I loved her.
The car pulled away, and the first day of the rest of my
daughter's life began.
Life goes on
Years have flown by, and all the promises we made that morning
were kept. In some weeks, months, and years we have been
in closer contact than in others, but we always knew how to
reach one another. The last time we saw each other was when
our families had Thanksgiving dinner together in 2005, and
we're planning a visit for this coming spring.
Our relationship continues to evolve. Chariti and I are now
best friends on MySpace and correspond frequently. When I
think of my daughter now—16 years old, confident, beautiful—
she is everything I could have ever wanted her to be and more. I
have never regretted my decision to place her for adoption, and
I believe that's because there has been no mystery, no secrecy, no
wondering. She's known me all her life.
SHANNON THOMPSON is a freelance writer currently working on a book.
Read her blog at adoptionevolution.blogspot.com. She lives in Missoula,
Montana, and is parenting her 12-year-old daughter.
JANUARY/ FEBRUARY 2007
I couldn't stop repeating,
"I love you, baby...always."
I hoped that, somewhere
in her nine-day-old mind,
she'd understand
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