Mothers’ Day
First
Lady Michelle Obama
The
White House
1600
Pennsylvania Avenue, NW
Washington,
DC 20500
Dear
Mrs. Obama ~~
Happy Mother’s Day!
I am a
mother who lost her child to adoption.
It was in early 1964 I found myself pregnant; the father refused to help
and abandoned me. I was afraid to tell
my family because I knew my strict, Polish-Catholic stepfather would make life
unbearable for my mother, so I approached my employer to ask for guidance, and
he referred me to an adoption agency. No
one ever gave me any hope that I could keep my baby. Not once was any suggestion other than
adoption discussed. It was understood
that I had to hide in shame and suffer for what I had done. It wasn’t until years later that I realized I
had done nothing but trust my boyfriend when he promised he loved me and would
take care of me.
The
agency found a place for me in a “wage home” in the next town over where I
lived for six months as housekeeper, cook, and babysitter for $10 a week plus
room and board. Other than friendship
with two other unwed mothers, I was alone and depressed and afraid. I had prenatal care, but nothing prepared me
for what was to happen.
On the
day I went into labor, I was unceremoniously dropped off at the hospital by my
employer’s boyfriend. I was stripped of
my clothing and possessions, placed in a windowless, empty four-bed ward and
told to stay put and not come out. How
long I was there I have no idea. There
was no clock, no phone, no radio, no visitors other than medical personnel who would
come and check my progress. No words
were spoken other than to the effect of, “Well, aren’t you proud of yourself
now? Look where your slutty ways have
landed you!” When my water broke, I
didn’t know what was happening. I went
to the door and called for help. The
nurse (a nun) came running down the hall yelling at me to “Get back in
there! There are ‘decent’ women here
having babies!” Then angrily, “Look at
this mess you’ve made!”
On the
last visit, the medic (a doctor? nurse?) decided that I was dilated
enough. I was given a shot, wheeled to
the delivery room and immediately put to sleep.
I woke up in a dark private room (there might have been restraints on my
arms – I don’t remember). I had no idea
what day it was, whether my baby was alive, healthy, was a boy or a girl. And I was told to not ask questions. I had no right to know anything about my
baby. Sometime later the candy-striper
brought the most beautiful little baby to me wrapped in a pink blanket. I thought I was dreaming! “Here,” she
said. “This is your baby.” I can still remember 46 years later all the
feelings that went through me – joy, awe,
relief, sadness, fear -- when the nun suddenly burst into my room and
literally snatched my beautiful daughter out of my arms. “You were not supposed to see this baby!”
Thankfully,
at that moment my doctor walked in (Dr. Barney Bowlin – I will bless his name
forever) and said, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, sister, let her see her baby! Let her ‘count the fingers and toes’. She’s not in any condition to run away with
her!” I am grateful for the time I got
to spend with my daughter. I was able to
whisper in her ear how much I love her and the reasons society had decreed we
could not be together. I named her
“Donna Michelle” after her father. Then
they took her away, forever, and the nun began to lecture me. “Now you must go home and get back to your
life and forget about this baby. You
will marry and have more children. Don’t
ever tell anyone, especially not a potential husband, what you’ve done because
no ‘decent’ man will want to have anything to do with you.”
When I
protested and begged for some way to keep my daughter, I was told I was being
selfish and inconsiderate. There were
married couples who could not have children, who would love my baby and provide
her with everything I could not – a good home, care, and education. With an ‘illegitimate child’ I would not be
able to find a job. “You won’t be able
to take care of yourself, let alone a baby!
You’ll have to become a waitress or ‘walk the streets’! What kind of life is that for a child?!” I was told if I wanted to keep her, I would
have to pay our entire hospital bill before I could take her from the hospital
and the charges would increase by $5 a day for every day I could not pay. If I kept my part and gave her up, the agency
would pay the bill. (In fact, I did pay
the agency back every penny. It took me over
a year, and I paid my own doctor bill, too.)
Three
days later I signed the papers in the agency office. I could not see what I was signing because my
eyes were filled with tears. I was never
given copies of anything I signed, but I do remember seeing or being told that
I would face criminal charges if I ever tried to find my daughter or interfere
in her new life. I remember begging the
social worker for some assurance that, if she wanted to know me, she would be
given information about me and be able to find me. (I found out later that many other mothers
were promised the same thing, and even advised to keep a phone listing in our
maiden names, but we came to find out it was all lies – the records were sealed
forever in all states but Kansas – and adoptees would never be legally entitled
to know their identities or ours.)
I did
try to go on with my life, but as a mother I’m sure you know how impossible it
was to forget about my baby. I moved 2,500
miles away because everywhere I went I would see happy women with babies and I
would wonder if it was my daughter they were mothering. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t
think about her. Even five years later,
my loss tainted the joy I felt when I gave birth to my precious second
daughter. Every moment of happiness was
followed by many moments of questions. I
wonder where/how Donna is. Did she
look/act the same at this age? Will we
ever see her again? I’m sure
unconsciously I clung to my second child a little too much, was too protective
and hysterical for fear I would lose her, too.
I also had a nagging sense of insecurity, low self-esteem and
self-loathing. I was a bad person. I was not worthy of anyone loving me or being
a mother because of the terrible thing I had done. It has taken many years of self-analyzing,
praying, studying, and enlightenment to realize none of that was true. In fact, I’ve probably gone overboard now and
become a super-achiever to prove them all false. Still I mourn the loss of my daughter – what
might have been -- and future generations – I was deprived of being her mother
and a grandmother to her children and perhaps even great-grandma.
Yet, I
am here to testify that, although we have been deprived of the mother-child
relationship, physically and genetically, I am her mother. I always was and will be into eternity. I am not a “birthmother”, a “first mother”,
“natural mother” or “tummy mommy” or any other qualification. I am a mother who lost her child to adoption.
So,
why am I writing to you – along with, I know, many others of my sister mothers
of loss? Because we hope you will help
us tell the world how wrong infant adoption is.
That separating mothers and babies should be a last resort and we, as
families, churches, and communities, should instead be working to help these young
women become better mothers and insisting that fathers step up to their
responsibility, as well. We need to
understand the terrible damage it will potentially cause to both the mothers
and babies, and that adoption is a permanent solution to a temporary
predicament.
We
also want to draw attention to the fact that millions of adult adoptees are
still subjected to archaic, ridiculous laws that deny them from getting their
original birth certificates, particularly poignant in President Obama’s life at
this time. Adopted persons in all but
six states are barred from knowing their original identity, their family history,
heritage, genetics, health information.
People 50, 60, 70+ years old are cruelly denied the most basic
information about their existence and told by nasty bureaucrats and politicians
that they can never know who they are or those to whom they are blood related. These laws were instigated back in the 1930s
by the infamous Georgia Tann, the woman who was charged with snatching and
selling thousands of babies and who changed the face of adoption forever, and
were designed solely to protect the adoptive families and hide the adoptee from
the stigma of illegitimacy. Now today we
are coming face to face with the awful ramifications these decades of secrecy
and lies have wrecked upon our families and society.
Finally,
we hope you will reach out to other mothers of loss who have been hiding in
fear and shame, who perhaps never told their families, or who are waiting in
silence, too timid to come forward and proclaim their motherhood. We understand. We know the experience and the remaining
years after have been painful, with terrible damage to our emotional and
physical wellbeing. There are many who
are afraid their sons and daughters are angry and resentful. “Why did you abandon me?” These adoptees don’t understand why or how
and assume it must have been because we didn’t want them. There is a lot of educating that needs to be
done about the way life was for pregnant, single girls. There are many mothers who are afraid of
“opening old wounds” and reliving the past, but we are here as testament that
it must be done for healing to begin. There
are thousands of us here to support and love them through it.
As a
search angel, I have helped about 300 families reunite over the past four
years. Here is what one of the mothers I
found wrote to me just this morning:
“I just wanted to say
thank you to you for finding me! … My love for and my bonding with [my son], I
believe, started at that conversation. Then I received a picture of him and his
wife and I was just thrilled! I recently met him in person and am very proud to
claim him as mine!
“The Christmas of 2010,
I received the best present I've ever received; the gift of a son! Not only a
son, but I have two wonderful grandchildren! So, when I say thank you, it seems
woefully inadequate. You've changed my life! I've never been happier. Thank you
for finding me!”
Fortunately,
this woman is typical of mothers of loss-in waiting. More than 95% are delighted to be found,
giving proof that the adoption industry is lying when they claim that we
mothers want to remain in anonymity and privacy.
It’s
time to blow the lid of secrecy and lies off of the adoption industry, and we
look to you as First Lady – our Nation’s leading mother – to help. Thank you for giving your time and attention
to our cause.
With sincere best wishes for you and your family,
Priscilla Sharp
Mother
of Loss ’64, Reunited ‘86
Now
Search Angel/Genealogist/Adoptee Rights Advocate
Mothers
of Loss (to Adoption) on Facebook