Fear of Abandonment

Very short on time today but I came across the image above and went looking for more from Dr Heidi Green. Not that I found much. But I do get the concept that it isn’t just the bad stuff. It is the good stuff that could have been but couldn’t be because of having been adopted and raised by strangers instead of the family you were born into.

What I did find from Dr Green gave me the title for today’s blog –

Where does fear of abandonment come from? For most people, it comes from trauma related to early childhood relationships, especially with our primary caregivers. If you couldn’t depend on your parents to be there for you and meet all your needs (physical and emotional) as a kid, you might very well be an adult who also thinks you can’t depend on people to be there for you. This creates the anxiety-driven behaviors of codependency, people-pleasing and self-abandonment in an effort to do whatever it takes to keep others from abandoning you.

Both of my parents ended up adopted. Back in the 1930s, the child might be older than newborn. At least that was the case for my parents. My mom was probably 6 months old. My dad was 8 months old. Both of them had some period of time to be in a relationship with their original genetic mothers. I can only imagine what their baby brains interpreted when mom disappeared and a stranger took her place.

I think more so for my mom, than my dad, there was no small amount of people pleasing and I have acquired a lot of my own behavior in that regard from being my mom’s daughter. However, back to Dr Green’s point – neither of my parents could totally depend on the people raising them to be there for them. My dad even experienced more than one adoptive father and was adopted a second time and his name changed yet another time when he was much older and his adoptive mother remarried, after throwing an abusive husband out of the house.

Got to run now but I hope I can spend more time on this blog tomorrow.

Releasing Belongings

I suspect what this adoptee is dealing with is not all that unusual. Today’s story –

Have any other adoptees here experienced an increased difficulty in parting with meaningful material items? I’m in my late 30s and still have my childhood blanket and stuffed animal. The area rug from our living room when I was growing up that we called my dancing rug. I was devastated when my adoptive dad got rid of it in my twenties without offering it to me first. Those items seem to make sense as being emotionally important but I guess what I’m really asking about is other objects. For example, I have a 2007 Honda Accord that I’ve had since she only had driven 11 mi. I’m close to 190,000 now. I am dreading the day we really start to discuss replacing it. It feels like I’m abandoning it after a lifetime of taking care of me. It’s not missing it, it’s the abandoning it that I struggle with. I know that it’s only a car in my logical brain but when the day comes to leave her at the dealer, I’m going to feel like the worst person alive. I’m not talking about hoarding at all. I’m talking about specific items with a large sentimental value. This isn’t about keeping trinkets or large amounts of items, it’s about attaching an emotional connection to a less traditional personal item, like a vehicle or piece of furniture.

blogger’s note – We have a 2007 Volvo Cross-Country Stationwagon that has spent too much time at our mechanic’s. Hopefully, this last fix is more lasting. We also have a 2005 Suburban that we inherited from my deceased in-law’s. We have less trouble with that one. None of it is about attachment but rather finances.

One adoptee realizes – Oh snap, I think you may have opened a door I’ve never considered before. I have trouble getting rid of things like this as well. It’s the “took care of me part” sigh.

And another notes – I turned 30 this year and still sleep with my blankie. It’s literally falling apart but I have to have it.

One who grew up in kinship care notes – I am 31 and mine is too. I keep mine in a pillowcase to protect it. I hope, if you aren’t, then maybe it might help preserve it for you longer. Mine is just little shreds of fabric basically. It was all I had for a long time for what got to come with me.

Yet another adoptee shares – My adoptive mom threw out my blanket when I was 18, I’m still extremely sad about it (I’m 32 now). She claims “it was the size of a toonie” (slang for a two-dollar coin) but my brain remembers everything and it was still a normal size lovely blanket. I miss it so much.

Yet another adoptee says – I am the opposite, I place partial blame for this on the family that adopted me, as nearly every adult I grew up with is a hoarder. I keep next to nothing, I have a minimalist apartment, and frequently worry that because it is small, it will look cluttered. I have had conversations with my adoptive mother, where she acknowledges that she is a hoarder and she has no plans to change, so when she dies, her 4 bedroom house with a basement full of boxes of “momentos” will be left for me to clean and dig through. And how anyone can do that to their child is beyond my comprehension.

The original poster asks a question – what about big items? I actually don’t really have that many trinkets but it’s more about these big ticket items that have been with me for a long long time like my car. Do you just not form attachment to those types of items? I’m just trying to figure out how other people experience these emotions, if at all.

This is her reply – I have never felt attached to something in a way that it would hurt me if it weren’t there. If I have the opportunity to drive a safer, newer vehicle, I will always choose that as I have had to push some of my cars off 4 lane highways. If I have the opportunity to replace furniture that I know will be more comfortable or better on my body (like a mattress) I will save to be able to do that and discard the old one as soon as possible.

A mom who lost one of her children to adoption notes – I struggle with letting material things go – I lost one of my children to forced adoption. I have my other 3. I still see him, thankfully his adoptive mum is supportive and encourages his relationship with us. Anyway, I have kept everything I had bought him – a crib, changing mat, wardrobes of clothes etc. I gave it to his adoptive parents, so he would still get use of them but asked that they be returned to me once he had outgrown them. Thankfully, they respected my wishes. It’s all packed away in boxes under a bed in my house. I have a lot of paperwork from the forced adoption and I can’t look at it – I find it too triggering but I’m scared to part with it. What if he wants to see it when he’s older? It’s in boxes all over the house as there’s that much of it.

Yet another older adoptee admits – I’m not really a collector of things, I prefer not to have a lot of stuff but a few certain things I can’t part with. I still have things from childhood and I’m 58.

I found this one very sad – When I was a kid, if my parents got us anything (me and my 2 not-adopted siblings) I always got “the defective one”. This happened so many times that it became a joke that still happens to this day. Just a few months ago, my family ordered take out and when it arrived, there was nothing for me, because they forgot to ask me. My adoptive dad joked that I got the defective one again. It’s not the most hilarious joke, even when I tell it. It shouldn’t be a thing. My childhood Little Pony toy was shaved and given to the dog as a chew toy. My favorite pair of shoes that I bought with my own money from working after school jobs were thrown out by my adoptive mom because they were too ratty, in her opinion. I wonder if any of this has caused me to continue to be hanging onto things for so long now.

One adoptee responds to an insensitive remark with this truth – I am going to challenge you to flip that. Imagine being given away because you didn’t spark joy. Because for a lot of us… that is how we feel.

The original poster thanked one adoptee by saying – I needed help to advocate for myself with some of these responses from adoptive parents (blogger’s note – I have chosen NOT to share those here). In a post about abandonment and sentiment, I don’t really need to hear from the purchasers of the abandoned, who literally depended on our disposal (nice word choice there) and gained from it.

From a trans-racial adoptee – Not just meaningful items, but possessions in general. Although meaningful items are much harder. My issues were absolutely compounded by my adoptive mother often going through my room and giving away my things without my knowledge, much less consent. And never mind my adoptive parents giving away multiple pets without telling me either. So if an item was gifted to me, or has any sort of good memory attached to it, I have difficulty getting rid or disposing of it in any way.

Another trans-racial adoptee adds – I can never part with anything. I hate change. I get very attached to things.

Yet another has an odd combination of traits – I’m a minimalist but am very tied to items with sentimental value. It can be challenging.

Threats To Send Back

I don’t know why foster and adoptive parents make these cruel threats to a child who has already lost so much but sadly, it is NOT unusual. The miracle I realized when I learned about my adoptee parents (both were) was that when my teenage unwed mother became pregnant with me at 16, my dad was 18, that I was not given up for adoption. Thus, today’s story.

I was taken from my natural mother at 18 months. She was a teenage mom in the 80s. My natural mother was 16 when I was born. My natural father was 17. I was taken due to allegations of neglect. I don’t remember my natural mother. I can’t even picture her face. The only memory I have of her is sitting on the floor of the agency, and coloring with her in a coloring book. I remember putting a orange crayon up to my mouth and thinking about what color I wanted to use next and I remember her saying “No, No hunny. We don’t eat the crayons, we color with them”.

Anyways, I was in the foster care system for years, as they tried reunification, but my foster parents (later on adoptive parents) always fought it. I was always with the same foster parents, but other kids were always in and out of the house. Some for weeks and some for months. I would go to bed at night and the next morning, my foster sibling would be gone, usually reunited with their parents (I found this out later). I always cried, cause I would never see them again.

Eventually, I was adopted at the age of 6 by my foster, then adoptive parents. I never knew what it meant. I remember every February, they would throw a party, they would say it was the day they knew they’d get to keep me (I later found out February is when my natural father died in a horrible car crash at the age of 19). I eventually got 2 more adopted siblings (sisters) and thought my life was normal. But it wasn’t.

Everyday after the case workers stopped coming around (about 6 months after the adoption) my adoptive parents would threaten to send me back, if I didn’t act the way they wanted me to. If I got a bad grade in school, they would threaten me with the same. They would say I was no better than my natural mother and natural father. That I would never amount to anything in life. At 17, I ran away from them and never returned. I cut contact and have never spoken to them again. They were physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive.

At 18, I petitioned the courts for my adoption records, and my request was granted. And I found out so much. My adoptive mother was infertile, and adoption was the only way for her to have kids. They were also Christian and considered any unwed mom unfit and therefore, fought with my natural mother to keep me, because in their eyes, she couldn’t possibly raise me. They made allegations of abuse against her, said her family tried to sell me for $10,000, and that my natural mother’s younger brother tried to drown me in a pool. None of it was confirmed, but was put into the report by the social worker and used against my natural mother in court.

As for my natural father, he was gonna get custody of me until he tragically died, and my adoptive parents had fought against him every step of the way. There is much more as well, but that’s the summary.

I have never felt like I was good enough growing up and even now I still don’t. I have 2 kids now and everything I do is for them. I just want any hopeful adoptive parents and potential adoptive parents out there to know, don’t do this to any child. Even though you may get a child at a young age, they will still have memories of their natural family. And your words and actions will hurt them.

Abandoned at the Playground

Short on time today, so I am sharing this essay from LINK>Severance Magazine by Akara Skye.

My mother dropped me off at an empty public playground without a goodbye or a promise to return. I reluctantly and dutifully got out of the car. The playground and I drew a heavy sigh. We were alone together.

I shuffled over to the swing set determined to make the best of it. The hot wind kicked up, covering my face with a dusty film. For a moment, it clouded my vision, and I wondered if it might be better to not see clearly. To not see the truth of the matter; that everyone will leave me. What did I do to deserve this?

If both the mother I knew and the mother who relinquished me at birth could leave me, it would be easy for others to do the same. My birth mother didn’t come back for me, but went on to a brand new, shiny life including children, the ones she kept. Now my other mother has left me. Would she come back?

Hours passed, and the sun began to set. No other children had arrived and neither had my mother. I wondered if this would forever be my landscape. Dusty, dismal, and deserted.

I saw her car coming up the road just before dusk. I couldn’t read her face. Was it full of dread and desperation, or maybe it was full of joy and excitement? Had she done this with her other daughter, the biological one?

Put on your game face, I told myself. Act grateful. Don’t ask questions. The car rolled up. No honk, no door swinging open. I got in, and we drove off. The forever silence between us.

On the way back home, I was already worrying when, not if, this would happen again. What if she didn’t come back the next time?

I do remember another place. A happy place. I would ride my purple Schwinn bike with the flower basket and plastic streamers, to a neighbor’s backyard, two miles from my house. I was alone, yet it was my decision, so it didn’t feel like punishment. Their backyard was unfenced and sloped down to a creek. The surroundings were calm and peaceful, shaded and cool, nothing like the dusty dry playground. The breeze rustled through the leaves of the protective trees which bent over the water. The water lightly danced over the gray, brown, and white stones and pebbles. An occasional flower petal gently fell onto the sprays of water.

I was proud that I could sneak in without being detected. Little did I know that the neighbors were watching me, much like they might watch a stray cat who appeared at their back door.

Regardless, I was happy there. The place was the opposite of the disparaging playground; even though I was alone at both places. But perhaps I should get used to it. Everyone leaves.

Akara Skye is a domestic, Baby Scoop era, closed adoption, late discovery adoptee. She is estranged from her adoptive family and unacknowledged by her birth family. Skye is on the executive board of directors of AKA, LINK>Adoption Knowledge Affiliates. She hopes to increase awareness that adoption is not all pink, perfect, and polite but is layered with trauma for all involved.

A Mystery Solved Somewhat

I am fascinated by stories like this – which involve abandonment, adoption and a definite mystery. Today’s blog is courtesy of a story in The Guardian – LINK>Three abandoned children, two missing parents and a 40-year mystery by Giles Tremlett.

A two-year-old girl along with her brothers ages four and five were abandoned at the Estación de Francia, the grand railway terminus in Barcelona Spain. The children did not even know their own surnames. They knew that they had recently lived in Paris France. At first, they were taken to an orphanage in Barcelona. Three days later, they were moved to a care home for vulnerable children in the center of the city.

A few weeks later, in May, an educational psychologist named Marisa Manera saw a photograph of Elvira and her brothers pinned to a board in a district office of Barcelona’s social services. “We are seeking information on these three children,” read an accompanying note. A business card with the care home’s number was pinned to it. Marisa and her husband, a teacher named Lluís Moral, had fostered children before, and they offered the three siblings a temporary home. The children moved in at the end of June.

In 1986, Marisa and Lluís formally adopted Elvira and her brothers, giving them the surnames Moral Manera (Spaniards receive one from each parent). “They got the three-kid family they had always wanted,” Elvira, now a slender 41-year-old woman with dark eyes, dyed silver hair and a chevron tattoo on one knuckle, told me. This was shared good fortune, since the children enjoyed a happy, loving a middle-class childhood in an apartment in Barcelona.

Elvira developed a firm conviction that character is formed more overwhelmingly by nurture, rather than nature. In 2014, Elvira had a son with her partner, Marco. During her pregnancy, Elvira started to feel unsettled by how little she knew about her biological family. In December 2020, she made an attempt to answer her questions with a MyHeritage DNA test. Yet, answers proved elusive.

In March 2021, Elvira was interviewed by Catalan radio station, RAC-1, for an early-evening talkshow, Islàndia. Many people responded but it was hard to judge who was trustworthy and who was not. She came to rely on a new friend, Montse Del Río, a 51-year-old forensic doctor who had heard her story on the radio. Another volunteer, a French-speaking 54-year-old amateur criminologist called Carmen Pastor, made the first breakthrough two months after the radio broadcast.

By the evening, Carmen had the information she needed. “I’ve just spoken to your second cousin. She explained that there were three missing children, and that the eldest was called Ramón.” Her father was also called Ramón and her mother Rosario. They were Spaniards, from Seville and Madrid. Elvira always thought her parents were French.

During a video chat with her “discovered” relatives, a photograph of an elderly woman was held up. It was their grandmother Inés, who had died in 2013. Photos the man and woman turned out to be who their parents were. For the first time since she was a toddler, Elvira was looking at her parents. There is much more in The Guardian article, if you’ve become intrigued as I did. That article will explain the Eiffel Tower tattoo – the image I selected to illustrate this story.

Farmed Out

I chose this photo because my cousin told me her mother (the half-sibling closest in age to my mom) had picked cotton to earn money for school clothes. A friend was sharing a sad story of his childhood with me. He told me that his mother had been overwhelmed and so he had been farmed out to relatives. That reminded me that my mom’s half-siblings (the children of her father’s left after their mother died) had been farmed out to relatives as well. The two boys were actually put on farms. My cousin’s mother was sent to wealthy relatives who bought things for her she never had before or after. Another sister was working and had an apartment in a nearby town, if memory serves me accurately.

I can’t help but believe when children are sent away from the family of their birth, there follows some sense of abandonment. My friend did not have a happy experience when he was in his childhood family home. Maybe it was the times. People were not quite as gentle when punishing their children as they have become in modern times. Since my friend also brought up that much later his family took in foster kids, he shared that he was able to see a broad diversity of outcomes. From a very young baby who quickly went back to its mother to a teenager. He notes that teenagers seldom find parents because people want very young children. He mentioned that he came to know many foster kids from visiting a group home and that boys and girls react differently to those circumstances. He also felt that the foster scene is not good for any of them. From what little I know – and none of it from direct experience – I would still agree.

I brought up feelings of abandonment with him and he said that he was not sure if he felt unwanted back then, more like unwelcomed. I’m not certain there is much difference.

In looking for an image, I found one that linked back to a JSTOR article – LINK>When Foster Care Meant Farm Labor. The subtitle read “Before current foster care programs were in place, Americans depended on farmers to take care of kids in exchange for hard labor.” Really, back in the day, it was normal for children to be expected to work hard for their family. Modern foster families get a small payment to offset the cost of caring for children. The article notes that has been a central part of child welfare programs for the past century.

Back in the day, authorities viewed the farm placements as a win for everyone involved. Farmers got affordable labor. Governments and philanthropic organizations were relieved of the expense of running orphanages. And children got the chance to learn valuable work skills while living in a rural setting, widely seen as the ideal place for an American upbringing. Even though the children worked hard on the farms, that was no different from what farmers expected of their own kids. But sadly as well, some farmers exploited the child laborers, beating them, denying them schooling or medical care, and sometimes overworking them for a season before sending them back to an institution.

The Simpsons had a similar episode that my family re-watched recently. It is from Season 1 Episode 11 and is titled “The Crepes of Wrath.” Maybe there is no actual point to today’s blog and maybe it is that progress continues to occur. Maybe it is just the meandering rambles of my mind this afternoon.

Abandoned Child Syndrome

Stitch, Nani and Lilo

I’ll admit that I knew nothing about this movie and only that there was an odd looking creature (Stitch) and a little girl. A comment in my all things adoption group had me go looking. “My kids just watched Lilo and Stitch for the first time. I had totally forgot the Children’s Aid Society and parental loss triggers. It was hard for me to see how they are telling her that her sister may be better off without her and she may need to accept that. F**** that narrative. Never better off without some of our family especially after profound loss already. Bah. My vent for the day.”

What I found was this WordPress blog by MadameAce – LINK>In Brightest Day: Lilo & Stitch and Childhood Abandonment Issues. It was there I encountered the concept of LINK>Abandoned Child Syndrome. I named my blog Missing Mom because it is on the mom side that my emotions naturally gravitate.

When we first meet Lilo, we learn that she has an active imagination, and that she has clung to the fantasies in her head as being reality, which is probably just her way of dealing with the trauma in her life. People suffering from abandonment will also have an “extreme sensitivity to perceived rejections, exclusions or criticisms. We see Lilo’s issues with abandonment constantly throughout the whole movie, and we even get a sense that she blames herself for what happened or that she cannot form strong connections with other people.

As Stitch’ behavior progressively gets worse, he opts to run away. We see Lilo blame herself. She watches Stitch go and she doesn’t try to stop him. Instead, she says that she understands why he wants to leave and that everybody eventually leaves her anyway. It is a movie that addresses sometimes uncomfortable issues directly.

Abandonment is a Perception

Perception matters. As we go through our own “adult” stuff and often have to make hard choices, we are not always aware of how our children are perceiving what we had to do. My marriage at 19 ended in divorce after the birth of our daughter a few years later. Eventually, I then left my daughter with her paternal grandmother (about the age of 3), but she eventually ended up with her dad and a step-mother. I made attempts to stay in contact and reassure her always that it never was about her directly but my own problems. Fortunately, we are close today as adults raising children (my grandchildren and two sons I have now from a subsequent marriage who’s ages are close to that of my grandchildren). I have faced that as a child her perception was understandably about having been abandoned, even though it was never my intention to never to have her under my own roof again during her childhood.

Today, I read about a woman with somewhat similar concerns. She left her child’s father when her daughter was only a year and a half old. She gave her mother legal guardianship of her daughter as she was going through a really rough time in her life. It’s shameful and it’s tough to face these kinds of reality. Finally, this woman met someone with whom she has been able to create a whole and loving family with her daughter and a subsequent baby brother from her new relationship. This daughter is now 9 years old and there are understandably “issues”.

Her daughter has ADHD and a fiery personality. Also some mood and behavioral problems exasperated by her abandonment trauma. She tends to be self-centered (normal) and melodramatic (from me). She can be very mean and unforgiving at times. She easily gets stuck on feelings of being left out or forgotten, even while we’re actively spending time with her.

One response suggested – Behavior is communication. Give each other grace. You are not the choices you made.

Another offered a perspective which I find valid – She has emotions that she is shoving down because she does not know how to deal with them. A huge part of healing childhood trauma is to grieve the losses that caused the trauma. For her, it was not having you or her father in her life for those years. My suggestion is that you start working on grieving your losses, and be open and honest with her about it (age appropriately). Let her see that you are in denial, angry, bargaining, sad, and finally accepting of what happened. That will give her permission to explore those feelings that she has inside of herself. I would also suggest a trauma/grief informed counselor.

You were part of your daughter’s wounding, you can play a major part in her healing too. It all starts with the parent healing as an adult. Learning what triggers us, so we can be the calm, consistent adults that our kids need because our calm becomes their calm, our ability to regulate our emotions becomes their ability.

More than one recommended LINK> Trust Based Relational Intervention – which I have seen and mentioned before. TBRI is an attachment-based, trauma-informed intervention that is designed to meet the complex needs of vulnerable children. TBRI uses Empowering Principles to address physical needs, Connecting Principles for attachment needs, and Correcting Principles to disarm fear-based behaviors. While the intervention is based on years of attachment, sensory processing, and neuroscience research, the heartbeat of TBRI is connection.

Someone else suggested mediation. Sometimes a safe person who’s not her parent can help her better understand/hear what you may be trying to communicate (and vice versa). And her suggestion came from personal experience – “I’ve had mediations done with both my and my mother’s therapist, and each time seemed to help shed some light on new aspects of a topic being discussed with our respective therapists.”

And an acknowledgement that I also understand personally – The mere fact that you care so deeply, is absolutely everything. DO NOT ever give up on that. Parenting is so hard, even without the added guilt you carry. All you can do is wake up and do the best you can do for that day.

Finally this from someone who’s been there (and hits me in the guilt place for I have done this too) – I wish my mom had owned her hand in my trauma WITHOUT excuses or trying to push blame onto others. I wish she would have validated my experiences. I wish she would have created and protected a safe space for me to understand and unpack all of the feelings and thoughts I had, preferably with a therapist. I wish she would have spent time one on one with me doing things I cared about, getting to know me deeper. I wish she wouldn’t have told me how hard XYZ was for her, I didn’t care, it wasn’t a competition, I was the helpless child. Even if my mom’s choices were between bad and worse, she was an adult who had brought me with her to that point. I wanted a mom who wanted to BE my mom.

She added – Your bit you wrote about your daughter feeling left out or forgotten hit me like a ton of bricks. That feeling is something I am working on to this day. I felt so out of place with my mom, stepdad, and new baby brother. I knew I was forgettable and honestly with a new baby – replaceable. They felt like a whole little family and I was just the chump she had to come back and get so I could tag along. (blogger’s note – though I never was able to bring my daughter back into my own life fulltime – we did have visits – I did go on to have 2 sons who I have been raising. This caused me to consider how that might feel to her – even though she is an adult with children of her own.)

One more – Focus on being your best self today and in the future. That’s how you can make it up to them, they’re often incredibly wise about this stuff. This way of thinking encourages you to reach a point of acceptance and decide… everyone’s alive, healthy, and you can’t change the past. I think that’s what I would say to my own parents, just sin no more and I don’t want to dwell in the past. (Though there may be times when the wounds bubble back up.)

My own last insight – life is messy, complicated and sometimes very very difficult. We can only acknowledge where we have failed but instead of continually beating ourselves up over that – move forward with being the best person we have managed to be at this time.

The Hardest Thing

To give birth under an assumed name and then walk away leaving the baby behind. Clearly it was the plan before the baby was born. The mother has yet to be identified or found. Child Protective Services has now placed the baby girl in a foster home. After being there for a year, they will want this couple to adopt the baby girl.

The only thing the mother left behind was a box with a toy and a note that says “the hardest thing I have ever went through, is missing you”. If the mother were to be found and come back for her baby, of course, reunification of the mother and infant would be the obvious goal.

But if the mother does not return, how will her adoptive parents explain to the little girl what happened ? The current foster mom definitely will not say – “she loved you so much, she gave you away”.

Suggestions –

Find a therapist to help you navigate what will be a lifelong process. Words matter and age appropriate are critical. You have a big job ahead of you – do all you can to do it well.

DNA testing as soon as possible to identify members of the natural family and get in contact with them. It’s unlikely to find nothing. Many people take DNA tests. Even a cousin can point you in the right direction.

In answer to the question of what to tell others about the child, some practical advice – A child in your care ? A kid who lives with you ? That’s what she is right now. Asking what to tell her if or when you adopt her is putting the cart before the horse. You should be doing everything you can to prevent that from happening, including a permanent legal guardianship. Did you see the recent case in Michigan where a mother didn’t tell the father that she placed the baby? You need to slow this process way down, so you can be sure this child doesn’t have family out there who want to take care of her.

The Dept of Social Services is going to be working to find the mom. There are many reasons she may have felt she had to do this. Maybe she’s in an abusive relationship or fears harm to the baby. It is not uncommon for some mothers to fear they can’t care for a baby. Good to hope they do find her and are able to help her.

At this point, no one actually knows the mother’s story. That matters.

As for the child’s story – always tell her the truth. You don’t know why the mother chose what she did. So if the child asks – you say, I don’t know. “I don’t know honey, sometimes people make decisions and we don’t know why.” “You are safe and cared for and loved and we will support you no matter what.” Follow up with a trauma informed therapist and let take the therapist take it from there. Explain that she can talk with you about it. Never sugar coat or tell her things you don’t know. Tell her what you know. Facts. You can do it age appropriately. It is her story. This is the reality.

Begin a Lifebook for her, so that she doesn’t have to ask. Work with a trauma informed therapist on how to word her story in a way that she can understand at various ages (perhaps include photos of the hospital room and certainly of the note and toy, the box they were in) and keep the story about her (not about you or your thoughts or feelings). Practicing the story before the kid is old enough to ask will help avoid it becoming a big secret or something scary.

Read The Primal Wound by Nancy Newton Verrier. It is perspective changing.

Abandoned Babies

Will there be more with Roe v Wade being overturned ?

A story making national news recently is about a baby found, wrapped in a towel in a stroller outside of an apartment complex, by a Coeur d’Alene Idaho resident when they left for work around 6 am.

A woman, identified as an adoptee named Webster, in this youtube news story, is quoted saying “We are living in a time where people feel like they are alone and they don’t have a support system or a net under them.”

If you are considering abandoning your baby, you likely are experiencing many different thoughts and emotions as well as being faced with one of the toughest decisions of your life. You might have one or more of these factors occurring in your life –

Have a history of substance use and are afraid to share that information
Not have proper documentation to live in the United States and fear being deported
Be living with a mental illness or facing postpartum depression
Be afraid of the baby’s father or worried about what your loved ones might say

If you are desperate for help, you may see no other option but to abandon your baby. Perhaps, you even wonder what happens to abandoned babies after they’re found?

There are really only three ways a woman can abandon her baby:

A prospective birth mother can work with an adoption agency to make an adoption plan for her baby. This is one legal way a woman can release her baby from her responsibility to care for it.
With Safe Haven laws, women have the option to safely, legally, and anonymously leave their baby, unharmed, at a safe haven location — like a hospital, fire station, or a church.
Even so, some women, feeling completely overwhelmed and unaware of the first two options, will take drastic measures, such as the case with this abandoned baby, leaving them in an unsafe condition.

The way a baby is surrendered will affect what happens to the infant afterwards. Babies who are abandoned in an unsafe location often have tragic outcomes because help comes too late. Babies that are found safely, after they’ve been abandoned or surrendered to a safe haven location, become a ward of the state.

Safe Haven babies are typically checked out by a doctor and, if necessary, given medical care. Afterward, the state’s social services department is contacted. Once that happens, the baby will be placed into foster care and become a ward of the state. In some situations, a private adoption agency might be contacted.

When a woman does not contact an adoption agency for assistance or use the Safe Haven law locations, if she can be located and identified, criminal charges will be filed against her. That is why the police in Coeur d’Alene Idaho are actively seeking information about who the woman may have been.