The Correct Terminology

My mom was adopted. She referred to my maternal grandmother as her “birth mother”. My mom died in September of 2015, but if she were still alive, I would not have attempted to correct her own terminology. There is no way for me to second guess the meaning an adoptee or a such a mother may place on the role of that event in their lives. I am not either one.

Certainly, a woman who has given up a child for adoption is going to have a preference. How she might be identified by others would matter to her. After I began learning who my genetically related grandparents actually were (both of my parents were adoptees), I soon learned that in the mature adoption community “birth” mother is no longer considered the best choice when referring to any woman who gives up her child for adoption.

An adoptee might refer to her own self as a “surrendered daughter” but never as the “birth daughter”. Many times, her mother will have had other children subsequently, who she did raise. That mother would not call those children her “birth” daughter or son. When an adoptee goes into a reunion with the woman who gave birth to her – to that woman – she is the mom, though one who lost one of her children for a little while and now has her child back in her life. I understand such a sentiment. I lost (physical custody of but never legal custody of) my daughter for a little while during her childhood. I am grateful she is still in my life and accepts me. Very often, the adoptee (and this was true for my own daughter as well) will be expected by BOTH mothers to refer to them the same way, ie “Mom”. My daughter did not call her other mother “step-mom”. The adoptee (or my daughter for that matter) has no difficulty in keeping the two of them separate in her own mind.

I believe such issues are the truth for every person who’s family dynamics are complicated. Everyone who has been a part of that person’s life is “real” to them. My relatives due to the adoption of my parents – the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins – were always “real” to me. Duh. Hello? They live and breathe (or did, if now deceased). No one is more or less real than anyone else is. Everyone who was involved in an adoptee’s existence and their nurturing on this earth is “real”. I do not refer to the people I now know were my grandparents (deceased) or the still living aunt or cousins (who I have been fortunate enough to locate and meet) as “real”. But they are my genetic, biological relatives and the adoptive ones are not. This is a fact of DNA.

What the terminology I am highlighting here is intended to be focused upon is referred to as person-first language–a way of speaking about others that puts them first. In this regard, how we refer to someone else is informed by following their cues or asking them how they identify. This is being considerate or respectful.

So I did learn new terms when it came to referring to the people I am in community with in an adoption related group (all aspects). I now refer to parents who adopted children as “adoptive parents.” And so, now I call the people who raised my parents (who I viewed as my grandparents for over 60 years of my life) as the adoptive grandparents. I call parents who have surrendered children “original parents” – or the “original mother” or “original father” – the people who were the ones who conceived and gave birth to my parents, for example. “Adoptive” and “original” are the terms that make the most sense to me. I feel they are the most accurate in general and totally clear as to their reason and meaning.

The truth is that “birth parent” is still the most commonly recognized term for those not steeped in the issues around adoption. Too often, adoption places an overwhelming importance on the role of original mothers for their reproductive ability because this enabled someone, usually an infertile couple, to have a child to raise.

I believe that ALL original mothers matter to their sons and daughters. I am a feminist who has become aware of the stereotypes and issues of gender and class when it comes to the practices of adoption. Therefore, I have grown uncomfortable using the “birth” label in discussing adoption.

I believe all women should be valued by society; and sadly, too often they are not. Women are not here on this planet to simply give “birth” more human beings. A woman’s value is greater than her ability to reproduce. All of this is an explanation regarding why the label of “birth” has fallen out of favor with those in the adoption community to whom it matters the most.

Offensive Descriptions

The surrender of baby Moses

It’s a story as old as mankind but in these modern times, many of the common phrases of yesteryear are being relinquished. Some descriptions of a mother who surrenders her baby are now acknowledged as offensive.

I would have said Birth Mother before I became better educated by people even closer to the truths of adoption than I am. Now I will most often say Original Mother or Natural Mother.

Some have described their adopted children’s mother as the Belly Mommy. This could be equated to making the mother of those children nothing more than an incubator. People are often confused if you say other mom or first mom.

Of course, what an adoptee chooses to use to describe their biological parents should be entirely their choice. Adopted children should always be told that they were and allowed to ask questions about their biological roots.

The most important thing is to be transparent with your children about their unique circumstances and normalize those children regardless of how they originated. It is perfectly appropriate for your adopted child to know they grew in another woman’s body. Age appropriate language can be hard to define but naming that other woman as the child gets older is a responsible way to approach the situation.

The truth is – a mother’s role does not end at the birth of their baby, even if that baby is surrendered to adoption. It is a lifelong genetic/biological connection as the prevalence of adoptee reunions would indicate.

A Very Sad Reunion Story

In late 1996, a California woman named Terri Vierra-Martinez, had hired a consultant to help track her down the daughter she gave up for adoption. She sent a letter to the adoptive parents, Jim and Gloria Matthews, asking for a “reunion” with Jonelle.

“I was thrilled that Jonelle’s mother wanted to contact her, because Jonelle had always wanted that,” Gloria told the Greeley Tribune in January 1997. “But then I had to tell Terri that the little girl she entrusted to us is gone. . . . I had to ask myself, ‘Could I have taken better care of her?’”

The families ended up meeting, and Jonelle’s birth mother said she was grateful to know the truth. “This has put some closure in my life,” she told the Tribune. “Jonelle has always been part of my prayers, ever since she was born, and now — not knowing where she is — I’ll continue to pray for her.”

A crew digging this week in the rural land south of Greeley found human remains, Greeley police said. The Weld County Coroner’s Office later determined that it was Jonelle.

On December 20 1984, Jonelle had just finished singing Christmas carols at her Greeley CO school. Her father, Jim, was still out watching her 16-year-old sister, Jennifer, play a varsity basketball game. Her mother, Gloria, was headed to the airport to care for a sick parent in California, according to a story the next year in the Windsor Beacon.

When her father got home later that evening, he found the TV on and Jonelle’s shoes and shawl lying near a space heater. Jonelle was gone. It is still not known who took her or why or what happened to her in the final hours of her life.

My Daughter Mini Me

What happens when a young daughter doesn’t have a mother for a role model ? Here I am not speaking of an alternative mother but the natural mother. I think about this because both of my original grandmothers lost their own mothers at a young age, during their childhood.

There is a wide range of mother-daughter relationships. Some are not happy ones but I doubt any daughter would say her mother was not at all influential, even if the influence was a contrast telling her own self how she did not want to be.

If a daughter is fortunate, she will have a mother who is a blessing and who will be forever missed once she is no longer physically incarnated. Some of my friends had those kinds of mothers.

It may be that my relationship with my own mother was not all that unusual. We had a complex relationship. I did love her dearly. I remember sitting in the kitchen on the deep freeze while she cooked dinner, chattering away. I don’t know if she really listened or not but I appreciated having her captive. I get a similar treatment sometimes these days from my sons. Sometimes I was frustrated with my own mother. Sometimes I didn’t like her perspectives. Sometimes I was unkind or unreasonable in my expectations of her.

Girls learn a lot about being a woman from their “mother” and that is true even if their “mother” is an alternative one to the original mother.