I’m a young mother. My mother became a mother young. My daughter has a higher risk of becoming a mother young, but I’m doing what I can to decrease that risk.
Going through the hell of relinquishing an unplanned child for adoption reduces the likelihood of my reproducing before I choose to significantly. There’s a specific statistic that, I think, puts this percentage in the low to mid seventies. I found it disconcerting that birthmothers’ reproductive habits were more highly impacted than mothers that had aborted. Consequences of actions are weighed in a completely different manner.
One manner is trust. For some reason, society has designed men’s role in reproduction to be subjective. Women are supposed to ward off advances, think on behalf of both parties, and make decisions based off circumstances that the other party voluntarily or involuntarily contribute to. Being that things are this way, after coming to terms with consequences that are life, death, agony, grief, loss, struggle, and maybe bittersweet joy of course family planning takes a predominant role in a woman’s life. We are conditioned at that point not to trust everyone just because they sweetly ask us to, yet to let a politician work us over much the same way…total chaos.
But those are all patterns that have been influenced by relationships and interactions that we didn’t always have complete control of. Don’t get me wrong…I believe as adults that we are accountable for OUR actions. But we cannot be held accountable for the actions of the adults who molded us or made manipulative impacts on our lives. From the way things seem to be going, it’s no wonder why fear is such a commodity in media today. We fear from lack of trust. We fear from difference. We fear what we don’t know and understand. And those fears also contribute to our decisions.
My family was not happy with my choice to give my child up for adoption. They were actually very supportive of the idea of me keeping Maxton. However, I knew [some of] their support to be a double edged sword. I grew up knowing that some people did things, not out of kindness, but because they’re investing for the sole purpose of a return. I’m quite careful about who I owe things. And while my dad was sincere in his desire to help with baby 3, I didn’t want my responsibility to be his burden because he does so much to help everyone else. He helps to the point of enabling, actually. And I didn’t feel like I was in a parenting position to be able to totally commit to my role for Max. My other children get what I think to be “just enough” of me. It wouldn’t have been fair to deny any of them time, love, affection, or ability. I had seen how frustrations from parenting made my mother with the three of us girls. I had seen how it translated into a sense of fault to us. That was NOT going to happen again.
So, while mother and trust issues played into the decisions and consequences surrounding Max, I was looking at many other things. It stung to be considered so petty that my mother would accuse me of placing him for adoption to spite her stance. It stung because I so outwardly and sincerely love my children that someone would have to be intentionally blind or delusional to make such a claim on my character. I knew that I COULD have raised Maxton. I knew even more that I shouldn’t. Not just as I am and where I am in my life. Between family and society giving and taking from the scope of ability and accountability to fit whatever stance they had on a given day on the subject of being a woman, a mother, a child, and a human, it just seemed like what I wanted was/is being shuttered out from selfish opinion.
After my second child had surgery two days ago, I was in a really strange place again. I had family trying to force “help” down my throat and was berated with questions of why I wouldn’t accept said “help.” I didn’t want or need it. At the same token, I knew I’d need help to raise Max…preferably from a loving father figure…but I did what I had to to keep the lack of at my hand from impacting his life. Changing tires, playing nurse, being career oriented, and being a hobbit are simple. I get this overwhelming sense that people want to help me now because I’m getting into a position to be able to help them…and that just seems disgustingly shady.