An Unapologetic Birth Mother

Guess who it is. That`s right, me and my son Kent. I will be the first to tell you that I do not think there is anything super significant about my journey to becoming a birth mom. I`m a firm believer that everyone`s experience of motherhood is different and this just so happens to be mines. To my knowledge no little girl grows up wishing to become a birth mom--at least I didn`t.  Depending on the kind of day am having you may receive two different answers if you ask me “Do you have children?” The generic one I usually use is “Yes, I have a son.” End of decision with no additional questions to be asked or with a picture to shown. On a day when I am having a mental meltdown you will see the emotional pain in my eyes when I say “Yes, I placed my son up for adoption.” I am not asking anyone to feel sorry for me or to figure out a way for me to get my child back (he`s with a wonderful family where, he fits right in). It`s just my response to your question.

I wanted to share with you an experience I had this morning when I felt that I could embrace my journey of motherhood from the distance. Sometime early this morning when I should have still been asleep, my friend’s depression and anxiety decided to come visit. For some reason Prozac (the medicine I take to help treat my mental illness) decided to take a break from guard duty and let them in. The question that these two unwanted friends poised to me was, when was my mind actually made up to place my child for adoption? My mind scrambled to relived that exact moment. It didn't occur at the hospital when they handed me my son and told me congratulations. Nor was it when I told his father for the 15,000 time that if he did not help me support our son I was going to place him for adoption. It happened one night when I came home to an unhappy screaming crying baby after a long restless school day followed by a long night at Kroger as the closing cashier. I remember asking my grandmother if she was going to help me claim the baby down so I could get some sleep. She responded by tell me “No, he is not my child. Your home now and am going to bed. Come on Jake (Jake was our dog at the time before he died in June 2015).” I couldn't be mad at her for the way she responded. She was right. She had raised her children, and was tired of watching mines. So with an uncontrollable screaming baby and a temper that grew inside of me from being angry at the world I decided that me and my sweet child deserved better.

Not saying that at the time I received the award for the worse mother of the year but by better I mean, he deserved two financially and mentally stabled parents who could care for him. Parents who could meet all of his basic needs and anything else that he desired. I myself, wanted to go away to school to further my education and leave the small town of Blytheville that I hated. Being a single mother living in poverty at such a young age was never something I wanted to do. The real search for my son`s parent`s begin. Am not going to go into detail about the families I met or how and why I chose this particular couple to adopt my son.

Instead, I want to talk about this picture. This is my favorite picture that I have taken with him so far. So once my friend’s depression and anxiety realized that they couldn't upset me about my adoption in that exact moment I decided to embrace it. By the looks of this picture you can't tell that my neck was in pain because the night before I stayed in a shelter due to my ex (not my son's father) choking me. Or that I cried as I walked on a highway ramp trying to get to my visitation and was over an hour late because I didn't have transportation. You can't tell from this picture how much hurt I live with that he no longer has an idea of who I am. Hopefully one day his want to know who I am, as Gisheera Jan`l Jones. If not am okay with that also.

This picture here gives me hope. Not false hope that one day we are going to have this reality TV show reunion. But hope that life is going to continue to get better for the both of us. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever think that I would be graduating with a Bachelor`s degree by the time my son turned 4. Or that this imperfect child that I love conditionally would ever had the childhood that I had always dreamed of. So to my son`s family, thank you. Thank you for choosing us just as much as we choose you. Thank you for giving us a second chance on this confusing crazy rollercoaster called life. Thank you for being great parents to our son and loving him as your own. Thank you for being patient with me and him over the course of his life time. We love you!


The Unapologetic Birth Mother