Birth Grandparent Grief Following Adoption

We met our infant son’s birth grandparents the day after we adopted him. I recall being so giddy with delight over becoming a parent that I probably said all the wrong things to his biological grandparents and great grandparents.

While they fully supported their grandson’s adoption, I sensed—even amidst my euphoria—that they were feeling sad and confused about saying both “hello” and “goodbye” to their grandson.

Today’s guest columnist, Marie (not her real name) is a birth grandma who candidly shares the emotional upheaval she’s living through in the aftermath of her newborn grandson being placed with an adoptive family.

On June 2, 2007, I received a phone call from my adult daughter, 27, announcing that she had given birth to a baby boy. She had not told anyone she was pregnant.

She is not married and she has had some problems with alcohol so I was understandably concerned. I jumped on a plane and flew to her city. There, I discovered that her boyfriend did not want to marry her or to keep the child.

Over the next two weeks as I struggled to cope with the shock of the unexpected birth, my daughter told me it was too emotionally draining for her to stay with the baby, so I became his sole caregiver. My grandson and I bonded instantly; I was in love after only a few hours. I loved every minute of the feeding, bathing, singing—and yes—even diaper changing. We spent many long nights awake together, me promising him that I would protect him at all costs.

After 10 days my daughter and her boyfriend decided they would place him for adoption. They began reviewing prospective parents and selected a couple. I was told I would be packing his little things and delivering him the following day to his new mommy and daddy.

I lovingly complied, although ever fiber in my body told me to run away and keep him with me. That last night together I never closed my eyes, but stayed awake holding him all night—desperately trying to memorize every feature in his face, as well as his smell, his personality—knowing I would probably never see him again. I cried uncontrollably and prayed non-stop that God would find a way to give me the strength to do what was required of me.

I washed and packed all his clothes and toys and they were taken to a hotel room for safekeeping until the hour of “surrender.”  When it was time to surrender this precious angel, I dressed him in the organdy daygown I had bought for him and lovingly wrapped him in an heirloom blanket. I was determined that this little boy would get the proper sendoff.

As I walked the three blocks to the hotel with this precious baby in my arms, I felt as if I was headed to death row and the seconds were ticking off the clock. It was the most surreal experience of my 55 years and I had never felt more alone.

When I met with the adoptive parents for that short hour, we were accompanied by the case worker from their adoption agency. We were instructed prior to meeting that our last names and contact information were not to be shared. I was even asked to redact the baby's name on a prescription he had been prescribed for the treatment of thrush.

I shared with his new parents the details of his eating and sleeping patterns and the notes I had taken to help them stay on his schedule. The adoptive parents were open and loving toward me and obviously felt great empathy for my loss. They both cried (a lot) when they heard the circumstances of the adoption and realized I was in such pain. They knew I didn't want to let go and that I had no power to make any decisions which had led to this moment.

They hugged and thanked me so many times. They agreed to give him the book I had bought and inscribed prior to meeting him as well as the little stuffed lamb which played “Jesus Loves Me.” I gave them a heartfelt letter I had written to him so that one day he will know how much I love him and how much I miss him. And I gave them the most precious gift of all: my beautiful grandson.

They promised he would one day know how much his “Mimi” loves him and how a part of me went with him. They also allowed me to take a photo of them as I handed the little man off to them for safekeeping.

Although I cannot imagine him having a more loving family to grow in, my sorrow and sense of loss has deepened with every passing month. I only have pictures and the few little outfits he wore during our last few hours together to sustain me. They are in a plastic bag and still hold his sweet baby smell.

Although I adore my three other grandchildren (ages 4, 2, and 10 months), sometimes being with them emphasizes the depth of my loss of this little boy, for I am reminded of the reality that I will never hear him call my name or see him reach his little arms up to hug me. Some days I cry all day and others I can handle it without crying. Most nights I cry when I go to the privacy of my bathroom.

I recently learned that I will be allowed to communicate with the family (through the adoption agency) and that the update letters and pictures his parents have sent to the agency are on their way to me. I am so excited to have this connection after five months of being totally cut off from my grandson.

I will have the opportunity to send him something special to go under his Christmas tree this year and something to commemorate his first birthday. After that, I will be allowed to send letters, pictures, or gift cards. I am praying that the family will find a way to allow the gifts to continue past the agency's cut off date and that I am able to gain their trust and confidence.

I only want to be another person available to love him, not to interfere in their lives. I am praying that they will invite me into their lives at some point, and I trust God to take care of that as He sees fit. 

My biggest concern is that I may not still be alive when my grandson is old enough to make these decisions for himself. God knows best and I know His plan will unfold for me and for my grandson. For now I am so thankful for His abundance in getting us to this point.

I always will love my grandson, who is 5 months old now, and hope that someday, my opportunity will come to tell him in person.

Coming in the next posts:

• Suggestions for appropriate communications/gift giving among birth and adoptive families
• Resources for grieving grandparents

For more resources about adoption, please visit www.laurachristianson.com or my Amazon.com Exploring Adoption Bookstore.

Comments

[Jenna]

Goodness, you might have warned readers that this was a tear-jerker indeed! My thoughts and prayers go out to that wonderful, loving grandmother. She has shown love and compassion beyond what would be considered "normal" and hopefully, someday, her grandson will know its full extent.

[Elizabeth]

Marie will always be one of the most important people in her grandson's life as she prays for him. Such sacrifice and love is a precious gift. May God intervene and allow visitations.

[John]

I fully empathize with the grandmother and my prayers to her in hopes she can maintane some kind of contact. I remember the bitter sweet feeling the day my wife and I adopted our son (he was 14 months old). All though our story is little different, I can not help but remember the excitment to finally have a child of ours, but then again we were taking him from everything he knew. All we can do is love and protect him with everything we have. I can only hope Marie feels some sort of comfort that he is in a loving home to a couple that will give him the best care possible.

[Debra]

This story really took me back to some of the emotions I felt when we adopted our daughter. She was premature and in the hospital for about a month. I spent many hours in the NICU with her and her birth grandmother. She loves this little girl too. We all cried as she left the hospital. We have an open adoption with visitation. We have never regretted this decision. We are thankful to have her birth grandmother in our lives. She prays for all 3 of us. It has been a blessing beyond measure.