Breaking The Silence

To those who raise praises
of our unselfishness,
and sing the virtues of adoption--
We say
"Be still and listen."
We ask you to remember what was done to us
in the name of what's best.

We are the mothers
for whom there was no welcome
from our families and communities.
We are the mothers
who were expelled from our schools
and fired from our jobs.
Who were sent away
to strangers or distant relatives--
hidden from view in our parent's house,
and locked up in "Homes"
for the crime of becoming mothers.

We are the mothers
who were signed into maternity wards
under false names,
who labored alone,
or were drugged for our deliveries--
We were not permitted to see or to hold
our newborn child
because our being was shameful.

We are the mothers whose youth or poverty
whose fear and shame
forced our decision.
Who signed papers falsely explained to us
or were handed a pen
within hours of our child's birth.

We are the family that was dismembered
to make another family possible.
We were told our children were better off with strangers
and would not notice our absence.

Our childless counselors
and the celibate priests,
and those married with children said,
"Go on with your life." "Forget." "It is best."
"Time will heal." "You will have other children."
And turning away
they spoke only of the joy
of those who received our children
as though it was now the only story.

They left us sealed records
and searing memories.
We lived in silence, and pain so terrible
it stole our voices.
We lived in silence
so insufferable it has cracked of its own weight.
Now we find one another,
we find our children,
we find ourselves.
No longer will we be spoken for
by those who led us to the wilderness
and left us there.

The silence breaks and slowly the world changes.
If things are different now for the new mothers
who join our number--
It is because of what the older sisters suffered,
and the ways it marked and haunted their lives,
and the lives of their children.

Losing a child is still a wilderness,
and each mother makes the journey alone.

Today we honor this journey in one another.
We reclaim our joy in the birth of our children.
We honor our love and our connection to them,
which ink and paper do not sever.
We name ourselves Mothers--
Mothers of sons and daughters,
Mothers of mothers and fathers.