22 Comments
May 13, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

This hit me like a right hook. I hate this holiday for many of these reasons, and more. And the addition of Birth Mother’s Day is like salt on an open wound.

Thank you, yet again, Tony for your insightful and honest perspective.

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May 13, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

Tony, this is so insightful. I appreciate how clearly you articulate the complicated nature of Mother’s Day for all of us who have complicated feelings about mothers and mothering that don’t fit in a Hallmark card greeting. It especially hit this year as I reflect on the five years I was able to celebrate Mother’s Day with my birth mother before she passed away last summer. Thank you.

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May 14, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

Great work, Tony! And oof- that last comical quote hits home- how so many just don’t “get” how painful adoption is. No one jokes about rape and abortion, but somehow adoption has always been fair game as a subject of jokes.

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May 13, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

Wonderful article. And this a wonderful poem from Adoption’s real Poet Laureate, Mary Anne Cohen, one of the founders of CUB, she and Mirah Riben the Editors of Origins, a Newsletter for Birthmothers and everyone concerned about and with Adoption, archived now, I think, at Harvard. I would point your Readers to the work of Adoption’s Original Reformer, Jean Paton, and her biography written by Wayne Carp. Thanks for another ‘raid on the inarticulate’ pain of First Mothers.

Pussy Willow

Strange that it should matter

after all this time

Shopping for a card

to greet my second cousin’s son

Grandson of Tim who died and was buried

under December snow

without seeing him

Another Firstborn Son—

how biblical that sounds,

sonorous, linked with sacrifice…

A card with pussy willows, delicate

pale blue, fragile

first fruits, first bloom

my eyes fill

with unexpected tears

Long ago, troubled spring

I drew maidens

with flowers in their hair, with pussy willow

in their hands, dream girls

whose dreams had not been ground to dust

like mine

When he abandoned me

to gather first flowers

for our spring son alone

When I left our son, in my poisoned grief

to grow wild, to flourish or to die

without me

He was small and soft as pussy willow catkins

silent, solemn, pale as china doll

with eyes of ancient blue, looking in dismay

at my face, soon gone, who brought him to this place

When first flowers bloomed, and candles burned

for love as cold as stone

Now, in another voice, he tells me, gently

we cannot go back, change fate, cheat time

make the dead to rise, to sing again

He is a strong oak, tall flower, a tree in foreign soil

No more china doll, pussy willow in my yard,

in my arms…..

Wild blue skies

of Galway blaze behind his eyes

strains of Bartok’s tunes

that his father played for me

beat within his heart, unknown

We walk a hard way, separate paths

Each must make their peace alone

Great wheel grinds fine, consumes another spring

grinds grief to sand, all deaths, all births, all risings and all fallings

Heart that weeps

at pussy willow gone to seed

takes hope, feels joy

in Oak’s mute strength

Sea’s indifferent, constant ebb and flow

All stones worn smooth with time

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May 14, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

This spoke to me so clearly that I shared some of your thoughts - reflected in my own experiences as well - in my own blog today. You can see it here - https://missingmom.home.blog/2023/05/14/notallmothers/

Thank you for your continued efforts. They are always deeply appreciated by me.

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mother’s day is as messy as all the iterations of motherhood are. thank you for writing this

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May 14, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

One more comment on this difficult day of grief and mourning for so many -- so many more than ever acknowledged. This marvelous SubStack -- informative, nuanced, truth-ful in a way so few things in Adoption are authentically truthful -- continues the long battle for Adoption Reform begun by Jean Paton so many way back in the 1950s. The entire field of Adoption if it doesn’t shun entirely shies away from Origins -- Origins of Life from First Mothers and origins of the Institution’s and Field’s own history. I urge readers to take a look at Wayne Carp’s what ought to be seminal biography of Adoption’s own Rosa Parks, so to speak, Jean Paton: the Struggle for Adoption Reform. Imagine a Rosa Parks-like courage combined with an H.D.-like poetry and profundity -- that was Jean Paton.

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May 13, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

Thank you Tony❤️

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May 13, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

Thank you, Tony, for how thoughtfully you think and write about this complicated, fraught day. May you and your birth mother continue to bring joy to each other.

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founding
May 13, 2023Liked by Tony Corsentino

So very thoughtful, as usual, Tony.

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I really appreciate your thoughts on this. As a first mother, it feels like a day designed for cruelty.

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Not only is it Mother’s Day, but it’s always within a few days of my adoptive mother’s birthday. It’s a reminder of how complicated my relationship with her has been.

I hate picking out cards to begin with. Getting cards for both of those occasions at the same time? Standing in the card aisle becomes one of the most fraught 30-60 minute periods of every single year. It’s hideous.

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