i was surrounded by hunters.

I walked into the room late, a workshop with the title that included 'the birthmother's voice'.  I had an expectation.  There was one seat left in the front so I took it.  There was a social worker from an adoption agency that arranges (brokers) open adoptions.  She looked like she was 28 years old and was not a mother herself.  I listened for a few minutes, every once in a while turning around in my seat when someone behind me would ask a question; I wanted to see who was in the room with me.  It took a while for me to realize that most of the women were there to strategize about their future adoption plans.  They looked like me.  It freaked me out.  Women in their mid to late 30's through mid 40's, mostly long brown hair in ponytails, styley jackets and very cool boots, just a touch of makeup.  Intelligent, thinking women.  Upper middle class.  Jersey.  Seeing my likeness in this setting horrified me and intrigued me at the same time.
The social worker 'girl' talked and talked about what these expectant pre-adoptive women could write in their profile packages to effectively win the birthmother over, to be chosen.  And they in turn asked question after question, lapping up all the answers.  They were like hungry cats.  They asked in all different ways the same question: how can I convince another woman to give me her baby?
When I looked back I noticed that many of these women were looking at me with competition in their eyes--they didn't know who I was or what my position at the conference was.  I was anonymously witnessing their desperation, and it hit a nerve within me.   I don't feel like I have worked through nearly enough of my shit around adoption to feel anywhere near objective in my perception of the women in that room.  I wanted to feel empathic towards their situations, yet I couldn't stop myself from seeing them as being unfairly needy.  It was like I was seeing them through the eyes of a child who was thinking "why does she get to have another woman's baby?  Why is that fair? Its not.  Its unfair."  I feel like I'm five years old when I think of them.
The social worker was outlining profiles of actual past birthmothers she had worked with.  She talked about four or five girls, and gave a snapshot in a story for each one; it was a sociology lesson to me.  I realized what was happening was that she was teaching this group of well educated, middle upper class women how to span social class.  Desperation linking with desperation.  The women in the room asked the social worker if the birthmother will care what school they went to, what kind of work they do?  The social worker taught a mini review of Maslow's heirarchy and said that many of the birthmothers are not even sure of their next meal.  They want to know that the child is going to celebrate Thanksgiving every year.  A picture of a Halloween costume of a character with some historical significance to her.  Food, clothes.  Some exoskeleton of tradition, basics  This is what they don't have, what they hope their child will have.
I left the session with the gut-wrenching thought that everyone in that room was thinking of birthmother as commodity, or at least the birthmother's decision as commodity.   It felt dirty.  An acknowledgment of their need would have cleaned it up a bit for me, I would guess.  But I was just privy to 45 minutes of their lives.

I feel somewhat guilty for writing this.  I don't want to be in judgment of these women.  I am not an adoptee who rails against the continued existence of adoption as an institution.  I am actually much relieved when I meet adoptive parents who include an acknowledgment of the birth mother within their family's and their child's identities.  It seems that this is the case on a wide scale these days, and I think that is amazing.  I know it is integral to a healthier post-adoption outcome for the child, so its good to know there has been an evolution in the social understanding of what makes up adoption and how it works.  But the idea that a large percentage of adoptions are facilitated by private agencies is suspect to me.  It doesn't seem possible to be impartial or hold both parties interests as equally valuable when you are getting paid by one of them.  The social worker was explaining how her agency educates the birthmothers by showing them an expense list of how costly raising a child is.  To me, this seems obviously directed and leading, and it strikes that place of out-of-controlness I feel about the fact that I grew up within one family with significant problems instead of another.  I don't have the sense that I was spared suffering by being adopted.  The specific type of suffering was chosen for me, in a way.  Jewish family, mental illness, drug abuse, emotional instability, denial in many forms, suburban america instead of ...teenage single mother, germany, stifling german family?...    who knows? I don't.
I suppose it doesn't matter except that it does matter when I'm reminded of the sadness of losing my first mother.  Maybe it was divinely engineered?  I am open to there being an element of exact perfect placement that is beyond any of our control or understanding.

I want to get to a place someday of feeling the ability to be connected to women planning to adopt without feeling threatened by them, without construing their need as unjustified or unworthy.  Without seeing them as hunters.
I want to be less affected by my expectations.  I hope I can work through my stuff enough to get through limiting myself and my connection to people.

The night of the day of the conference, I got home, had dinner with my family.  I walked into the living room with a cup of hot tea in my hand and walked over and turned off the lamp.  I went to walk out of the then-dark room and fell over the coffee table.  I walked into it and my hot tea spilled and I fell onto the floor and I started crying.  I cried for a while--it took over me, I cried without restraint, from a place deep within me.  It overtook me; it was from a depth I usually cannot get to, like the cry when my mother died.