Front Porch: Luncheon comforting for mothers

On Mother’s Day, my husband and sons spoiled me as usual with flowers and breakfast in bed. But the following Friday, I celebrated the holiday again – this time with a group of very special moms.

For the past 15 years Catholic Charities Spokane and Spokane Consultants in Family Living have sponsored a luncheon for mothers of all ages and backgrounds with one thing in common: they are birth mothers.

Sandra Maher, adoption specialist for Catholic Charities, facilitates the event. “For most birth mothers, this time of the year is difficult,” she said. “The purpose is to honor the special women who’ve relinquished children for adoption.”

My sister-in-law Susie Hval is one of those special women – I attended the luncheon as her guest. Twenty-seven years ago, she gave birth to a son. A high school senior at the time, she knew she couldn’t give him the kind of life he deserved, so she elected to give someone else a chance at motherhood.

“I always knew I’d have to give him up,” she said.

On April 18, 1984 she gave birth to a son she called “Kelly.” She held him right away, marveling at his chubby face and dark hair. She chose a family for him and she visited him each day at St. Anne’s Children’s Home, while she waited for the court processes and adoption paperwork to be completed.

And one day her son’s adoptive parents walked into the front door of the Spokane County Court House and she walked out the back. It was a closed adoption. There were no visits, no phone calls, and no letters.

Susie went on to marry, graduate from college and give birth to five more children. But every April her heart ached for her firstborn and each Mother’s Day served as a reminder of who was missing from her life.

The Birth Mothers Luncheon was the one place she felt surrounded by those who understood. “It was wonderful to be around people who’ve had the same experience,” she said.

According to their adoption contract, Susie couldn’t contact her son until he turned 25. As the date approached, Sandra Maher asked if she was interested in reaching out to her son. With Susie’s enthusiastic agreement, Maher served as the intermediary in the reunion process. Two years ago, Susie once again looked into the eyes of her oldest child – 25 years had passed but she felt as though she’d always known him. They couldn’t stop laughing and hugging and both were shaken by the intensity of their connection. Interestingly, her son’s surname is Kelly, the name she’d given him at birth.

The reunion has been an awkward dance as birth mother and adult son learn who they are and how they fit into each other’s lives. Still, Susie said, “I always felt bad on Mother’s Day, but I don’t anymore.”

And now that she’s come full circle, the Birth Mother’s Luncheon is even more important. She finds comfort in being with women in all stages of the relinquishing and reunion process.

At this year’s luncheon, the guest speaker shared her story of giving up her only child decades earlier. Tears fell freely among the women who shared her pain – who know the ache of empty arms.

Maher said, “This is the place where they can talk about their children – where they can feel like mothers.”

Every year, the candle lighting ceremony serves as a poignant highlight of the luncheon. Each mother is invited to light a candle and say their child’s name. For some of the women, this is the only place where they are allowed and encouraged to speak the name of the child they relinquished.

“I light this candle for my son Wayne.”

“I light this candle for my daughter Claire.”

Names spoken with such love and tenderness floated through the silent room. Some of the women began to sob and I thought, if only their children could see how much they are loved and missed – how much it cost these women to let them go.

Finally, as the candles flickered, the soft strains of “The Rose” began to play. “Every mother deserves to be recognized and remembered,” said Maher, as each mother was presented with a single rose. For many this is the only acknowledgement of Mother’s Day they receive.

With a full heart and brimming eyes, I looked around the room at the women who’d gathered to remember children who never really belonged to them and yet are forever entwined in their hearts.

As I looked into their eyes, I saw strength, resiliency, pain, compassion and courage. Maybe they didn’t get bouquets or breakfast in bed, but the emotion in their eyes revealed the truth of what motherhood is all about.