Sunlight on My Shadow, begged to be written. It sat there for 40 years, this quiet weight on my heart, a story bound in secrecy and obscured by years of neglect.
So about 5 years ago, I started tapping on the keyboard. The words flowed easily but when I thought of anyone reading what I wrote, I cringed and the words dried up. You see, I was paralyzed with shame and regret. So I just wrote it for myself, pretending no one would ever read it. It seemed to be the only way to keep the words flowing onto the page.
During the writing, I re-visited the confusion that I lived with as a 16 year old. I had the great pull of first love and wanting closeness and sex with this high school boy, but my catholic training taught me that sex outside of marriage was a grave sin. I battled my inner war and finally rationalized that the purity doctrines were unreasonable and unnatural, so I went ahead and got myself pregnant. Not on purpose, mind you, but accidentally, when my boyfriend’s prophylactic split in two. Then I hated myself for my lack of self-control and
weakness at not being a good catholic girl. This was the start of my life with a debilitating shame.
As I wrote my story, I re-lived the dark guilty place of sneaking around with my boyfriend, losing my virginity, and the horror of my blooming pregnancy as I attended the all-girls, Regina Dominican High School. I concealed my thickening belly for five months, holding my uniform skirt together with looped rubber bands. We wore blazers that kind of covered up this thickness that was growing. Finally when the rubber bands couldn’t hold anymore, I was forced to tell my mom and dad. They sent me 100 miles away to the Martha Washington home for unwed mothers in Wauwatosa Wisconsin.
While I was at the home for unwed mothers, waiting for my baby to be born, I had expected that upon her birth, I’d be free of this nightmare and never have to look back. I pictured myself resuming my place of honor in society as a good college bound student, my secret hidden and protected.
But it wasn’t that easy. When I heard the baby’s first cry, I fell in love with her and was hopelessly attached in a way that would persist.
Giving my baby away added more shame. I thought, what kind of mother relinquishes her own child? And the worst part was, I knew I was walking away from her because I had to keep the secret. You see, we had told everyone I was sick with a kidney disease.
I labored alone and never held my baby. Although we were allowed to go into the nursery, I believed that holding my baby girl would be toying with the impossible and too dangerous. I didn’t want to love her more than I already did because that might cause me to question my decision to give her up. So I just looked at her through the nursery window and admired her and was proud of her beauty. I ached to hold her but never went inside the nursery to pick her up. I visited the window and looked in on her many times. When her crib was empty, I knew they had taken her away.
John Bradshaw writes in his book on shame:
“If a traumatic event happens to you when you are young and you are not able to talk about it, it gets frozen in you as a picture of the event. So if anything similar occurs in the future you go back to that place and churn up the same old emotions and act as an adult child. A person with internalized shame believes he is inherently flawed, inferior and defective. Such a feeling is so painful that defending scripts (or strategies) are developed to cover it up. This takes away your authenticity. These scripts are the roots of violence, criminality, war, and all forms of addiction.”
So the very act of not speaking, keeping my story a secret, froze the event in time, and kept me from healing. When I thought about my baby or my pregnancy, I forced myself to “not think about it”; shutting off the natural flow of emotions.
Brene Brown, the researcher and psychologist, says that you can’t selectively weed out emotions. You can’t say I don’t want to feel the bad stuff and then be filled with joy. When you stop feeling the negatives, you stop feeling everything. So carrying this toxic shame was a kind of death of the spirit.
Several years after the birth of my child, I yearned to break the secret and talk about it, but I didn’t know how. If I was with a group of people and the topic of teen pregnancies came up, I would begin to shake— deep inside my gut. “Oh that happened to me.” I would blurt out in a high-pitched voice, forcing myself to speak through a tight throat. The sweet listeners would nod and be wordless. I am sure they didn’t want to probe and could feel the shame behind my squeaky words. But Oh how I wanted them to ask me about it so I could have license to talk.
Brene Brown goes on to say, “Shame is the fear of disconnection. Is there something about me that if other people know or see, I won’t be worthy of connection?
To alleviate shame, she says, you have to have a sense of courage, which comes from the latin word cour which means heart. So you tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. To do this you need the courage to be imperfect. You must have compassion for yourself and others. And in speaking your truth, without cover ups, you experience connection with others. It is based on authenticity.
You must be willing to let go of who you think you should be in order to be who you are. You must fully embrace vulnerability and know that being vulnerable makes you beautiful.”
So how did I get rid of this toxic shame that bound me in its grip for 40 years? I laid down my words and dripped tears. I relived all the events leading up to and past my pregnancy. I recalled my isolation and suffering at home and school as I guarded my secret. And I wept. The writing was like a desert rain that brought the memories back to life. As I cried, I came to understand why I made the choices I did and I came to understand that I had done a great thing. I had given birth to a beautiful child who was perfect in her existence and she was a gift from God. I realized that, “when you know better, you do better.” And I forgave myself for my mistakes and I accepted my vulnerability, my humanness, and my imperfections. And then I was able to talk to others about it.
Miraculously, I didn’t care anymore what others thought of me because I had forgiven myself. I realized that if they truly understood, they too would forgive me and not judge. Just a year or so ago, I never would have been able to get up here today and give a talk about my shame. But today I am free and I hope that my story will encourage others who have been tethered by shame and regret, to finally speak their truths openly, abolish the secrets. And soar whole-heartedly into the open sky.
Thank you for sharing your story! You are a very brave woman, I am so sorry for the shame and guilt that you endured all those years. It makes me sad for my mom and I feel selfish for not looking for her all these years to let her know it’s ok. I was born at the Martha Washington home for unwed mother’s on August 26, 1963 at 5something pm. I don’t know what my biological name was, all I was told was my mother was 15? and was an excellent swimmer. If anyone reads this and knows anything of interest I would so appreciate it. Anything about the home or my mother etc. would be great. My email is shai.len@hotmail.com. Thank you. Thank you Judy for your honesty, strength, courage in helping women see that it is ok to to heal, it’s ok to be released from the chains of shame and guilt. It took me until a year or two ago to see that for myself.
Wendy, thank you for the kind note. You could probably register with the adoption agency showing your willingess to give your info to your birth mom. It certainly was healing for me and I think, my birth daughter. Writing the book definitly healed the shame. I wish this for all of us. Best of all to you.
Looking for a child born in 1962 named Jan and mother’s name Ann Marie.
Hi Judy,
My Mother Delores K. had given birth to a Daughter at the Martha Washington home in the early ’60s. Jennifer would have been her name. I have never met the child. It’s a very sad situation when it comes to adoption and I still holding to the hope that one day we will be brought together. Thank you for sharing your story.
That is amazing Kammy. I hope you can some day meet your sister.
Hi Judy!
Thank you so much for sharing your story! It helps me to understand what my mom experienced! My heart aches for her and I am so thankful to her for giving me life, and the wonderful life I have had!! As you can see in the previous comment, I was not able to meet her! I have however been able to meet my biological uncle, her brother and several 1st and 2nd cousins! Thank you for your story and your book!!
Sue, I’m so sorry you didn’t get to meet your birth mom. Sorry for you and sorry for her. Such a joy to see the child that you were never able to raise. The connection with your birth family is a true blessing and good to know you have met some of them and can learn about her through them. I loved writing this book. It changed my life. My warm wishes go out to you in your healing journey as we all, adoptees and birth parents are forever unfolding into our understanding of our journeys..
Hi!
I was born in The Martha Washington Home For Unwed Mothers in 1958! I recently found my birth family thru 23andMe and The Adoption Records Search Program in Madison, Wi! Sadly, I was unable to meet my birth mom! She passed away in 2014. Her name was Margee Pallett! Did anyone know her?
Thank you for sharing your story. I am an adoptee and also struggle with toxic shame. Your vulnerability is beautiful and it inspires me to be open to letting things go or be as they are. Much love to you.
My grandmother Barbara Deering gave birth to mom here at this hospital December 23, 1948. Does anyone know her? She has passed away but I was wondering how long she was there.
Oh Judy, I see you were there in 1967, so you would not have known my birth-mom. As an adult, she suffered terribly from depression. I’m sure that was common for girls who had to give up their dear babies.
Oh so sad to hear your mom suffered from depression. yes, depression, ptsd… it was hard on our young souls.
Judy, I was born at the Martha Washington Home in August of 1960. I finally met my birth-mom, Sue Ann in in 1993! Were you there at the Home, at that time? Could you have known her? She passed away in 2010. I would like a picture of the Home. I am assuming that must be it on this page. I know it has been torn down. Sue Ann and I went to look for the place with my adopted mom in the 90’s. It was a beautiful day.
Hi Patty, I know you posted this a while ago, but I recently learned that my mother gave birth to me at the Martha Washington Home in Wauwatosa in December of 1960. It’s possible our mothers may have been there at the same time. Her name was Eleanor W. and she was from the Cleveland, Ohio area. Unfortunately, she passed away in 2000, so I never had a chance to meet her.
Hi Judy,
I’m going to buy this book, if the link still works when I’m done writing this . I was not adopted, but I have a cousin born months after me in 1971 who was given up- he’s found now, but I found out yesterday that my aunt had another baby 2 years before him, when she was 14, who was also given up. This would have been 1967 or 68. That’s all I know this timel, not the sex, or even month of birth. She passed away last year so I won’t get any information from her. But I know she was at a home for unwed mothers in Milwaukee. Do you know if this was the only home in Milwaukee? It’s all I have to start.
Thank you.
54 years ago I spent five and one-half months ar the Martha Washington Home in Wauwatosa. I was 14 yrs. old. It was a shameful secret I suffered for years in so many ways. My experience at the home was very positive though and taught me things like patience, discipline, diversity and friendship. Over the years I thought about contacting my son but thought it would be selfish on my part. Right after 9/11 happened I thought about missed opportunities and things not said. What if my son had been trying to contact me after all this time? So I contacted the adoption agency and after a few phone calls and a couple of hopeful, anxious days I received a call that rocked my world. My son had been killed in an auto accident at 18, 2 weeks before graduation. He had been dead for many years and I wasn’t even aware of his passing. I still think of him so often and especially on Christmas Day, you see he was born on that day in 1962.
Hi Judy,
Thanks for your story. I came upon your website searching for catholic and toxic shame. I am 40 and just beginning to realise that I suffer from toxic shame, partly from some distorted catholic teachings and parental failings. Your story gives me hope. I am still learning so much about myself, I hope one day to heal fully. The following resonates strongly with me:
“Brene Brown, the researcher and psychologist, says that you can’t selectively weed out emotions. You can’t say I don’t want to feel the bad stuff and then be filled with joy. When you stop feeling the negatives, you stop feeling everything. So carrying this toxic shame was a kind of death of the spirit.”
Thankyou for your post,
Anthony
Judy, I am reading your book and have to tell you that you are writing my story, except for the fact that my boyfriend married me and I didn’t have to give my daughter up.
My name is Judith Ann, born 9/9/52, pregnant at age 17 (1969). If my now ex husband hadn’t married me I would have been in a home for unwed mothers giving up my baby girl too. I am the youngest of 5, both my older sisters were married and I have a niece and nephew the same age as I am. My brothers are respectively 9 and 7 years older than me.
I have related to your every emotion and the fear you felt. This book has taken me back to those days in 1969 and the birth of my daughter. Thank you for writing your story…so much like mine.
Judi Harvey
Hi Judi, Thanks for your kind words..So glad to hear that you kept your baby and that you could relate to my story. Oh goodness, such horrific times when we didn’t know what to do but knew there were big consequences. Raising a baby at the age of 17 must have made you grow up fast.Judith Ann, (great name thank you for letting me know we share this story. Judy
Hi judy, i know my mom had a daughter in january of 1967, i dont know which home she was at hut her name was stephanie bohl and i just thought coincidentally you might have shared space with her…
Hi Julie. That’s amazing that your mom had a daughter the same year. Unfortunately I didn’t know the last names of any of the girls there because we had to go by Judy L. etc. I might have known a Stephanie but your mom would have been gone because I didn’t arrive until May of 1967. Did you ever talk to your mom about it or meet her daughter?