Not a Saint, but a Mother: Pam Blackburn’s Story

Pam with daughters Hannah (left) and Melissa (right),
and husband Ron.

"Ordinary things caught my attention and I realized how lucky most of us are to be able to do the ordinary, mundane, boring, tedious everyday things we do. I noticed construction workers with jack hammers able to work incredibly hard, men on top of tall buildings creating new sky scrapers, children walking alongside their mothers picking up leaves from the ground, people riding bicycles, walking their dogs and driving cars..." (Pam Blackburn)

Pam Blackburn is the mother of five children, both by birth and by adoption.  Three of her children have special needs, including daughters Hannah and Melissa whose stories she tells on her website, http://mydaughtersvoice.com.

Pam’s daughter Hannah, 26, has Down syndrome and autism.  Her daughter Melissa, also 26, has cerebral palsy and is partially-paralyzed.  Both Hannah and Melissa are nonverbal and, on her website, Pam explores and describes their thoughts and feelings from her own perspective.  At 52, Pam describes herself as an “older mother,” but it was as a young woman when she had serious health problems, the kind usually experienced by people in their later years.

In her twenties, Pam Blackburn underwent emergency surgery ("emergency," although the tumor had caused her debilitating physical and emotional symptoms for some time) to remove a brain tumor.  Not long after coming home from the hospital, she had to return, this time with meningitis.  The experience changed the course of her life.

“It was on the trip home from this hospital stay that I first realized all I have taken for granted. Ordinary things caught my attention and I realized how lucky most of us are to be able to do the ordinary, mundane, boring, tedious everyday things we do. I noticed construction workers with jack hammers able to work incredibly hard, men on top of tall buildings creating new sky scrapers, children walking alongside their mothers picking up leaves from the ground, people riding bicycles, walking their dogs and driving cars,” Pam writes in a blog post.

“The grass was greener, the sky bluer, the clouds more pronounced, and I was in awe. I remember thinking that if I ever recovered I would appreciate life much more, spend more quality time with my children, family and friends, stop to smell the roses, and help others to see all that is perfect with the world. The truth is it would take me a long time to recover and many more years to learn to appreciate all I had in spite of the small deficits. … It is because of this experience that I first thought of welcoming children with special needs into my life.”

Pam’s passion is helping others “gain understanding, acceptance, and compassion for my (adult) children with special needs as well as others who are considered to have disabilities or 'special needs.'”

After I adopted Mia, who is typically-developing, people sometimes approached me and said, “You are such a good person to have done this.  She is so lucky that you adopted her.” Their intentions were kind, but the message in such comments is that, somehow, Mia didn’t have the right to a family, but that it was a favor we were doing her to give her one. I saw the wonderful film, “Lovely and Amazing” not long after Mia came home from Guatemala.  It’s the story of a family, and one in which Jane Marks, an “older mother” with grown children, adopts a young daughter, Annie. I love the line in the movie when someone praises Jane, played by Brenda Blethyn, for adopting her daughter. 

“She's lucky to have you,” the person says.

Jane responds, “She's not lucky. She’s entitled .  Every child's entitled to a mother.”

(Amen.)

If people, such as the fictional Jane Marks, are regarded as angels for adopting typically-developing kids, what sort of sainthood is thrust on parents who adopt children with special needs? Pam Blackburn is adamant: “If there is anything I would love people to know about adopting kids with special needs it is that we are not saints, we aren't perfect, we make mistakes, we get angry and frustrated, laugh and cry, have joys and challenges -- just like all parents.”

“I can't tell you the number of times people have come up to me and wrapped their arms around me and said, ‘I'm hangin' on to you 'cuz you're going straight to heaven!’ Sarcasm and humor are my friends, but it took a long time to get to that point,” Blackburn said.

She also bristles when people expect her children by adoption to “somehow carry gratitude in their hearts every day” for being adopted.

“I get somewhat fired up about this because first and foremost all children are chosen. Abortion and birth control are our rights (not that I advocate abortion, but it is a choice), and placing a child for adoption is a choice as well. So, in my mind, if you are raising a child whether through adoption or birthing (or fostering or whatever), that child was chosen,” she said.

“Meeting Melissa was life changing, and she has become my greatest teacher. I admire her attitude, unconditional love, fighting spirit and love for life. She is much more of a survivor than I ever was. She refused to give up where I would weary of fighting. She adapted where I was stagnant, was brave where I was fearful, and was happy where I was miserable. She has taught me more than words can express, and showed me how to love, laugh and appreciate life again. My challenges have made me stronger and happier, and I’ve learned not to take anything for granted. I truly appreciate and am grateful for each day that I wake up and know I am incredibly blessed.”

Thanks Pam for sharing your story.  

You are blessed indeed.