LilMtnCbn
05-20-2004, 06:41 AM
http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2004/05/19/1084917654590.html
In the name of the father
May 20, 2004
A Melbourne man has written about how it feels to relinquish a child. Claire
Halliday reports.
Gary Coles was not present at the birth of his first child in May, 1967. Named
"Peter" by his mother, Kay - the woman Coles describes as his "first love" -
the boy spent his first 11 days of life in a hospital nursery before being
taken into the home of a couple who would be his adoptive parents.
It was a decision that Coles and Kay, who were barely in their 20s, had
determined was best. With no family support in an era when single motherhood
was frowned upon, the young lovers felt that there was no other choice.
That moment signalled the start of what business process analyst Coles, 58,
came to call his "wasted years" - more than two decades of building a wall
around himself and distancing himself from career, friends and even family.
Twenty years of wondering what had become of "Peter".
In his recently self-published book, Ever After (Fathers and the Impact of
Adoption), Coles writes for "all those people whose lives have been changed by
adoption, but in particular for men who have lost a child through adoption".
It's a take on the adoption boom of the 1960s and 1970s (peaking in 1971-72
with 9978 adoptions) that is not often canvassed.
Wendy Gale, manager of Carlton-based adoption resource and support centre,
Vanish, where Coles's book was launched last month, says the story is overdue.
"Birth fathers are not really a strong presence," Gale says. "I think there's a
variety of reasons for that. Sometimes the father does not even know that there
has been a child given up for adoption. As seen in Gary's book, they've been
excluded from the decision-making process and they can feel powerless. Within
the adoption community this book is welcomed because it raises issues and
explores new areas. Birth fathers can feel very isolated"
Vanish was an integral part of his story and crucial to helping him with his
early search. Since Coles - who lives alone in Patterson Lakes - first went to
the group's monthly meetings, the impetus for attending has evolved.
.... there is shame, fear of being rejected by the child we lost through
adoption, guilt and anger that we allowed it to happen at all.
GARY COLES"It became less about the way people could help me with my problems
and more about how I could help other people with their own stories," he says.
"I could give them the perspective of a birth father's experience. In that time
I have attended support meetings I've only ever met one other birth father."
Coles was initially reluctant to tell the tale of his lost son, who was
re-named James by his adoptive parents and still lives in Coles's native New
Zealand. He started the project in 1999 and the result is an emotional and
practical guidebook into the issues of relinquishing a child and dealing with
the hope for a reconciliation and reunion. It encompasses his personal story
and extensive research into lives affected by adoption. In Victoria such issues
affect about 1 million people.
Coles has recently returned from South Australia where he presented a paper
entitled Father Matters at the eighth Australian Conference on Adoption. He is
now writing a second book further exploring adoption-related issues and intends
to self-publish it in 2005.
The $4000 expense of self-publishing the first print of Ever After was small
compared to the emotional benefits Coles reaped. He says the grief and loss
birth fathers feel is palpable. "Within that there is shame, fear of being
rejected by the child we lost through adoption, guilt and anger that we allowed
it to happen at all," says Coles.
A fundamental difference between the way birth mothers and birth fathers
experience sadness, according to Coles, is a "double jeopardy" sense of guilt.
The first is the guilt associated with a feeling that they abandoned the birth
mother and the flow-on effect on two lives - birth mother and relinquished
baby.
Coles's early experience impacted heavily on the parenting of his subsequent
two children from his marriage (since ended) in 1969. Admitting he has had a
long battle with control issues, he says his family have memories of him as an
overly critical father and a man who had difficulty displaying affection
towards them.
At the time, he did not acknowledge the impact of relinquishing "Peter" but
felt "release" when he turned 21 in 1988. "I experienced this irrational
reaction that because he had come of age, he could no longer lay claim to me in
any financial way - that I wasn't responsible for him any more. I knew there
was something in my past that was inhibiting my present living."
His subsequent search - first for Kay and then for their son - has not ended
happily. When Coles tracked "Peter" down in 1994, he found that his son had
imposed a 10-year, renewable veto preventing official contact. It has expired
and, so far, it has not been renewed - something that Coles views as a glimmer
of hope.
He knows that his son is married but does not know whether he has children. The
December 2003 birth of a child to Coles's daughter Marilyn was a reminder of
emotions that he says run only just below the surface.
He started sending letters to "Peter" in 2001 and still acknowledges birthdays
and Christmases with a short note. "Just to let him know that I still cared
about him. I always sign it 'love Gary'. The fact that he has not renewed the
veto is encouraging. I think he has his own adoption isses to work through, but
I do feel like the time will come."
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
In the name of the father
May 20, 2004
A Melbourne man has written about how it feels to relinquish a child. Claire
Halliday reports.
Gary Coles was not present at the birth of his first child in May, 1967. Named
"Peter" by his mother, Kay - the woman Coles describes as his "first love" -
the boy spent his first 11 days of life in a hospital nursery before being
taken into the home of a couple who would be his adoptive parents.
It was a decision that Coles and Kay, who were barely in their 20s, had
determined was best. With no family support in an era when single motherhood
was frowned upon, the young lovers felt that there was no other choice.
That moment signalled the start of what business process analyst Coles, 58,
came to call his "wasted years" - more than two decades of building a wall
around himself and distancing himself from career, friends and even family.
Twenty years of wondering what had become of "Peter".
In his recently self-published book, Ever After (Fathers and the Impact of
Adoption), Coles writes for "all those people whose lives have been changed by
adoption, but in particular for men who have lost a child through adoption".
It's a take on the adoption boom of the 1960s and 1970s (peaking in 1971-72
with 9978 adoptions) that is not often canvassed.
Wendy Gale, manager of Carlton-based adoption resource and support centre,
Vanish, where Coles's book was launched last month, says the story is overdue.
"Birth fathers are not really a strong presence," Gale says. "I think there's a
variety of reasons for that. Sometimes the father does not even know that there
has been a child given up for adoption. As seen in Gary's book, they've been
excluded from the decision-making process and they can feel powerless. Within
the adoption community this book is welcomed because it raises issues and
explores new areas. Birth fathers can feel very isolated"
Vanish was an integral part of his story and crucial to helping him with his
early search. Since Coles - who lives alone in Patterson Lakes - first went to
the group's monthly meetings, the impetus for attending has evolved.
.... there is shame, fear of being rejected by the child we lost through
adoption, guilt and anger that we allowed it to happen at all.
GARY COLES"It became less about the way people could help me with my problems
and more about how I could help other people with their own stories," he says.
"I could give them the perspective of a birth father's experience. In that time
I have attended support meetings I've only ever met one other birth father."
Coles was initially reluctant to tell the tale of his lost son, who was
re-named James by his adoptive parents and still lives in Coles's native New
Zealand. He started the project in 1999 and the result is an emotional and
practical guidebook into the issues of relinquishing a child and dealing with
the hope for a reconciliation and reunion. It encompasses his personal story
and extensive research into lives affected by adoption. In Victoria such issues
affect about 1 million people.
Coles has recently returned from South Australia where he presented a paper
entitled Father Matters at the eighth Australian Conference on Adoption. He is
now writing a second book further exploring adoption-related issues and intends
to self-publish it in 2005.
The $4000 expense of self-publishing the first print of Ever After was small
compared to the emotional benefits Coles reaped. He says the grief and loss
birth fathers feel is palpable. "Within that there is shame, fear of being
rejected by the child we lost through adoption, guilt and anger that we allowed
it to happen at all," says Coles.
A fundamental difference between the way birth mothers and birth fathers
experience sadness, according to Coles, is a "double jeopardy" sense of guilt.
The first is the guilt associated with a feeling that they abandoned the birth
mother and the flow-on effect on two lives - birth mother and relinquished
baby.
Coles's early experience impacted heavily on the parenting of his subsequent
two children from his marriage (since ended) in 1969. Admitting he has had a
long battle with control issues, he says his family have memories of him as an
overly critical father and a man who had difficulty displaying affection
towards them.
At the time, he did not acknowledge the impact of relinquishing "Peter" but
felt "release" when he turned 21 in 1988. "I experienced this irrational
reaction that because he had come of age, he could no longer lay claim to me in
any financial way - that I wasn't responsible for him any more. I knew there
was something in my past that was inhibiting my present living."
His subsequent search - first for Kay and then for their son - has not ended
happily. When Coles tracked "Peter" down in 1994, he found that his son had
imposed a 10-year, renewable veto preventing official contact. It has expired
and, so far, it has not been renewed - something that Coles views as a glimmer
of hope.
He knows that his son is married but does not know whether he has children. The
December 2003 birth of a child to Coles's daughter Marilyn was a reminder of
emotions that he says run only just below the surface.
He started sending letters to "Peter" in 2001 and still acknowledges birthdays
and Christmases with a short note. "Just to let him know that I still cared
about him. I always sign it 'love Gary'. The fact that he has not renewed the
veto is encouraging. I think he has his own adoption isses to work through, but
I do feel like the time will come."
-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown
