Obligation

    Theres been a lot of talk in the adoption blog world lately about rejection.  Natural fathers and mothers rejecting adoptees, and adoptees rejecting  natural mothers and fathers. Many of these bloggers urge mothers to accept their relinquished children, and they say the same thing to adoptees. "What could it hurt", they argue, "to just let the other party know how you are doing?"

      While I haven't been rejected by either of my biological parents- I have experienced rejection from other natural family members. And it hurts. How couldn't  it? Knowing that the people who would have loved you had you not been placed  don't even want to know you is a pretty hard pill to swallow. But then again, so is being placed for adoption in the first place.

     Many bloggers cite the moral responsibility that the natural parent and child have to one another. And I agree...but only for half of that equation. I believe that natural parents are morally obligated to give at least basal information to the child they relinquished. Not just medical information- but information surrounding the conception and placement of the child. Deciding to bring a child into this world, whether or not you raise them, assigns one a certain ethical obligation. I don't think that "giving life" is enough. Every human being, regardless of whether or not their parents decided to raise them, deserve to know the rudimentary facts about their past and their existence. Mothers who, for whatever reason, don't believe they have an obligation to their relinquished children are  (in my book) sadly mistaken.

I do not believe, however, that adoptees share that same obligation. And as unpopular an idea as that may be, I stand by it. And my reasoning is fairly simple.  As an adoptee, I resent any implication that I "owe" any parent in my life anything. I don't owe my adoptive parents any sort of gratitude or loyalty because they "took me in". I think everybody would agree with that. I respect and honor and am grateful to my adoptive parents... because I want to be. Because they have earned it. I also love and respect and am grateful to my first parents. I *WANTED* to meet them. And 1o years into reunion, they are an important and irreplaceable part of my life.

But what about the adoptees who DON'T want to reunite? Who have NO desire to know their biological parents? Are they obligated to communicate, even if they don't want to? The answer is no.  While giving life to a child requires some sort of ethical obligation from the parent, I do not believe that said child has any responsibility. I don't believe that ANY adoptee is morally or ethically responsible for making a first parent "feel better" or "be at peace." Want some sort of guarantee that the child you bore will one day want to know you? Don't place them for adoption. Adoptees, often from day one, are required to incorporate themselves into a family that is not their own. We adoptees, part of a strange and unnatural minority, are thrust into the world of being adopted before we have the words to explain what has happened to us.  Sometimes being adopted is a good thing, sometimes it's a bad thing. But its ALWAYS a thing that we did not choose.

Before everybody gets all up in arms telling me that "nobody chooses their parents" or "some first parents had no choice"- stop. I am not saying that PLACING a child for adoption creates this obligation to the child. I am saying that GIVING BIRTH to a child creates this obligation. Whether or not the adoption was a real "choice" is irrelevant. It changes precious little for the child who has been placed. I don't think adoptees owe their first parents anything. Not a letter, not a phone call, and certainly not a relationship. Why should we? We have already payed the ultimate price for our relatives decisions. If an adoptee  has no desire..why on earth should they feel obligated? Because the first parent feels bad? Because they want some peace? Because they are curious? Because they are hurting?

Sorry folks- just as reunification cannot be used as a bandage for an adoptee, neither should it be used as one for a first parent. Peace does not lie in the other person, but within ourselves.  I believe that an adoptee who is searching has an indisputable right to information from their  natural parent(s).  I believe we are owed an explanation.  Not a relationship, but at the very least an explanation. The decisions of the adults in our lives have radically altered our existence. When we were adopted.. we were given a new name, a new identity, a new family, a new life.  We were given all of those things because our relinquishment took them away from us. Our name, our identity, our family- lost. At least gone for us. Forever. No reunion can change that.

"Why the double standard?" people ask. It doesn't seem fair, does it?  Well, its not fair. It certainly isn't.  Many first parents are fond of reminding us that we don't owe our adoptive parents loyalty..that we should not make the decision not to not reunite to save their feelings. But can't the same be said about natural parents? We shouldn't reunite just to satisfy their feelings. Just as I owe my adoptive parents nothing for adopting me,  I owe my first parents nothing for giving me up. In a perfect world, both parties would like to reunite. I would encourage all adoptees to reach out to their natural families. It can be a very rewarding and healing experience. I know some first mothers who are fantastic, loving, intelligent women, whose children don't want to know them.  And those adoptees are missing out big time. Although I cannot approve of their decisions to alienate their first mothers.. nor can I condemn them.

Nobody is born a first-parent. For the people who have relinquished children, there is always a chapter before adoption entered their lives. They have perspective, they can look back on a time when they were not a part of the "triad."  Adoptees, at least those of us placed as infants, have no such place of recollection. We were never given a chance to "avoid" being an adoptee (it's certainly something I would have avoided, had I been consulted).  And on that merit alone, I believe we owe nothing.

 I am in a successful reunion. I have spent years of my life trying to juggle having two families..trying to make them coexist within my life harmoniously. It's not easy, but for me it's worth it. For some adoptees, it simply isn't worth the trouble. Some adoptees have no interest, some adoptees cannot face that part of their lives. For some adoptees, its easier not knowing. And I think that's our right.

Crumbs

                                                               (me and my sister)

I recently read a post by Kara, entitled " "I love you, but...."

             In this post, she criticizes  various first mothers on their open adoptions- outlining the various discrepencies she sees in their open adoption arrangements. The mother whose family doesn't know her placed child exists, the mother who had another child and kept him only  a few years after she placed her firstborn. Her gushing love for her kept child is in stark contrast to the "coldness and emotional distance" she expresses to the child she placed.

         Though I am not 100% agreement with these observations, the post and succesive comments were quite interesting to me. Many of my fellow adoptees are sticking up for these children, highlighting the possible negative feelings they will experience when they realize that  they are a secret, when they see that their first parents are madly in love with their sibling and seemingly not them.
      I've been in both of those adoptees shoes. I was a secret for a long time- and I was born in the late 80's! I have a sister who is 1 year and 364 days younger than me. She was never a secret. Born under the SAME circumstances, she is the beloved child of her family- welcomed and treasured from the start.
Does that hurt? You bet it does. I reunited before I was a teenager, and spent many years of my childhood and adolescence trying to find the difference between my sister and I. Trying to figure out what made her wanted. She is my full sister- born 729 days after me. And I know that those 729 days are what made all the difference.
         I guess it comes down to this: what do our biological families owe us? If they promise an open adoption... are they required to tell their families about us? Is it their moral obligation to claim us as their children- in church, in schools, in family functions? Or should we just be happy that they want to know us at all? Should we, along with our adoptive parents, simply accept any crumb of acceptance that we are offered, or should we demand more?
         I know that I am less important than my sister. The given away child, I am painfully aware of my own inadequacy, of my inferiority within my biological family. I, the inconvienence and nasty surprise in their lives, have lived a separate existence. When I express my disappointment in the fact that many of my my biological relatives refuse to acknowledge me, I am told to count my blessings.
                 "at least some of them wanted to know you"
                 "at least you werent aborted"
                  "at least you have a good family that loves you. These people are extra"
     But thats not entirely true, is it? My parents gave me away. And that's a fact. As the unwanted child, am I less? Am I less deserving of my family's love and acceptance? Am I expected to make concessions, just naturally accept the fact that I am less loved, less special? The dirty little secret, the baby thrust from my family of origin.
      As adoptees, we are always expected to make sacrifices to compensate for the fact that our parents gave us to other families. These concessions come so naturally:

         "Well, of course you're less loved, of course you are loved in a different way than your siblings who were kept."
                "Well, it's normal that you are a secret. At least you're alive"
              "It's okay that your whole family doesn't accept you. It was a hard situation. Be happy you have a good family now who loves you."

Natural law and natural circumstances no longer apply to us. The given away children- we are held to different standards, offered different affections. Biology matters to everyone but us. Familial love and loyalty apply to everyone but us. It is natural for a mother to love her child- unless you're adopted. Then you should just shutup and take whatever crumbs your natural family throws your way.

reckoning.

I'm tired of the rationalizations. I'm tired of hearing that we shouldn't be angry, that we should be compassionate and try to understand the complexity and difficulty of the decisions made for us. I'm tired of being the perpetual infant. I'm pretty pissed- and it surprises me that other people aren't. Throughout my reunion, I've tried to be the happy adoptee. I've tried as hard as I can to incoporate both facets of my family  into my life- without minimizing or hurting either side. Both my adoptive parents have been gracious- respecting eachothers positions in my life all the while insisting that theirs is superior.  I have no relationship with my birthmother, but my birthfather and I enjoy a simple coexistence- a mundane sharing of facts and daily happenings of our lives- rarely discussing the reasons I call him by his first name instead of "Dad". I maintain a polite distance, feign an acceptable amount of disinterest. But here's what I'd like to tell him:

There is no excuse. There is no reason you could give me that convinces me that what you did was an admiral choice. I don't admire you, and I certainly don't thank you. Why should I be grateful? That you didn't force my birthmother into an abortion? That you gave me life and then gave me away? What? You picked good parents..thanks a lot. But being given away doesn't feel good- regardless of the fact that you gave me to good people. Stop creating babies that you don't want. Stop trying to claim any facet of my identity. Stop thinking of me "as your daughter". Because I'm not...at least not anymore. And you have no one to thank but yourself. I don't believe that adoption is a selfless option..I don't think its an admiral decision to be made  except in extreme cases. You had money, you had family, you had a house. What could have made you keep me? A few thousands dollars more in the bank? A son instead of a daughter?
I see what you have done a the ultimate betrayal- the breaking of a natural family and a natural law. Everyone says how they can't imagine living without their children, how they can't fathom giving a baby away. Why is it that you could do it? What makes you different than all of the other parents I've ever met?

You can tell me how much you love me until the day one of us leaves this earth. You can call, you can visit. You can be as cold or as loving as you want. I love you. I care about you very much. I never want to hurt you. Which is why I will never tell you that I will never forgive you. We do what we think is best in life. But I don't agree with the decision you made. I don't think you were nobel, I don't think you had my best interests in mind. You were 27 when I was born. I think you wanted your life back, your freedom, your youth. You got all that. Was it worth it? You kept my sister who was born 2 years later under the same circumstances. You remained unburdened for 2 years. Tell me- was it worth it?

Some people say I got a pretty good deal. And maybe thats true. I have a family who loves me, and relationships with birth relatives. After all, I could be nonexistent- a fetus tossed into the incinerator at an unknown hospital in the Bible Belt. I  could have been raised by assholes. I could have been raised by my drug addicted birth mother. Or I could have been like my sister... I could have been raised by you.

I love you. I think we will be in eachothers lives forever. I think this relationship is for life. But it is not natural, this bond we have. It is not what it was supposed to be. And although I am willing to make the best of the situation we find ourselves in... I can't help but look at you sometimes and wonder "why"? I can't help but be angry with the father who wanted me only after it was too late.