Open Adoption, a not objective view

I have never felt 100% comfortable with the idea of an open adoption. Even though I have a few very speicalMy own adoption was semi-closed.. in that my natural parents received yearly photos of me up until my 5th birthday, when my parents simply forgot and stopped sending them. A few years later, my natural father called them- politely requesting that my parents recommence sending the photos that were promised to him. Of course, my parents did so- up until my reunion when I was 12 years old.

My parents will tell you that my adoption was open. Born during world war II- both of them have a very traditional idea of adoption and what it should entail. The fact that they sent photos of me, even though they “didn’t have to” constitutes, for them, an open adoption.

But this is not the concept of open adoption that I would like to explore. I’m more focused on the modern concept of “openness”- where natural and adoptive parents have a communicative relationship for the sake of the child. Said child, in theory, will grow up with less confusion, a lessoned or eliminated sense of abandonment, and valuable information about their biological relatives and genetic history.

It sounds great, doesn’t it? But I’m not so sure. From what I have read (and I’ve read a lot)- open adoption was originally proposed as a more palatable alternative to traditional adoption practices. The theory was that if they were promised ongoing contact, photos, and a relationship with their child- mothers would be more willing to relinquish. It sounds like offering a dog a tasty treat before tossing them off the bridge, rather than pushing them outright. It sounds to me like a ploy. And I don’t like it.

 I am of the idea that adoptions should be rare. Super rare. So rare that is absolutely a last resort for all involved. Convincing capable, healthy, modern women to give up their children with the promise that they can see them is, in my opinion, very, very sad. I don’t think that open adoption will harm a child. I don’t think that extra love can ever be a bad thing. I do think that it is more than likely that the child will have to face different difficulties than those of us from the more closed eras have had to face. All in all, it sounds like it could be a GOOD thing for the child. But its a good thing that is attempting to bandage a bad thing. 

I am against open adoption for one reason and one reason only: it was designed to encourage more women to relinquish. And its worked, hasn’t it? The vast majority of women who are placing nowadays are insisting upon open adoptions. And that is what irritates me. These children, these children who became adoptees, were conceived, born, relinquished and adopted just like the rest of us. The general public is FINALLY accepting the fact that much of adoptee pain is caused by secrecy and lies and shame. But these adoptees in open adoptions? They, in theory, don’t have that secrecy. They were openly relinquished... made to consistently see, every time their natural parents visit, what  they are missing out on. They will see their siblings be born and kept. If the siblings are happy, they will say: wouldn’t I have been happy too?” When they see the joy that the new baby brings their natural family, they will say “why weren’t they happy like that for me?”

And when these adoptees feel these griefs...who will listen to them? Maybe the adoptive parents, even though it will hurt them to hear it. Maybe the natural parents,  if they are capable of seeing that their supposedly “fool proof” relinquishment plan wasn’t all that perfect. But in the world outside of adoption- who will care about these kids? They will say “You’ve got a good family, you got every advantage. You even get to know and have a relationship with your biological family. You’ve got everything..what do you want???”

The world of open adoption is an enticing one. But I see it is a bandaid- a flimsy adhesive made to fix that which has been broken beyond repair. The gooey icing you smear on the cake to hide its bitter taste. These children, the ones being born and placed right now, are adoptees like the rest of us. They have been exiled, like the rest of us. The cast away children- they will be given a rare opportunity to see first hand what all adoptees can imagine- exactly how their natural family has gone on without them. 

The peculiar status of the adoptee...

I've read a few posts recently- most of them discussing the fact that natural mothers and adoptees are equal, and that pain is pain..nomatter where it lands. Those who harp upon their own pain are told, in some of these posts, that adoption is not the worst thing that can happen.

I think that's a pretty fair statement. One must only look in the newspaper- any newspaper- to find stories of those who are worse off than us. It's not hard. Human suffering, sadly, is alive and well in our world. You can read about rape, murder, accidents, and tragedies. It puts being placed for adoption in perspective, doesn't it?

I don't think that adoption pain is more painful than other types of sadness. I don't think its the worst thing that can happen to an infant. I do, however, think that adoptee pain is unique. I think it is unique in many ways..one of them being that we don't have a reference point. We can never say "things were better before the accident" or, " our life was so much more full beforehand." Being adopted is our LIVES. It is our complete existence.  I don't agree that adoptee pain is more valid than that of natural parents. But I do believe it's different.. I do believe that it is not comparable. I do believe that we are the major players in adoption.

 We are the adoptees. We were relinquished, stripped of our original identities and robbed of the most natural of human knowledge. We were placed into adoptive families..some good, some bad. Everyone else in our stories had a hand to play.  Adoptive parents who adopted us, and natural families who relinquished us. Nomatter what anyone says..I will never accept that the nature of choice is the same. That nobody had a say in any of it. As adoptees, we are the ONLY ones who were COMPLETELY and utterly at the whims of the adults in our lives. Mothers from the BSE had no choice, I acknowledge that. But their parents probably had a role in the placements of their grandchildren. Someone had to want it. Adoptees never got to want anything.


So yes.. I suppose that makes me a little biased. I suppose that makes me "unfair" or "insensitive." But I am an adoptee, and I advocate for adoptees. I do believe that we are the most important members of the triad. Not sentimentally- I don't think our FEELINGS matter more. But I think that the other members of the adoption community (adoptive and natural parents) play secondary roles. Because the point remains this: both natural and adotive parents played a ROLE in our adoption- but we are the ONLY ONES who were relinquished and adopted. We are the ones with no reference point, with no idea how the rest of the world functions within their families of origin. We just don't know how it feels to be a part of the family you were born into. And we will never know.. no reunion can fix that.

I am not a selfish person. It's not in my nature. In fact, I might even go so far as to say that I am  an inherently altruistic person. I have never treated my natural family with anything but the utmost respect, love, and compassion. Never. Not once. Even though, frankly, some of them deserve to be smacked. I don't think that I'm the all mighty powerful adoptee, who can wreak havoc on my natural family's lives without consequence or regret. I don't think that. But I do think that I was the one who was placed, and I was the one who was adopted. I don't think its my job to make either set of parents feel good about what they have or haven't done. I am an adoptee...part of a small and often unrecognized minority group. We are the children of parents who gave us to others to raise. And I resent that ANYONE tells us that our positions within the adoption community are all equal. They are not. They have never been. Out of the three parts- only ONE of us has been placed for adoption and has had to live with that.

How has losing my mother affected me?

How has losing my mother affected me?

I had an interesting discussion with my adoptive mother recently, regarding the book "The Primal Wound". I never bought into it... but my mother does! Which surprised me, to say the least.

I've lost my natural mother various times. When I was born, when I was a pre-teen, and two years ago. She has always loved me, though I've gone through  some periods in my life in which I seriously doubted it. How can she have loved me?  Mothers who love their children keep their children. Thats a pretty basic fact. But nothing is basic in the world of adoption. Only in the world of adoption are we introduced, often at a very young age, to the concept of  "love= left."

"Your mother loved you so much that she gave you away."

In what other context does that absurd statement make sense?
Your husband loved you so much that he divorced you.
Your boyfriend loved you so much that he broke up with you.
Your cat loved you so much that she ran away to live with the neighbors.

It all sounds pretty damn stupid, right? Well, it is. I am not an idiot. I don't believe that my mothers love for me is what motivated her to give me to another family. I think my  domineering paternal family, her own insecurities, and my natural fathers threats to break up with her were the more likely catalysts. At the end of the day, though, my mother DID give me away.  You can sugarcoat or rephrase that in anyway you'd like. But I am very sure in my wording.

So where does that leave me? The cast away child, the given away baby... what does that mean for MY existence? For my life?
I am not afraid that my adoptive mother is going to leave me. I am not afraid that one my parents will just stop loving me and pass me along to the next adoptive couple in line. I don't think I'm worthless, I don't think I'm disposable. At least not as the woman I am now. But I am acutely aware of the fact that once my mother gave up her rights to me, I was  a commodity. Like a pair of slippers or a Labrador Retriever. I don't believe that I was preordained by God, or anyone else, to end up in my adoptive family. I belonged with my mother- the one who gave birth to me. Once she didn't want me..nobody did. At least not in the way that most babies are wanted. I was merely "a baby". And whomever adopted me did so because they wanted "a baby"..not because they wanted me. Most parents long for THEIR child, for the baby that THEY created.

My friend (whom I live with) has a blown-up photo of her minutes after birth. She looks confused (as do most newborn babies), and is wrapped in a pink blanket. She hasn't even been dried off. Underneath the photo, there is a handwritten message; saying ( In Italian) " To our niece- the beauty who is much wanted, much loved, and much waited for. We love you, thankyou for being born, Love Aunt & Uncle".

I hate that picture. I hate it so fucking much. I am in her room roughly 6 hours everyday. Our kitchen table is in there ( don't ask) and she has the best breeze. I could draw her room from memory..except the wall near the dresser, where that photo hangs. I don't look there. I purposefully avoid it. It touches something within me, a point of weakness.  It reminds me so much of my biggest flaw, my biggest hurdle in life. My mother gave me away, and then I was nobody. The identity I have forged with my adoptive family has nothing to do with the baby who I was when I was fresh out of the womb.  That child no longer exists.

When people ask me how adoption has affected me...I say "not much". The act of being adopted into my family was not traumatic. I love my family. I feel like I belong with them. The real question, I suppose, is how has my mothers leaving me affected me? How has THAT formed my identity? The answer is: I don't know. I can't know. I don't want to know. I can't bring myself to go there, not on any deep level.

When all of our friends see that photo on my housemates wall, they coo " Oh you were SO CUTE".  The fact that I cannot bring myself to look at that photo without crying says something about the effect my mothers absence has had on my life. The fact that I avoid that entire wall says a lot. In fact, I suspect it says it all.

I don't have any pictures from when I was born.  They don't exist... I've asked my natural family. The earliest I have is when I am about 2 months old, in the arms of my adoptive mother on a stoop in Brooklyn. I'm sleeping. I wonder what I looked like as a newborn. I wonder who was there, who waited for me. But I guess it doesn't matter. The most telling thing is that nobody had a camera.

Extended Dislocation

I've never admitted this before.  Even now as I type these words..I feel guilty. I feel as if I am risking a lot.... as if typing these words will someone make them more true than I already think they are.

I don't fit in sometimes with my  extended adoptive family. My maternal grandparents adore me. My aunts and uncles and cousins...they are all nice to me. But there are many things that have happened over the years that demonstrate to me, sadly, that I am not quite "one of them."

My mother has two brothers.  Both of these brothers have children. These children are all very close- they all share a last name. It came to a point once where one of my cousins went to live with my aunt and uncle due to ideological problems with his parents. When they had a graduation party, I was not invited. When they have joint birthday parties, I am not invited. I find out about these mini-parties at bigger ones- Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween. I see pictures of all of them, at their respective homes, celebrating various occasions. I once overheard one of my aunts complaining to my grandmother  and grandfather that she gave me too much attention, that I wasn't even really "her grandchild" and that the love should be  reserved for her children- the REAL grandkids. I was six. I still remember that day.

My grandparents keep the family together. But I wonder, sometimes, what will happen when they die. Will I still be invited to family dinners...will I still exist? My big Italian/Irish family always goodnaturedly fight at the dinner table. They are 90% Italian and 10% Irish. They argue over which nationality is better. Both my uncles and all of my cousins are members of the NYPD and NYFD...the prestigious and very "clique-y" law enforcement groups in New York City. They all have this bond- they are loud, Italian, New Yorkers. What am I?

This Easter, my cousin announced that he was marrying his girlfriend of 2 months. Everybody at the table knew why...even though nobody said it  out loud. They are both 21 years old.  Later, my grandmother and I spoke in private. She is, of course, disappointed about the 'early' and impending arrival of her first great-grandchild. But, she said, it will be nice to have a baby in the house again.  When someone in my family mentioned adoption ( I dont remember who), she said " No, no. We keep our babies in this family."

I live in Europe..so I heard all of this over the telephone. My grandother apologized to me later, for her "indescretion."

"I didn't mean that bad families don't keep their babies" she said "... I didn't mean that." But  thats exactly what she meant.

Another time, while trying to convince her sons to get good grades as I do, my aunt said "Look at Amanda, look how she gets such good grades and is such a good girl! You all had the BEST start in life. Amanda had it rough, her parents gave her away! You all had the best start, cherished from before you were born. Why can't you get good grades like she does?"
Thanks, Aunt Lisa.

I have two nephews. I love them dearly and they love me.  I call them all the time, I write them colorful letters from the country where I live. I send them handmade, handstitched bedtime stories. I call their mother on mothers day, my brother (their father) on fathers day.  They are nice to me, never forget my birthday, and love me dearly. But... I am afraid I don't matter. I am afraid I am the "adopted" aunt....the "adopted sister" of my brother.  An extra. I don't think my nephews know I am adopted. I am simply "aunt Amanda". But what about when they find out? What will it mean to them?

And so I wonder- is this merely another one of the burdens that we, as adoptees, are "lucky" enough to bear? When my parents are gone... what will I be? What will I become? I am a part of this family because they brought me into it. But when they are no longer here to love me, to be my mom and dad.... will I still be Aunt Amanda? Cousin Amanda? Or will my place in this family disappear.... a bastard baby brought into their midst, but who was never meant to stay?

Not with a whimper

(Me, 7 years old. Looking a lot like the blonde version of my sister.)

My full  sister, Nicole, and I were finally talking. After 10 years of silence and bickering and hatred....we seemed to have gotten over our differences. We were "sisters" on facebook. She joined the police academy, she was making something out of her life. I was proud of her. I was always wary, of course. But I cared about her- I maybe even loved her.

And then, she disappeared. And I let her do it. She saw via facebook that I had been connecting with various members of our mother's family- our cousins, aunts, grandmother. Nicole hates our mother with a passion that is sort of frightening. She saw that I was communicating with them, and she deleted me from facebook. She sent me a message, explaining her actions.

"I do not want to communicate with you anymore", she wrote. "I don't want anything to do with our mother or her family- and I refuse to have anything to do with you if you insist on talking to them. They will burn you as t hey have burned me. And don't come asking me for help- because I will be the first one to tell you " I told you so." I'm not trying to be a bitch, but we can't talk anymore. Good luck...you can't help the helpless."

I could feel the hurt swelling in my chest. I ran into the kitchen to find my friend and housemate, Debora. We smoked a cigarette and I explained to her (in Italian) what had happened. She sat quietly on the kitchen table, blowing smoke rings into the air.  She told me "Amanda, you do not need her. You are a better person. What has your sister EVER done to deserve your loyalty? She has hurt you for years. I know you've been burned by your mother too...I but think you believe in second chances. Everyone, even your mother and her family, deserves a second chance. Your sisters experience is not yours. Don't compromise your compassion for her hatred."

She was right. I knew that my sisters love and acceptance was conditional. "I will love you," she said, "We are sisters". But only if I do exactly as she says. I wrote her a message, explaining that I will not abandon my love for my mother or her family because SHE doesn't approve. I told her I am sorry, oh so sorry, that she cannot accept me for what I am, that she cannot love me despite her hate. But I won't back down- I won't stop communicating with other members of my family because it annoys her.

I believe in redemption. I believe in second chances. I believe that my sister has asked the impossible of me- she is asking me to choose. I thought, for a moment, about ceasing all contact with my maternal family. But then I realized...what kind of sister would ask me to make a choice like that? She cut me out of her life so quickly..she ignored my protests to have a discussion about it. I was dispensable..but why was I suprised?

My mothers family has never been anything but nice to me. They send me postcards from the USA when I am here across the ocean. They send me nice messages, they talk to me about the past- about the future. My sister has given me pain for years. I will not abandon them for her.

And so I say goodbye- goodbye to the sister who has never loved me, goodbye to the sisterhood that we almost had. One day, Nicole, you will realize what you have lost- you will realize that your hate and inability to forgive will hurt you more than anyone else. I believe in second chances. I believe in redemption. I believe that I  owe my mother this.

Nicole- I hope you change your mind one day. I am the only sister you have- the only full-blood sibling. I waited to be your friend for years. I mourn this loss, I  am saddened by your callousness. I know you have been hurt, but  cutting me out of your life will not save you from harm. It means only one thing - you won't have me in your life. I believe in redemption, in atonement, in trying as hard as you can to make right what has gone wrong. There is always a price for adoptees. And I guess losing you is the price I have to pay to love my family, to love my mother.  Though it pains me more than you can imagine...I think I can afford it.

Unintended Victims

I've been thinking a lot lately about the balance of power in reunions, and  the notions that we all "owe" one another.

I cant tell you how much that irritates me. As a disclaimer, I will say that I am very much in favor of respect, cordiality, and common human decency within reunions. I think that in order for a reunion to function, both adoptees and natural parents must treat eachother with mutual respect, understanding, and compassion.

But the notion that the planes are equal is absurd. Of course its not equal. I believe, and am not afraid to say it, that I think adoptees SHOULD hold the cards in regards to reunion.  Why? It's simple. Someone decided to place us for adoption...if not directly our parents, our grandparents. The decision to expel us from our families was made by someone.  To every decision there is a consequence. And one of them, in my opinion, is that the adult adoptee will get to choose whether or not to include their biological families in their lives. In reunion, I believe that we finally are deserving of the power to say "yes" or "no" in regards to our interactions with our biological families. I don't think anyone will argue that adoptees "owe" their natural parents a realtionship or a visit. But what about the kept siblings? What if they want to know their placed sister or brother?

Well...too bad. I feel bad writing those words, but it's how I feel.  My heart aches for the little children who simply cannot understand why their sibling has no interest in knowing them.  And I pity the adoptee who alienates their biological families..especially siblings. Because knowing them can be an enormous gift. But are we obligated? Do we owe it to our parents kept children to be their friend? Sorry... no. Let Mom and Dad  or Grandma and Grandpa explain why little Johnny doesn't live with them anymore. Even if it wasn't  the natural parents choice to place (it happens)- they still need to explain to their kept children about societal pressures, influence, and family injustices. I'm sure the story around the siblings placement isn't a happy one. Relinquishment stories rarely are. But you want to know why mom and dad didnt keep your  sister or brother? You'd better ask mom and dad. Because your sibling was itty bitty when it happened. They had no more control than you have.

Asking anything of the sort of the adoptee is ludicrous. I'm not here to explain to my little sister why our parents gave me away 2 years before she was born. It wasn't my decision, baby doll. And had I been consulted, I probably wouldn't have been in favor of it.

It is a SHAME when children have to pay for adults mistakes or decisions. I know...adoptees are the opitome of children who pay for the actions of adults. We are the spokespeople. Sometimes the sum is heavy, sometimes not so much. But there is always something to pay. There is always a price. I ache for the children who want to know their siblings, for the loving parents who want to know their placed children. I ache, and I wish I could shake some of those adoptees, and say "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LUCKY YOU ARE?? GO PICK UP THAT PHONE, IDIOT!"

Personally? I have never denied a sibling. Or a relative. I have been denied over and over...but I have never rejected a soul. I don't understand adoptees who simply don't care about their natural families. But... I cannot blame them. I cannot criticize them. I think it is their right.

I'm tired of obligations. I'm tired of the argument of " the equal playing field". The field has NEVER been even, my friends. It certainly wasn't when I was born, and it never will be. I still have members of my biological family who can't look me in the eye simply because I exist. My kept siblings have always had their love and affection and acceptance. My sister wants an explanation? Go ask Grandma. Go ask Dad. Go ask mom. Your family decided this. We grew up apart because of them. You have a question? A complaint?  Don't understand how mom and dad could give away one child and keep others? You wanna know your brother? You want an explanation? Don't dial my number, sis. I don't understand it either.
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