Pro-Life, Adoption, & And Child Well-being

I am going to tread, and not very lightly, on a subject that is sure to cause some strong reactions. But, I've come to stir the pot because I believe, and hope, it can bring to light issues that need to be discussed, debated, and dealt with. As a child adopted into an abusive family, and then rejected when a biological child was born, this issue is important to me and for all children period.  People tell me all of the time I should be glad to have not been aborted.  They are shocked and taken back when I tell them very frankly that no, I am not glad really, who would want to be born into a childhood experience of 18 years of emotional, physical, mental, and verbal abuse?  Who would want any other child to?

I live not far from where protesters gather everyday near a woman's clinic with their signs that say “Pray to end abortion”. Their vigils anger me. Not that I am FOR abortion, although I am pro-choice. The point is where will these people be after these children are born? In what capacity are they going to help make certain these babies, and future adults, are safe and protected, fed and clothed, and properly educated? Adoption is not always the happy ending for a child born. What happens to biological families who do not relinquish and keep babies when there is abuse and neglect that already runs in that family? I realize there are no guarantees for anyone in life, but we need to expect that once these children are born, there is a great responsibility that will be placed upon someone.

I live in the Dallas/Ft. Worth metroplex, where there is a great amount of obvious wealth. Texas is listed nine times in the top 100 wealthiest zip codes in the nation. Yet here in the Dallas area, we have one of the highest rates of children living hungry, homeless, and in poverty in the nation. Texas is at the bottom of the nation's list of SAT scores, has a high drop out rate for students almost one third of students do not graduate, and over all, Texas falls nearly last in every educational statistic, including, cutting educational and afterschool programs, and not being competitive with teacher salaries in comparison with other states.  As we are all very well aware of, education is key for a child to have the ability to attend secondary educational institutions, acquire scholarships, and vie with others in opportunities for employment.

In July, 2010 on the Texas Care for Children website, the Annie E. Casey Foundation annual rankings of child well-being in their 2010 Kids Count Data Book for the nation were posted.  The state of Texas performed the worst yet again.  There was a sharp decline in infant health due in part to low birth weights.  And while the rest of the nation has lowered it's infant mortality rate, in Texas it rose 11%.  Six out of every thousand newborns do not make it to their first birthday.  Texas child abuse rates are also higher than the national average.  One social worker, and fellow adoption activist, told me that more children die at the hands of their parents in this area than nearly anywhere else in the country.

There are multitudes of children languishing in foster care, in homeless shelters, in abusive families, and in need of our help already. I see the time and effort these demonstrators exhibit, and as a fellow activist, I understand they are doing what they believe is best. But, if we took care of children when they are young we would not be needing to provide for them as adults in penal institutions, and social service programs, later in life.  We would not be burying them before their time.

Wouldn't time be better served for our children if we took care of the ones that are already here? If these people are pro-life why not advocate for the lives of children that are in need now? Perhaps some are, but obviously not enough. As activists raising awareness for their cause, that of life for unborn babies, life is not just being born it is the years that follow.  We are failing miserably at it here.

I am not just an adoption activism, I am an advocate for children. I vote, I donate when and where I can, I have volunteered with school programs, I have been teacher and child care administrator, and I speak up for the children that are here, and those who have no voices yet. These children will be our future if first, we give them a fighting chance.  So really, in truth, I am "Pro-Life".

A Special Adoption Reunion Story

As most people know I carry my adoption reform soapbox with me wherever I go.  I'm usually retaliating against the closed records adoption system in whatever way I can, and advocating for truth and honesty in adoption.  Have mouth will travel.  But, no matter how many diatribes we write, studies and statistics we quote, I truly believe our personal stories speak volumes too.  I call this adoption reunion story special because it's special to me as I was fortunate to witness it firsthand.  I will never forget it.

I was at work and in the course of some down time there I was relaying my adoption situation. I had a coworker speak up to say he was also adopted and was looking to find his family of origin and we immediately bonded over this and became friends.  I took down the information I had for him and went home.  Thankfully, there are so many adoption search angels that excel in finding biological family members and I contacted one I knew well.

My friend had his non-identifying adoption information from his adoption file, along with some identifying information, and knew that he had been adopted around the age of one.  He had been told his first mother had other children and his first father had left the situation and that she did not have the resources to support all of her children.  Hence my friend, the youngest, had been placed for adoption.

He, like me, had not bonded with his adoptive family and had never felt as though he was at "home".  He was not close to his adoptive family or other family members and he had, as I had, always felt like a loner in the world.  His story felt so similar to mine and I was on a mission to try and help him get some closure.  I contacted a searcher I had worked with and gave her all of the information my friend had.  Luckily he did have his first mother's name and some good basic identifying information.  We were hopeful.

The searcher I contacted came back with a woman whose name, although a different married last name, and date of birth matched what my friend had provided me with.  Her address was also in the same basic area my friend had said he had been adopted out of.  I took the info, did some further research on my own, and finally had in hand a phone number that I thought matched the woman we were looking for.  I told my friend that I thought this is the woman I believed could be his first mother and he agreed that I should contact her for him in case she did not want to hear from him.

Nervously, I dialed the phone.  A man answered and I asked for the woman we were looking for.  He said "Just a moment" and put down the phone.  I heard a woman answer "Hello" and I took a deep breath and asked her if this was "insert name" and if my friend's date of birth meant anything to her.  There was a moment of silence and she said no.  I restated what I was asking her and she said again, that no, she was not the person I was looking for.  I apologized for interrupting her and thanked her for her time.  I was disappointed to say the very least, and down hearted as I felt badly for my friend whose hope was going to be deflated.  I knew he was waiting to hear what I had found so I made that phone call that is always so hard to make.

We spoke and I related to him what this woman had said and I did the best I could to help keep his chin up knowing that nothing can take away the loss that comes with not being able to locate your biological family.  Especially, for those of us who have been rejected and denied by our adoptive families it is a double whammy.  A few days went by and the phone rang.  I answered it.  I heard a man ask if I had called "insert first mother's name" a few days back.  I said yes that I had.  I heard his voice quiver and ask if this was in relation to "insert my friend's name".  I said yes.  I could ascertain by the inflection in his voice he was trying to hold it together as best as he could and he stated that yes this was in fact the person that I was looking for, and that he was his biological brother.  It hit me all at once that if I had not known better I could swear I was speaking to my friend on the phone.  Their voices were identical!  Apparently, his mother was very ill and surprised by my call.  She had been surrounded by other people in the room and did not feel comfortable speaking to me at the time about the son she had relinquished.  But, that she did want to know him and how he was.

It was then my friend's biological brother broke down some more and said he had been a few years older  and had always wondered where the little boy he used to play with went.  I was also having a hard time not becoming emotional as I was so moved by this brother who had obviously never recovered from the unexplained absence of his little brother.  I told him how similar their voices were and that they were obviously brothers.  He spoke of the circumstances of their childhood, his mother's dilemma trying to take care of her children by herself no family to help, and the fact that none of them had ever forgotten him but had no way of knowing where he was at.  I asked for his phone number and could I give it to my friend he immediately said yes.

I called my friend who was absolutely thrilled and took the phone number I had for his brother.  A day later he called to tell me he and his brother had spent hours on the phone.  The similarities that ran in their lives, including their voices, were proof that genetics speak loudly and clearly.  We, as adoptees, are the ones who know what weight and the importance of heredity carries.

I moved, my friend moved, and we lost touch.  I do not know to this day the total outcome of their story.  I know that they had plans to spend time together and for my friend to meet his biological mother and the rest of his siblings.  What I do remember hearing is two men brought back to being little boys when life split them apart, returning to recover that portion that had been lost and covered up, and making up for missing years.  I heard healing and joy.  I heard pain overcome and hearts reunited.  I hope for them the best.

Life is not a fairy tale nor do adoptees expect one.  We are only asking for the truth.  Our lives are based on changed names, changed dates, and falsifications and lies and we know, better than anyone, that truth is always better than fiction.

Hard Truths About Adoption

I was responding to a comment regarding an article post about the hard truths in adoption and it turned into quite a lengthy response. It was then I realized I'd really written a whole adoption activism blog.  Just add an adoptee poem and VOILA!

I never deal in absolutes and view anything as black or white nor do I with adoption either. Each of us have our own stories and experiences however, there is no question that adoption has long been in need of a major overhaul and that is greatly understated. This is the bottom line for me in what I have learned, experienced, and have seen over my 51 years of being adopted, along with, being educated in adoption activism and reform.

There are variables in adoption that makes creating families very different. I state the obvious first. There is a constant comparison to the poor formation of biological family in comparison to adoptive families. They are apples and oranges. Adoption brings to the table factors, large important ones, that are missed and overlooked by those that create adoption law and policy. Our world revolves around family heredity, rituals, and celebrations. Only those of us who have been disconnected from it truly see this and it is magnified in our pain, loss, and sorrow.

There are no biological or genetic connections to an adoptee's adoptive family and much, not all, of the time adoptees “feel” it whether in good adoption situations or not. In studying child psychology even prior to my venture into adoption education and activism I learned that children raised outside their families of origin attachment disorders and abandonment issues occur no matter the health of the relationships and bonds from adoptee to adoptive parent. It's hard to develop a sense of self when you have no idea who you are. Only in adoption are genetics whitewashed as unimportant.

When we allude to the fact that money is that factor in relinquishing a child to adoption yet give tax breaks for adoption it's hypocritical to say the very least. I am not here to argue the fact that there are children in need of good homes. I am here to try and change the way it is done IF it needs to be done at all. Family preservation should be first and foremost especially if there are extended family members who are willing and able to care for the child.

Adoptee's are bound by contracts made by other people they had no say in. Adoptee's are restrained by laws that only apply to them while every other citizen of this country enjoys the freedom to contact their biological family and, we can even be penalized and jailed for it. This freedom is taken for granted by the rest of the nonadopted world. Adoptees are treated as commodities and property. If adoption is to function at all this needs to stop.....now.

The evolution of thought and practice in adoption has not even begun to function in the best interests of the child it is supposed to provide for. It still operates for the best interest of adoptive parents and the agencies and institutions that proft from it either monetarily and or, in maintaining control of the status quo and perpetuating it's existence. I was more than surprised and excited to see in 2000 at an adoption conference workshop and seminar when the question was asked how many people attending who were first parents and adoptees becoming adoption professionals two thirds of the room raised their hands. Encouraging to say the least that if adoption has to be it will be done by those whose are not ignorant, uneducated, or whose interests are perpectuated by monetary gain.

The voices of adoptees have long been ignored. That will be no longer be the case as we are here to continue to be heard and acknowledged in our quest to make certain the archaic and outdated system of adoption changes if not for ourselves for others.

 

Birth Bonds - The Severing of Biology in Adoption

As leaf to tree, as flower to bee, as cloud to sky and rain.
Like foot to toe, and face to nose, and person to a name.
Together these, like fish to sea, forever will belong.
Just as notes an artist wrote, or lyrics to a song.
Like tracks to a train this perpetual chain is what the world is based on.
There are links between each living thing and dusk that turns to dawn.
A stopped hand on the clock, a lost key to a lock, are vital connections gone.
Like pasts left behind, that we need to find, in order to carry on.
I hope you know what I'm trying to show, the point I'm attempting to make.
Like a child to it's mother, or sister and brother, some bonds aren't meant to break.

It still continually surprises me, after 12 years of involvement in adoption reform and education, that people do not grasp the vastness of having your genetic and biological foundation taken from you when you are adopted.  Only through our eyes, those that can clearly see, can anyone comprehend that the world revolves around family and heredity everyday, and through generations that came before them.  It was said best by the honorable Judge Weatherford to an adoptee upon their petition to open adoption records.

"The law must be consonant with life.  It cannot and should not ignore broad historical currents of history.  Mankind is possessed of no greater urge than to try to understand the age-old questions:  "Who am I ?", and "Why am I?"   Even now the sands and ashes of the continents are being sifted to find where we made our first steps as man.   Religions of mankind often include ancestor worship in one way or another. For many the future is blind without sight of the past.   Those emotions and anxieties that generate our thirst to know the past are not superficial and whimsical.  They are real and  they are "good cause" under the law of man and God."   -  Hon. Wade Weatherford, S. Carolina Circuit Court Judge

Thankfully there are those out there who are recognizing an adoptee's right to their biological background.  I've seen great progress in the last few years.   But, it is far from enough.  Money has and is still playing the largest part in separating children from their parents and extended family.  I was sickened recently in finding an adoption website that claimed to do extensive "birthmother marketing".  Along with the claim "Some of our adoptive parents had babies within as little as four months".  What is next "negotiable down payment", "money back guarantee", or "low monthly payments"???

Those in charge of this have no real understanding of the life long devastating effects of closed records adoptions.  Wait, strike some of that, they do but are too caught up in the profits and benefits from the adoption machine and they refuse to listen those harmed by this system.  Why are people who have no true understanding of any aspects of adoption involved with the daily function and perpetuation of it?  They act as sheep blindly being hearded by groups such as NCFA who are wolves...and yes...as you guessed it...in sheep's clothing.  They profit off of our our pain and suffering in the guise of creating "families".

Let the voices of adoptees be heard.  We are more numerous than you think.  So many are out there feeling lost, alone, and misunderstood seeking and searching, as I was for so many years, who have not found their voices yet.  Until that time we will speak for them.



 

Erased - An Adoptee's Loss of Heredity and Family History

 Erased

An emptied soul stands alone.
They erased who I was and gave me a new home.
Now lies not truth where my life used to be.
How could they take that away from me?
Did they really believe I'd never question,
what they gave me as a definition?
Of this person I was supposed to become,
and never look back on where I came from?
Where does one really draw the line
on how much past you can leave behind?
They expect out of us what they themselves could not do.
Despite what they say I am searching.
Wouldn't you?

Many of us have been over in the ACLU's comment section educating others regarding adoptee rights this week over the ACLU's stance against our legislative efforts for open access to original birth certificates.  I thought this poem fit the scenarios we've encountered in continued opposition from the misinformed masses.  I am still baffled and amazed that people just don't get it when it comes to granting adoptees the same rights as other citizens.  I am sick and tired of being called selfish, ungrateful, and the newest accusation that we live in a fantasy land.  As I responded to this poster yes you are EXACTLY right!  Ammended birth certificates with changed names, dates, and birth places ARE a fantasy world.  And who wouldn't want the truth about their origins and more importantly, have the right to them upon request?

Why is it the geneology fervor that is so popular now and has become a family hobby for so many people not be ours too?  Why is it when adoptee's ask for their own biological and genetic information we are shut down and treated differently?  What is it about not wanting to live a life filled with untruths, half truths, and lies that people can't grasp?


I am supposed to be on vacation this week but as any writer knows when the inspiration hits you have to get it down or it can easily be lost.  It's just so hard to take a vacation from adoption because it IS our life we live it every day.  So this blog will be brief but I have so much more so say about the ACLU's failure to support adoptee rights on a continual basis.

For now I'll go spend some time with my family who thankfully understand my need to continue to work towards openness, honesty, and truth in adoption and my passion for adoption education.   Maybe one day I'll be spending time with my first family.  I'll never give up hope.  Everyone have a safe and fun filled Holiday weekend.

The much dreaded adoptee birthday

How do you really explain to people in the "nonadopted" world what your birthday as an adoptee truly means?  That it is probably the one day a year you dread more than any other because it is the most gut wrenching emotional day you share with your first mother.  Especially since twelve years ago I was given one of the best birthday gifts an adoptee could hope for, acknowledgement that your birthday was not forgotten and instead, you were remembered.

August 24, 1999 a date I will never forget I received via the court a 40th birthday card.  From the prior non-id letter exchange I had told her all about myself part of which is that I collect shells, baskets, love to garden and to write, and my favorite color was green the color of "our" eyes.  She had found a green Hallmark card with a basket filled with ivy, shells, with a pen and a pencil on it. I wonder how long it took her to search to find that card, the obvious time she must have spent, and how symbolic it was.  She was "listening" to what I had said and then signed it "Love, your Birthmother".  I remember holding the card in my hands knowing her hands had touched it.  I didn't want to let it go.  Little did I know this would be the last contact I would have from her.

It's gotten better over the years I am in good company in the adoption community.  I know now I am not alone in how I feel and that validation is worth millions in alcohol and or therapy.  I know that what I want and need to fill my life is not something I can "get over", "forget", or see as anything other than a tragedy that is the separation from my first mother.  That primal wound thing that will never go away that so many of us have to deal with year after year.


I've done my best in adoption educating and reform to get people to see that adoption is NOT all about creating a happy and loving family, it FIRST destroys one.  That's how I feel on my birthday destroyed and devastated for what could have been for a mother that wanted to keep her child but society and her family at her young age of 17 offered her no options other than to be hidden away and forced to relinquish her own flesh and blood.  Happy Birthday?  I think NOT.

My adoptive parent never remember my birthday and continually forget. They can't help it this day holds no real meaning for them they didn't know me until I was two weeks old.  My first parents won't acknowledge me let alone the day I was born.  How can you celebrate this type of pain?  Why would anyone want to?


I pray someday my first mother can come forward and break free from the secrets and stories that hide my existence.  I want to know my siblings.  I want and NEED to know the faces and names from where I came.  I want that for my children too.  I hope this all makes sense it so hard to type through tears.


So, I'll repost this poem I wrote about ten years ago.  I still holds true to this day.  It probably always will.

Unhappy Birthday

There were no birth announcements.
No cigars were handed out.
No newborn baby pictures.
No parent's joyous shouts.
No counting toes and fingers.
No comparing eyes and chins.
No nursery decorated.
No proud grandparent grins.
Instead the day that I was born,
a mother silently wept.
While in a room close to her,
her newborn daughter slept.
So close we were together.
So far we're now apart.
Two lives were separated.
A love doomed from the start.
And so each year since I was born,
this day has been the same.
No one can know the sadness.
No one can know the pain.
No candles ever bright enough
to light my darkened soul.
No happy birthday party.
No heart that can be whole.

Unclaimed - Adoptive and Birth Parent Rejection

Unclaimed

Never wanted, never named.
Long forgotten, never claimed.
Forever hidden, always rejected.
Held a secret, never accepted.
Unacknowledged, left alone.
Disregarded, kept unknown.

I wrote this poem last night it wraps up the words that come to my mind being twice rejected by adoptive and birth family.  I wish the nonadopted world knew how much every conversation, comment, day, hour, is filled with family terms.  Mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandparents, daily conversations revolve around subject matter regarding family plans, future, holidays, and history.  I told my friend who I have been preaching to who is attached at the hip to her family, and yes I know this can also by extremely painful and exhausting too, the total opposite is the worst hell and pain I could almost believe anyone could bear.

Many Adoptees can have such a hard time feeling they belong many times caught between two worlds.  One we don't feel familiar with and another totally unknown to us.  We are not blank slates waiting to be written on we are hereditary creatures formed from biology and then shaped by our environment.  Only in adoption are genetics white washed as unimportant.  We are made to fit into nurture which our very nature can disagree with so much of the time.

"The need to identify with someone, to feel a part of something, to belong somewhere, is one of our most basic needs."  John Bradshaw

Let's conduct an experiment.  Let's have everyone carry around a pad and paper that tells us it doesn't matter, don't think about it, move on with our life and have them place a mark for every time in a 24 hour period a family member came up in their daily conversation, thought, and experience.  Then have them do the math on 24-7-365.  I think this could be quite eye opening.


For many of us this is a double whammy rejected by both our adoption and birth families.  My birth family feels my adoptive family is my family and don't rock the secret that is my existence.  And, my adoptive family feels I've betrayed them by becoming the exact opposite of nearly everything they believe in and wanted me to be.  Parental Rejection...it rocks the foundation of what nearly every individual's life is based upon, family connections and relationships and leaves us watching with unfathomable sadness through a window from outside into a world where we don't belong.