Looking back with new eyes
Jan 16, 2007 Adoption
So I’m emailing with Shannon to try to make sense of the ways my feelings about adoption have changed since we adopted Madison. I’ve wanted to write about it but it’s complicated and I don’t feel like I have the vocabulary for it.
If I knew now what I knew then, I like to think that I wouldn’t have adopted the way we adopted. I feel more strongly about adoption reform now even though I know it’s hypocritical for me to rant and rail about it from the safe vantage point of a completed adoption. (Easy for me to say, right? Easy for me to point my finger at short revocation periods when I already got my baby after a scant 72 hour wait.) But I’m saying it anyway.
I get grouchy when people dismiss my feelings about adoption as “guilt.” It sounds so dismissive and it simplifies my very complicated feelings. Guilt is usually a pretty hopeless and selfish emotion (”If I feel guilty, it’s like I’m being proactive”) and so certainly there have been times where I hung up the phone feeling guilty but there’s little point in it. It’s more that I feel responsible — I am conscious of the unique responsibilities of adoptive parenthood.
I don’t feel responsible for Jessica’s feelings (although anyone who has read my Salon piece knows that wasn’t always true) or even for Madison’s feelings, but I do feel responsible to not stick my fingers in my ears and go “la la la” when they say something that’s hard for me to hear. I feel, given that I am Madison’s mother even though I am no more or less deserving than her first mom, I feel very humbled by my privilege. Not just the privilege of being mother to Madison but also the privilege that allowed me to be on the receiving end of the adoption system.
Feeling humbled and feeling responsible (because with power/privilege comes responsibility) makes me want to be über-honest with myself about our adoption and when I am über-honest with myself, I can see the spaces in our adoption where things were not as fair or just as they should have been.
Then the question is, what do I do about that? I can’t turn back time. I can’t undo anything that happened on the way here. And the answer is this: I can acknowledge the truth of our adoption (the good and the bad) and not be tempted to ignore pressing issues of adoption reform because by recognizing those issues, I recognize that our adoption was not as ethical as it should have been. (Again, the glaring thing to me is the revocation period — or lack thereof.) Because when it comes right down to it, I want for every potential birth parent what I would want for my own children if they were confronted with a crisis pregnancy because why should anyone deserve less than my own kids?
Of course the truth is there are a million things I could fixate on (today I listened to an interview about healthcare reform and got myself in a dither about kids without health insurance, for example) but given that adoption hits many of my passions — motherhood, in/fertility, reproductive choice, kids — it’s no wonder that it’s kept my attention for this long.
Back to guilt. Sometimes I feel sad because people I love are hurting. (And with open adoption, that’s part of the trade-off — you can’t pretend that nobody is ever sad.) It’s tempting to get stuck in guilt when this happens but I can usually rouse myself with Brett’s help and remind myself that feeling guilty is a pretty selfish reaction to someone else’s grief. It’s kinda like when you’re dating someone and it’s new and you’re young and insecure and the person says, “Thanks for coming over but I kinda need some alone time.” And you say, “But didn’t I cheer you up? Don’t you love me? Don’t you need me? Why do you want to be away from me?” And suddenly it’s about you and not your new boy/girl friend’s unhappiness. (I speak from experience having spent several years as the cloying, strangling, insecure girlfriend to a series of understandably distant men.) That’s what guilt in an adoption is kinda like. But you (I mean, I) don’t want to just ignore that grief either. So for me, I’m inspired to meet it head on and not flinch and not get caught up in needing reassurance that it’s all ok and I’m in the clear. Bearing witness to the hard parts of adoption feels like the least I can do and in many ways being that witness has blessed me because it gives me new appreciation for the people who matter to me.
My feelings about adoption in general and our adoption in particular sometimes don’t run into each other the way one might think. Because I have these larger feelings about adoption reform and then the smaller feelings about how adoption reform might have played out in our adoption and then very intense, somewhat disconnected feelings about my family, in which adoption has played such an important part.
I told Shannon that our family seems beyond laws, including the adoption laws. I felt that from the moment I connected with Jessica but truly understood what I was feeling when the judge, at our formal adoption hearing, spent so much time reiterating that Jessica had no (legal) rights and I felt so offended (as did Brett) even though I knew the judge was just doing his job.
See, beyond the reform that wasn’t a part of our adoption and beyond the ideas we had about adoption before we started (all of us, Jessica included) is the truth of our family. We are not the family that any of us expected. I didn’t know that our open adoption would transform all of us. I thought a theoretical woman would be our theoretical child’s birth mom and that our relationship with her would be hemmed in by strict boundaries compartmentalizing our child’s adoption. (I believe Jessica had similar preconceptions because at our first meeting she made a point of saying that she would understand if we didn’t tell the baby who she was at her very occasional visits.) As it (happily) turns out, Jessica is clealry family to all of us, something Noah gave words to early on when he was crushed to hear that there wasn’t a name for who Jessica is to him. (”If she’s my sister’s birth mother then what is she to me?”) It’s not just that adoption made Madison possible to us; it made our family possible, period, because the family we are now is not the family we were when we headed into this. We couldn’t have known that.
So it’s all very interconnected. I am incredibly grateful for adoption and all it has given us (all of us) and all the possibilities, emotions, explorations and discoveries. To say I would not do it in the same way had I to do it over again is really a silly thing for me to say because I would not know that if I hadn’t done it in the first place. It was doing adoption in just this way with just these people that most changed my thinking about adoption. (Oh the irony!) So I would not change my relationships to these people that I love but I would change the legalities that surround us, even knowing that changing the legalities might also mean changing the relationships.
(I have been thinking about this entry for about a month and I think I finally nailed it for myself.)
January 16th, 2007 at 10:36 pm
Dawn, man, put a tissue warning on entries like these. A little graphic of a tissue box will suffice.
I’m going to forward this on to Denise and possible strike up a conversation or two.
This was so poignant, so deeply connected with a lot of my feelings. I want to drive to your house, give you a big hug and then make you some tea while we discuss things. It’s calming to see these words, from the other side of the triad, and know that I’m not totally alone in all of my thought processes.
The adoption world is beyond lucky to have you in its ranks. No, you may not have the most ethical adoption in the world. God knows I didn’t. Strong voices are needed in every single cause on the planet. Strong voices that can touch the hearts and souls of the people who need to listen.
You do that, Dawn. You do that.
January 16th, 2007 at 11:28 pm
Strong voices are always a good thing, I’m glad I have one. Dawn I think you are being too hard on yourself, how is it that you see your adoptin is unethical? Is it the 72 hour thing? Maybe Jessica would have changed her mind if she’d had more time?
I think it’s good to put energy into educating people and changing the laws. As a foreign person looking at the way adoption is done in America I am really disgusted and shocked. It looks so backward and barbaric and a lot of what is taken as standard practise is seen as unethical in other countries.
No wonder all the rich Dutch people run to America to get babies, it’s all too easy.
The fact that you have a friendship with Jessica and open up your home and family to her is to me like a fairy tale situation. You have to compare your situation to adoptions not too long ago, you are already part of a huge revolution and change.
Us old timers experience with adoption was very very different, we come from the days of being truly exiled. We have reunion to deal with and navigate with no map. We are strangers to our children and we are ignored by our children’s parents.
The idea of being present at our children’s birthday parties or being allowed to even give them a Christmas/Holiday season present is too incredible to imagine.
Please don’t be too hard on yourself.
Had you been my daughter’s mother I think my life would have been VERY different.
I agree with Jenna, the adoption world is beyond lucky to have you here.
Thank you for adding your voice to ours.
January 16th, 2007 at 11:30 pm
Sorry I meant we WERE strangers to our children. I now have found a wonderful friend in my daughter.
January 16th, 2007 at 11:38 pm
When I think of adoption reform I think of what the working adoptions I know did intuitviely, naturally- because it was the right thing, not because it was the law- to become law. First families shouldn’t have to hope adoptive familes do the right thing, it should be a guarantee.
There were things that I wish were different in our adoptions, but I don’t wish to do them over. We would just make other mistakes then. No relationship or system is flawless, and I can live with the mistakes and misunderstandings that were made. More importantly I have assurances from Noelle and Mallory that they can live with them as well.
I want adoption reform. I want more adoptive parents and first parents to obsess over the system and figure out how to make it best for all involved.
January 17th, 2007 at 12:30 am
And adoptees Lisa and adoptees!!!
January 17th, 2007 at 2:00 am
Dawn, what a beautifully written, heartfelt, thoughtful, intelligent post. There are more superlatives, there ARE, but I’m tired.
Of course my experience is different since we adopted internationally. Very different. But I understand feeling guilty and then trying to work against that. I have felt some guilt and occasionally that comes back again — guilt when I realize the enormous loss that Nate’s first mother has experienced. But in the end, you’re right, the guilt ends up being more about me. And, it’s just not productive. It doesn’t help me to be a better mother to Nate and that’s not honoring her or doing what I set out to do which is be the best mother I can be for him.
I’m not as articulate as you are, but I love, absolutely LOVE what you’ve written. Thank you.
January 17th, 2007 at 6:27 am
wonderfully wirtten, and moving.
not just in terms of adoption and adoption reform, but also in terms of how to transform guilt into listening and learning.
January 17th, 2007 at 8:06 am
I really should write an entry about this sort of. Now that I know where the cards are on the table approximately, it is blatantly clear that where I am with regards to adoption and my adoption tale, compared to Bj’s family is opposite ends of the spectrum. I really am worried that because of the closed nature of the adoption, plus my real lack of being able to formulate what I would ever want to say to Bj but without dumping my stink all over him… I’m just stuck in a chair waiting and biding my time. This really deserves it’s own post though, part having to do with my lack of doing something, part based on relating to the girls that went away, and part about the above of not wanting to make them my dumping ground.
January 17th, 2007 at 12:45 pm
What a moving post, and what a wonderful family you have. I’d be interested in learning more about the specifics of domestic adoption reform as you see it should happen, just because I don’t know a whole lot about it. How would you change the legalities?
January 17th, 2007 at 2:04 pm
[...] Rambling About First Mothers and Regret January 17, 2007 at 7:04 am | In adoption | Dawn’s amazing post, Looking Back With New Eyes, inspired me to share something that I wrote back on Dec. 18, 2006. I can’t claim to have the same way with words that Dawn has and this isn’t on quite the same subject, but it’s related. [...]
January 17th, 2007 at 2:33 pm
Thanks, Dawn, for this great post. As usual, you give me so much to think about.
My husband and I, as wannabe adoptive parents, are working on our home study and trying to figure out the next step. We live in a state with either a 12 or 24 hour revocation period (not sure which, but both are short), and the agency we like (for its ethical practices and respectful, noncoercive treatment of birthparents, as far as we can see) is also in a state with this short period. I find the short period terribly problematic as well, but as a potential adoptive parent pursuing infant adoption it seems hard to avoid being involved in a situation in which that 12 or 24 hour period will be in play.
If this is beyond the scope of what you want to get into, please don’t feel obligated to respond, but I’m interested, as someone at the beginning of this process who wants to be as ethical as possible without giving myself the illusion I can control every factor involved (a fault of mine): When you say you wouldn’t have done what you did if you knew what you know now–what specific advice would you have for people who want very much to adopt, and very much to do so in a way that honors the autonomy of birth parents, and live in a state with such an unholy short revocation period? I don’t want to take over your comments, but if you have any wisdom to offer I would love hear it.
January 17th, 2007 at 2:42 pm
Well, I can’t speak to what other people should do and I want to make that really clear. The laws are backwards and the truth is there’s not a whole lot we can do about that in the immediacy of our adoptions.
This is what I wish I had done. In Ohio a parent can contest a placement if they can prove coercion. They have 30 days to do that. I wish that we had said to Jessica, “If you contest within those 30 days you won’t have to prove anything because we will hand her over to you.” Brett and I discussed that with each other *but we never said it to her* and that’s my number one biggest regret. I don’t know if saying it would have made a difference, I don’t know if it would have even been appropriate (I think that hearing that from us might have been too much but we could have asked the social worker to convey this to her). But again, it is really really really really really easy for me to say that now that Madison is 2.75 and it’s not even a possibility.
So that’s what I wish I had done but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, right?
And again, this is just *my* regret and is not a comment on anyone else’s adoption.
January 17th, 2007 at 3:18 pm
Thanks, Dawn.
January 17th, 2007 at 4:37 pm
Dawn! Thanks, though, for telling us that, because it never even occured to me. I’m going to check our state laws and see if there’s something similar and talk it over with Cole. Because I worry about a pre-birth “match” now that we are waiting again and how to handle it should it happen to us this time (last time we were not matched until after birth and after final relinquishments).
I have thought about telling our agency we only want to be considered for what they call “waiver babies” whom they have been given by social services or a first mother and are charged with finding parents for without the first mother’s input, after final relinquishment. But those situations are far less likely to lead to open adoptions, which we also strongly desire.
Your “no contest” idea is a really good compromise.
Thanks.
January 17th, 2007 at 5:33 pm
Thanks Dawn, for your eloquence. You have voiced many of my own feelings. It’s hard sometimes to tell people “Yes, there are difficult emotions even for an adoptive mom”. I appreciate you!
January 18th, 2007 at 2:01 am
I have such a hard time with this, as you’ve stated so well, because far too many people I talk to about it want to label my hindsight ethical knowledge as guilt. And it’s not guilt, it’s knowing that if I had only known what I know now, I would have done things differently.
But how could I have known what was worrisome about being an adoptive parent until I did it, using the questionable methods available to do it?
January 18th, 2007 at 2:10 am
Yes! Phoenix! Thank you thank you! And people want me to SHUT UP and they say, “Oh you’re just feeling guilty!” Like it doesn’t matter if I’m only saying it out of guilt! Or they say, “Oh but you’re so GOOD to Jessica!” As if 1) I’m “good” to her only because I feel guilty; or 2) That treating her with the kindness and respect she deserves as a HUMAN BEING and MOTHER TO A DAUGHTER WE SHARE makes up for any of the injustice inherent to domestic infant adoption.
Also, I wanted to add (not related to your comment or any of the comments here) that I do not speak for Jessica (obviously) and any feelings she has around the adoption are separate (obviously) from the feelings *I* have around the adoption although of course I am always deeply impacted by what she shares with me and grateful that she lets me in even when it’d be easier not to.
January 18th, 2007 at 4:18 pm
Dawn, I’ve read and re-read your post several times and each time I am so blown away by how thoughtful, generous and sensitive you are.
Recently I’ve been involved in several adoptions, from a facilitator standpoint, and each one of them has broken my heart. And some of them were situations that might have been different with different laws, but most of them are just people doing what they do, out of fear or shame or denial or greed or whatever. (I know I am being SUPER vague here, but unfortunately I can’t say more) And I stand to the side, really not able to do anything, just witness things that I know are not going to be ultimately good for the parties involved. Sigh.
I do believe in adoption reform, but beyond that, there is human behavior, and what people do even within good legal guidelines.
January 19th, 2007 at 1:22 am
Dawn,
I love what you wrote about guilt. It is a selfish emotion, and ultimately unproductive. I was raised to self-flagellate (metaphor!), and the waste of time it has caused in my own life is a shame. Oh my god! I’m feeling guilty about feeling guilty!
As we’re adopting internationally, the possible guilt could spiral out of control (considering the numerous global inequities). But it won’t do our kids any good, nor their first families, nor us. We’ll try to be proactive in facing the uncomfortable questions and feelings we’ll all encounter — from others and from one another. Thanks, yet again, for writing so eloquently about your family. It’s exciting to hear about the lifetime of exploration and discovery ahead, and to imagine that our family can experience something similarly wonderful and yes, complicated, but ultimately incredible.
e
January 19th, 2007 at 7:41 pm
Or they say, “Oh but you’re so GOOD to Jessica!†As if 1) I’m “good†to her only because I feel guilty; or 2) That treating her with the kindness and respect she deserves as a HUMAN BEING and MOTHER TO A DAUGHTER WE SHARE makes up for any of the injustice inherent to domestic infant adoption.
This is what gets me worst. When someone who has heard me talking about what we do in our child’s birth country responds with some version of, You don’t have any reason to feel guilty about saving your child from a terrible life!
Which is not as different as it sounds–it’s another version of the same happy-talk you get for being respectful toward Jessica, in which having the privilege to adopt makes us somehow entitled to parent our kids and therefore above taking note of where they came from. Because apparently raising my child is supposed to be my version of keeping the ethical contract…except that I wanted this kid, raising her is not a burden that absolves me of obligation or even reflection.
And I just get steamed, and I don’t know that it’s even effective, to spell out that I don’t feel guilt, I feel connection. And it’s that connection, to people with whom I feel spiritual equality in the absence of any practical equality, that drives me to want their circumstances to be better.
I think that same drive would be at work if we had taken the referral of a child who was SN domestic adoption–I’d be asking, seven years on, Why the hell can’t a couple who are working but extremely poor afford to get their baby’s medical conditions addressed? Isn’t that wrong, regardless of the fact that I got the World’s Cutest Baby out of the deal?
January 22nd, 2007 at 11:13 pm
So well said. And you know, even in a case like our adoption, where the likelihood of meeting and reuniting and becoming extended family may not be very high, just THINKING about our children’s families as our family has changed the way I view adoption. It has made thousands of Korean women real to me, has made the circumstances that led them to adoption something I’m responsible for addressing.
Thanks for putting these thoughts into beautiful words.