I recently finished the book, "The Girls Who Went Away" by Ann Fessler. It is a must-read for anyone who is interested in domestic newborn adoption. It has the stories of several women who relinquished their babies for adoption in the late 50's-early 70's. My only complaint is that it is very repetitive, so you'll get the picture even if you only read a few chapters. Each story was unique, but the most important aspects were repeated over and over.
My first response to the book was, "Thank goodness that a lot has changed since then". For all of the women, they never met the adoptive parents or met the child until their child was an adult, if at all. They were often lied to about the adoptive parents, even major stuff like occupation or even race. The adoptive parents were often lied to about the birthmothers. Worse, the birthmothers were not offered counseling about what was happening. They were not told anything about what to expect during the delivery, and almost all of them birthed completely alone (only nurses and the doctor, but nobody the girl knew). They were told repeatedly that adoption was their only option. Therefore, they did not choose adoption, it was chosen for them. They got no support from their family, friends, or the birthfather. Many of them tried to keep the baby, but were told they would have to pay thousands of dollars to pay back the maternity home. The social workers did not explain their options, and pressured them to sign the documents without reading it to them. All of them had major regrets, including wishing they had been able to stop the relinquishment, or being able to talk about their grief and have it acknowledged by others. Most of them had some lingering consequences, like alcohol problems, abusive relationships, or mysterious stress-related illnesses. Most of them wanted to parent, but knew they couldn't. About half never had another child, while many of the others got pregnant again too soon in order to replace the child they lost.
Like I said, much has changed. Now, lies about adoptive parents or birthmothers can be found out when they meet, so there is more accountability to be truthful. Single-motherhood is more common, and more families support the young mother if she decides to parent her child. All expectant mothers get the same medical care, at least I haven't heard that they don't. They can all take the same childbirth classes, and they generally have the ability to know what the birth experience might be like. Our society is just more open about how pregnancy happens and what happens during birth. All mothers can have loved ones with them at the hospital, and pregnant girls don't have to leave school or go to a maternity home. If there are differences at the hospital, it is likely more about finances or insurance rather than being a single mother or planning on adoption. As for adoption, more laws protect expectant mothers who choose adoption. They have to have the relinquishment papers read aloud to them, and more information is available to them about what adoption entails. It is against the law in all but one state to require her to pay back any expenses paid by the agency or potential adoptive parents if she chooses to parent.
At the same time, though, I do wonder about what hasn't changed. How many are still pressured by their boyfriend, husband, or family? How many regret it when and if their financial situation improves? How many, despite the increasing openness of society, and the increasing availability of birthparent support groups, don't have their grief acknowledged and, therefore, have lifelong consequences? I don't know how I would have coped after my miscarriage if the people around me didn't acknowledge it. How many wished they had chosen to parent even as soon as a year or two later? How many, despite the agency's promise to the contrary, were pressured by the agency social workers? I'll never know. All I can know are anecdotes, but not the full picture.
This book got me asking some tough questions of myself, and, once that door was opened, many more questions came tumbling out. I've had doubts now for some time, even as early as the classes at the agency. J. and I decided on newborn domestic adoption over 6 months ago, and some things have changed since then. Since then, I've become much more interested in my job, well, in discerning potential jobs anyway. Our friends' and family's babies are six months older, which is quite a difference developmentally. There are more toddlers than babies now. Our financial situation is quite different, and not for the better. Between the necessary oven replacement, the hurricane damage, and other issues, our savings has taken a significant hit. We can still afford the adoption, but with very little cushion if something major (read: expensive) happened at the same time. And a new baby is very expensive, from medical bills to supplies. Even if I'm unemployed, J. and I can still put some money away, just not as much.
Once I dared to question the newborn route, I thought about why I wanted a newborn in the first place. The answers were unsettling. Answers like, "I was pregnant", and "I'll fit in with my friends" and "It'll be more accepted by others", and "Baby stuff is cute" came first. Uncomfortable with those thoughts, I quickly tried to find more important reasons, but the only one was that babies are less scary. I had an image in my head of older children from foster care who would be complete terrors, destroying our house while throwing stuff at us and shrieking profanity.
During the last six months, I've read a lot of novels that I had chosen specifically because they weren't about adoption, just for a mental break from the constant theme in our life. However, for some reason, most of them ended up being about a young woman or couple bringing a school-age child into their home. I started to notice that unconscious pattern a month or so ago, and found that, partly because of those novels, and also because of bloggers who adopted older children, my image of older kids from foster care had shifted. No longer did they terrify me.
Plus, as that shift was happening, another slow shift was happening in how "easy" newborns appeared. I hope all moms who have raised a newborn are laughing, because I am, too. How did I get that idea? From catalogs, I guess. Infants and toddlers bring their own major challenges. Sleep deprivation, frequent doctor visits, lots of diapers, crying and spit-up do not make for an easy situation. I know that caring for a newborn can be very rewarding, but caring for an older child can be rewarding, too; that is my point. Choosing one over the other because it seems easier or less scary needs to be examined to see if it has basis in reality or in baby store advertisements.
How does J. feel about all this? This past Saturday, when J. was happily watching the Aggie football game, I felt this old, familiar longing to check out the waiting children on various foster-care websites. I used to do this a lot, since adopting a waiting child was the first kind of adoption we considered. I was at my in-laws house, and was careful to keep the screen of my laptop hidden from everyone since I didn't think the reaction would be positive. I didn't even know why, at that time, I was even interested in the kids; the connection with the book and the hard questions hadn't come yet. At that moment I was just following my gut. Anyway, J. happened to come out of the TV room and caught me looking. His question? "See any cute kids?". Later, as we went out to dinner, I brought up older child adoption, and, for about 10 minutes, he was
very quiet. Then, he started talking about how fun it could be, how he could play video games and other activities with them. I couldn't believe how well he was taking it, and told him that I didn't want to take a baby away from him if that is what he really wanted. My husband is great with babies, and they usually fall peacefully asleep when he holds them (unlike me, as they usually cry 5 minutes later when I hold them). He thought about it for a moment and said, with peace, that he'd be happy with it. As long as we stayed the domestic route, he was content either way.
Once I knew that J. was truly supportive, and that I could examine this possibility, I started spending some time with it. I realized how much of this might be cold feet, or maybe being overwhelmed by how much stuff babies need. The experience of setting up my baby registry was overwhelming. Is this new concern mostly about money? If so, God will provide. Am I too worried about the birthmom? If so, God will bring us a birthmom who is at peace with her decision. Am I too scared of the child having drug or alcohol exposure in-utero? If that happens, God will give us the ability to cope with the child's needs. Those aren't good reasons to question this. There are some big advantages to adopting a baby. Mainly, you can bond from the very beginning.
However, with older children, you can interact with them in a way I would probably enjoy more. I taught middle-school and I enjoyed those children more than I enjoy babies. So far, I've never changed a diaper or done any baby care. Of course, it's not rocket science, and I've heard over and over that, when it's your child, you get into it and learn how, even enjoy it. But, for me, school-age children just seem more fun. When I thought about what I want to do with my children, all of the answers involved a child who can walk and talk. I want to read with my children, and cook with them, and go camping with them. With a baby, I wanted to breastfeed so that I could feel more like a mom. That can't have been all of it, but I didn't spend much time imagining what I'd do with an infant. I know there are lots of chores to stay busy with a little one. In addition, instead of staying home with a baby for 3 or so years, I could keep working part-time, or volunteering while they are in school. I don't have to put all of my latest career ideas aside as fully as I imagine I would with an infant or toddler.
Also, I was so caught up in the stuff and the reality that I had been headed towards during my pregnancy that I didn't look carefully enough at other options. I felt destined to be the mom of a baby because of my pregnancy and my friends' pregnancies. I felt self-conscious about my new found interest in professional writing and thought that I needed to put that aside when it was time to be a parent. Most women have to go through the baby stage to be a parent, after all. My pregnancy ended about a year ago and just now am I able to see outside of that baby-bubble. It's not that I don't want a baby, just that I'm wondering if that is really where God is calling me. As I come closer to accepting my infertility, I get closer to seeing that I really do have options. If I want, I really can skip the baby and toddler stage altogether. Now I need to find out if that is want I want.
Another factor I can't ignore is that the process of adopting an older child is much more positive for us. Instead of being chosen by an expectant mother or new mom, you are matched with a child. That child's personality and major medical issues have already been identified, or at least hinted at (although how much of that reality you get to learn beforehand is up to the social worker). These kids are waiting for a match, and there are fewer people wanting to adopt an older child as there are newborns. Finally, it wouldn't empty our savings, which gives us more options down the road.
I'm not saying that J. and I are changing our path, just that we're examining it more closely. Our next step, after things settle down job-wise for me, is to meet with our agency's foster-care manager to see what she thinks about us possibly switching programs. What does she think about matching us with a child age 3-8, a waiting child who is ready for and wants adoption? Does she think we're a good fit? As for siblings, I'm torn. At this time, I would probably prefer one child, but the idea of two children, close in age, has some benefits, too. I don't want both a toddler and a school-age child at the same time, but, if they were both in school, and just a year or two apart, they could hopefully keep each other entertained at home. While I do look forward to playing with and teaching my children, it would be great if they had siblings to spend time with when I'm busy, and to support each other in the transition to our family. We haven't signed a contract or paid anything for the newborn program so switching won't cost us. It's purely a matter of where we fit best and what our hearts are calling us to.
No matter what, God will match us with the child He has in mind for us. We just might need to be more open-minded to let that match happen.
