I’m No Hero

Ever since we first announced our intention to adopt, we regularly hear various people tell us we’re wonderful, saintly people because we chose adoption.  They believe we’ve given our kids a much better life than what they would have known.  I’ve heard words like “hero”, “brave”, “angel”, and others used to describe our role as adoptive parents.

This sentiment amuses me and makes me uncomfortable.  I may be a lot of things, but I do not consider myself a hero – especially not because we adopted.  Look:  we didn’t adopt because we felt called to do it, found it our social/moral responsibility, or because we were inspired by Angelina Jolie or some other celebrity.

We did it so we could have a family.  Period.

The possibility existed that we could have gotten pregnant on our own, but the fertility treatments we tried weren’t getting the job done.  So we decided to trade the stress, expense, and uncertainty of fertility treatments for the stress, expense, and uncertainty of adoption.  With adoption, we felt fairly certain that we would end up with a baby (especially considering we are white, Christian, married, heterosexual, and financially stable).  With fertility treatments (the shots, the turkey baster, and/or the petri dish), we had no such assurance.  Even if we could get pregnant, there was no guarantee that nine months later we would end up with a baby.

As for our kiddos, I’ve had people tell me that our children are “lucky” and/or “blessed” to have us as their parents.  While we certainly try to give them the best possible life, it would be horribly conceited of us to presume that growing up with us gives them the ‘best possible life’.  Plus, that sentiment is highly disrespectful to their birth mothers.  I cannot begin to understand the circumstances that led our two birth moms to choose adoption – and it’s not my place to publicly discuss what we do know – but you’ll have a hard time convincing me that the lives of our children are automatically better because we adopted them.  If people think we give our kids the ‘best possible life’ that’s only because we have an unspoken obligation to our birth moms to raise these children as best as we can – not because our “status” as middle class white people* is somehow better than what they would have otherwise known.

*Yeah, I think there is a bit of an unspoken (and hopefully unintentional) race element to all of this.  And I know there is definitely a class factor.  I think society tends to make assumptions about birth moms (i.e. young, poor, uneducated, possibly minority), just as they make assumptions about my wife and I (white, educated, professional).  Whether or not they would ever vocalize it, I guarantee there are people out there who believe that our minority children are guaranteed to have a better life growing up in a middle class white home than they would being raised by a single black woman.  I think that notion is absolutely ludicrous.  Any “advantages” we may have are perception, and are likely offset by the fact that raising a child of color outside of his or her culture can lead to a lack of racial identity.

At times, I think the “hero” sentiment is a coded way of saying “I would never, ever adopt, so I applaud you for doing something I’m too scared/weak/unwilling to do”.  This belief comes from my feelings on being a foster parent:  I’m not sure I could do what foster parents do, so I have a high level of appreciation and respect for those who have chosen that path.  Does that make foster parents heroes?  In my mind, it kind of does, but my guess is they would be just as uncomfortable with that sentiment as I am when I hear it.

So consider me a hero if you want (although you certainly do so at your own risk), tell me how “brave” our choice was (even if that is a bit of a back-handed slap at adoption), and say how “lucky” our kids are to have us.  But know that there are no heroes in adoption.  The birth moms are the brave ones, and the adoptive parents are far and away the lucky ones.

Ten Things Everybody Should Know About Adoption

Adoption is a truly amazing thing – it takes children and places them with loving parents, creating a beautiful family.  Unfortunately, there are a lot of misconceptions, myths, and out-dated notions about adoption out there.  In celebration of National Adoption Month, as well as an attempt to provide friendly information and education for those whose lives have not been enriched by adoption, here are ten things you need to know:

1.  Never, ever, ever say an adopted child was “given up” for adoption. 

Be honest, we’ve all done it:  you’re talking about an adopted child and you say “Did you know that So-And-So was given up for adoption?”  Or you’re talking about a parent/relative/co-worker who “gave up” a child for adoption.

Please, stop doing that.

Think about it:  what do people give away?  We give away things without value or that we have no use for anymore.  I have never met a child who is without value.  A better option is to say the child was “placed” for adoption or a birth mother “made an adoption plan”.  These phrases more accurately reflect the painful reality:  placing your baby with another couple, whom you likely have never met, is one of the hardest, and yet most loving, decisions a woman can make.  And no child should grow up thinking he or she was discarded by their biological family, like an old couch set out on the curb.

Is avoiding “given up” another example of an ultra-sensitive, politically correct culture?  Some folks would say yes, but I’m guessing those same people would take a swing at me if I implied their biological children had no value.  My wife says it best:  “Please don’t say ‘you were given up’ to my child.  No, you, little girl, were created by God for a reason, and your mommy and daddy love you soooo much.”

2.  Families adopt for many different reasons.  When we were checking out daycares for our daughter, we met with a provider who told us that she typically did not accept adopted children.  As she put it, adoptive families “are so desperate for a child that they do not believe in discipline.”  Luckily for us, she could “tell that we were different.”  Needless to say, we did not entrust our child to this whack job.

There are millions of adoptive parents, each with their own personal tale of why they chose to adopt.  Yes, many families adopt in part because they are unable to conceive a biological child.  Infertility was one of the primary reasons we chose to adopt.  But do not assume adoption is some kind of “Plan B” to only be pursued once all available infertility options are exhausted.  Adoption was always on the table for us, even if we had a biological child.  We left several fertility options unexplored to pursue adoption because it was right for us.

Simply put, some are called by religious beliefs, some want to help a child, others want to enrich their family with a child from a different race, culture, or country.  There is no one size fits all reason.  Whatever the reason, adoption is a wonderful decision.

3.  Adoption can be incredibly expensive.  According to Adoptive Families magazine, the average cost to adopt a newborn domestically through an agency can range from $20,000 – $35,000.  Those costs include agency fees, costs to process paperwork and background checks, birth mother expenses (such as rent, food, and utilities), travel expenses to wherever the child is born, and much more.  International adoptions are typically even more expensive due to additional agency fees, the red tape of dealing with two governments, and more expensive travel costs.

Yes, the IRS does currently provide a tax credit for adoptive families ($12,970 per child) but that does not cover all of the expenses, nor does it put the money in your account when you need to write a really big check to your agency.

Some folks are lucky enough to work for a company that offers an adoption benefit (a few hundred to several thousand dollars) to help defray adoption expenses.  If your company does not have adoption benefits, encourage them to start.

4.  BUT…never say “you’re buying a baby” or “how much did your baby cost?”  If you want to be truly technical, yes:  adoptive parents do pay money to an agency (or other entity) for assistance in bringing a child into their home.

Of course, biological parents also pay money to different entities for assistance in providing their child.  Yet nobody asks the biological parent how much their numerous fertility treatments were, how much their doctor or mid-wife cost, or what they spent on the case of Keystone Light the night their precious little angel was conceived.

If you are curious about the costs that go into an adoption, ask a family that has adopted, check out adoptivefamilies.com, or use Google.  All are much better options than being rude and disrespectful.

5.  Adoptive parents are “real” parents.  

Here’s the deal:  my wife and I are caucasian with blondish-brown hair.  Our oldest daughter has a darker complexion with stunningly beautiful dark curly hair.  Our son and youngest daughter are African-American and will likely tower over us someday.  This disparity often leads to a variation of the question “Who/where are their real parents?”

These children may not have lived in my wife’s uterus for 9 months*, but she is their “real mom”.  She is the one who gets up with them at 3 am, changes their diapers, gets thrown up on, and does anything and everything that a “real mom” does – unless of course, their “real dad” is the one doing it.  Oh yeah, and it is our names on the birth certificates.

*Honey, I’m sorry for writing about your uterus on the internet.  It won’t happen again 🙂

I say this with absolutely no disrespect to the biological parents (a.k.a. “birth parents”, “first parents”, “bio mom”, or other titles) of our children.  Those two amazing women will never fully know the depth of our love for them, our gratitude for being chosen by them, and how blessed we are to raise their beautiful babies.

In reality, our children have two sets of “real” parents – the ones whose DNA they share, and us, the ones who handle their care.

6.  Adoption is not a cure for infertility.  I wish I had a dollar* for every person who has said “Now that you have adopted, you’ll be getting pregnant” or has shared the story of their co-worker’s cousin’s brother’s neighbor who adopted and got pregnant a few months later.  Sure it happens, but it is not like adoption magically triggers some “mom gene” that allows pregnancy to occur.

*And if I had that dollar for each time, my wife would not have had to skimp and save so much to pay for our second adoption.

7.  Despite what you have seen on TV or in the movies, adoptive parents are not concerned about the birth family trying to steal the child away.  The laws vary from state to state, but most are pretty similar to this:  once the birth mother signs the consent (which in many places cannot happen until at least 48 hours after birth) the decision is final and legally binding – her parental rights are terminated.  In other words, once she signs the consents, a birth mother has as much legal right to your biological child as she does to her own.  I know that makes for a pretty boring Lifetime movie, but that is the reality.

But if we’re talking about things that adoptive parents do worry about:  it is the birth mother deciding to parent the child before the consent paperwork is signed.  That is her choice, her right, and it does happen quite a bit (I’ve read about 30% of the time).  When that happens, it can be devastating for the adoptive family who has gone through a long and grueling process and is leaving broken-hearted and childless.  Trust me, it sucks.

8.  Most domestic adoptions are now “open”.  Another great TV and movie stereotype:  the adoptee grows up and somehow finds out that his “real mom” was living in the same town all along.  They meet for a tearful reunion, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Certainly, that happened in the past.  Most adoptions used to be “closed” where the birth mother’s identity was not known, or was locked in a file that was impossibly hard to unseal.  Or maybe the birth mom was not sure which family had adopted her child, or did not know where they were at.

But today, most domestic adoptions are considered “open”, where some sort of connection and relationship exists between the birth mom (or other members of the birth family) and the adoptee and/or adoptive family.  Open relationships can run the gambit from a letter and some pictures each year, to regular social media contact, to weekly visits and calls.  It really depends on the parties involved and what is in the best interest of the child.

These types of relationships are beneficial for all parties involved.  The relationships don’t always happen overnight – it can take time for the bonds to grow and strengthen – but the payoff is much better than birth mother and child meeting for the first time when the child turns 18.

9.  The process to get approved to adopt is long, costly, and frustrating.  Here’s a secret frustration of many prospective adoptive parents:  they want nothing more to adopt, but they have to jump through dozens of hoops to prove their personal, financial, medical, and legal worthiness to be parents.  Meanwhile, the news is always finding stories about the unemployed 22-year-old single mom who has 3 kids, and is pregnant with #4, parents accused of child abuse or neglect, or the big national story when we were starting our first adoption:  OctoMom.  For a domestic adoption through an agency, we needed:

• Complete biographical information
• A copy of our marriage license
• A letter from our employers stating our salary and job stability
• A complete financial statement – including a list of assets and debts and a monthly budget
• Copies of our recent tax returns
• A physical and report from our doctor stating we were free from major illness
• Vaccination records for all of our pets
• A local criminal history check
• Two sets of fingerprints
• A national criminal background check
• Consents to verify that we are not on any sex offender registries or child abuse/neglect registries
• Four hours of interviews and a house inspection by a social worker
• Four letters of recommendation from our friends.

Aside from inducing carpal tunnel syndrome, many of these steps have fees attached to them.  If we were adopting internationally, the process would be longer, more complex, and subject to the unpredictability of a potentially unstable foreign government.  There is a reason that this is a popular mantra in the adoption community.

Throughout the process, you try to remind yourself that it is all necessary to ensure children are placed in safe, loving homes, but that doesn’t stop the frustration when you see those stories or fill out yet another form.

10.  Adoptive families typically LOVE to tell you their adoption stories and are willing to discuss adoption with other families who are considering it.  We faced a bit of a challenge when we first started considering adoption:  we did not immediately know of other adoptive parents that we could talk with to learn about the process, get their advice, and hear about the good and the bad.  None of our friends had adopted.  Aside from an uncle who adopted internationally over 10 years ago, we did not have family that we could reach out to.

So we expanded our search, and ended up talking with two couples:  one of my wife’s co-workers and a Facebook friend I had not seen since college.  Both were incredibly generous with their time, telling us their amazing stories and patiently answering all of our questions.

In short, if you are considering adoption or just have questions, reach out to somebody who has been through it.  The odds are very good that they will cherish the opportunity to talk to you.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll throw it out there again:  if you have adoption questions or want to get some basic information from folks who have been there, feel free to drop me a line at feitcanwrite (at) hotmail.com.  I won’t have all the answers, but I’ll gladly help.

How about you tie the tubes in your mouth?

I need to step outside of my comfort zone for a minute.  I’m typically not one to cause friction or publicly call somebody out, but I’m feeling like it is warranted and necessary.  Consider this both a public service and a preemptive strike.

As you may recall, we are in the process of adopting a baby girl born two weeks ago.  This little girl is the biological half-sister of our adopted son.  In simpler terms, our two youngest have the same birth mom, but different birth dads.

Given this information, and the relatively small gap between their births (a little over 17 months), we have had to field some uncomfortable questions from friends, family, co-workers, and others.

You can probably guess some of the things we’re hearing.  Things like “She knows what causes that right?” or suggestions that we should take the birth mom a box of condoms.  When we shared that our daughter was born via C-section, more people than I care to think about have asked “Did they tie her tubes while they were in there?”.

My wife and I struggle to process how rude and insensitive these comments are.  It is disappointing, insulting (and rather infuriating) to hear them from people we care about.

I honestly believe that these things are said with good, honest intentions.  We simply do not have people in our lives who are intentionally rude and insulting to us.  It’s likely these things are said jokingly, or in reaction to the sudden nature of this placement, or any number of other reasons.

But trust me, we do not appreciate these comments.

First and foremost, you’re talking about the birth mother of two of our children.  I’m going to defend her like I would my own mom, my wife, or our children.  Mess with the birth mama and you’re messing with me.

It may be hard for non-adoptive parents to understand the protective loyalty I have for someone I’ve never met (as is the case with both of our birth moms), but you need to understand:  without these women, without the sacrifices they made, the pain they endured, and the other things you and I cannot fully appreciate, I have no children.  No family.  Nothing.  The gratitude – the eternal, never-ending thankfulness I have cannot be underestimated.

It is very easy for those on the outside to look at the choices birth moms make and judge.  Why did they get “knocked up”?  Why do they have babies they “cannot keep”?  How could they possibly “give up*” a child for adoption?  Again?

*Seriously, if you’re still saying “give up”, please stop.  Switch to “placed for adoption” or “chose to place for adoption”.  Yeah it’s a little more work for your brain, but those extra words don’t sting nearly as bad.

I look at this two ways:

1) Look at your life.  What choices have you made that others have judged?  How did that feel?  I know I’m not perfect.  My family and friends love me in spite of many of the things I’ve done and said.

2) Instead of focusing on the negative, celebrate these women.  Instead of choosing abortion, they chose to give life to these wonderful, beautiful children – all while enduring a difficult social stigma.  The greatest days of our lives – the days we took custody of our children – were the worst days in the lives of their birth moms.  We try to never forget that.

But mostly, I think about the birth mom of our son and baby girl.  She is a beautiful young woman (early 30s) with lots of life to live.  Who knows what her situation will be in six months or six years?  Quite simply, she has done absolutely nothing to warrant losing her ability to have children.

Nobody has the right to suggest that her ability to reproduce be taken away solely because she blessed us with two beautiful children.  Not me.  Not you.  Nobody.

I can’t tell you what to think or how to feel about the choices our birth moms have made.  But I am asking you – politely, yet very, very firmly – to keep those opinions to yourself.  My children will be raised to honor and celebrate their mom and birth mom, and they do not need to hear any rude or disparaging comments about them.

Thank you.

The Social Stigma of Adoption

During the various adoption classes and trainings we did, we came to understand how adoption is a beautiful thing built on a foundation of loss.  The birth mother feels loss over placing her child.  The adoptee feels loss over a lack of identity or not knowing their biological family.  The adoptive parents often know the loss of infertility.

I feel as if I understand the losses that everybody in our two adoptions feels.  However, I tend to look at loss mostly from my perspective, which is rather rosy.  I have long accepted that my wife and I will never have a biological child, and I am perfectly fine with that.  Our children are amazing – smart, beautiful, vibrant little beings that make me happy beyond words.  I truly believe my wife and I could not have produced anything as wonderful as our two kiddos.  So I tend to forget about the other two sides of our adoption triangle and any pain they might be feeling.

I may be over my loss, and I’m naive enough to think that we can provide enough love and support to cushion whatever loss our kids may feel as their comprehension of their journeys to our home evolves.  But do I really understand what our birth mothers went through?

Sure, I can vocalize the pain they must feel over knowing that they have not seen their beautiful children in person since birth.  I can try to understand what it must be like to go through life – being with their other children, hearing a baby cry, seeing their C-section scar, or any of the thousand moments in the day where they are reminded that the life they brought into this world is (for differing reasons) not currently in their life.

It is a pain that I cannot understand, a loss that I will never know, an ache that (presumably) never goes away.  I am grateful beyond words these women chose adoption and chose us to parent their children.

But is another part of the story that I had never ever considered; one that makes me love and appreciate these women even more:  the social stigma they must face.  The judgment (silent, vocal, or implied) from everyone you know.

I recently read a very interesting piece in the Washington Post entitled “A Mother’s Day plea to stop equating adoption with abandonment“. It really opened my eyes.

I clicked on the piece expecting a rant against an all-too-common adoption phrase:  “gave up for adoption”*.

*I hate that phrase.  Despise it.  It makes the hair on my neck stand up and wakes up the protective Papa Bear inside me.  Nobody – and I mean NOBODY – “gave up” on my babies.  Not their birth moms, not their biological families, nor anybody else.  Say that about my kids, and you may “give up” on breathing for a while.

A belated Birth Mother’s Day to all of the wonderful birth moms out there, and especially to two amazing women who will always be special to us.

But while “gave up” is mentioned in the piece, it is a small component in the bigger message.

The loss a birth mom faces can sometimes pale in comparison to the social stigma they face for placing their child for adoption.  The author even asserts that for some women, aborting an unplanned pregnancy can have less impact than placing a child for adoption.

Think about it:  there is a woman at work, at school, at church, in your family, wherever.  You can tell that she is pregnant, even if you think she’s trying to hide it.  You hear that she’s gone into labor and delivered a healthy child.  Then one day, she is back but little is said publicly about where the baby went.

You would judge her.

You would think she was a slut for getting knocked up, or she’s a bad person because she couldn’t take care of her baby, or she has betrayed religious tenets you hold dear.

You would ask why.  Why couldn’t she raise baby?  Why did she have to “give up” this child?  Why is she such a bad mom?  Why?

You may not say or intentionally do anything, but you would likely judge her for placing her baby for adoption.  Or make negative assumptions.

Hell, I am a two-time adoptive father.  I owe an overwhelming debt of gratitude to our two birth moms.  And I can honestly tell you that I have made some negative judgments about birth moms (especially the one who lied to us in our failed adoption).

Simply put:  the social stigma our birth mothers faced is something that I (as an adoptive father) have failed to comprehend, or even acknowledge.

And that is what makes birth moms so amazing.  When faced with an unplanned pregnancy, they could take the “easy” way out and abort.  Few people would know, and they would not have to endure nine months of judgment, and a lifetime of whispers about how she “gave up” a baby.  Imagine the strength, the love, and conviction needed to make an adoption plan, especially in the face of such social stigma.

The solution is simple:  as a society, we readjust our mindset on birth moms.  They are not pariahs incapable of parenting.  They love their children and want the best possible life for them.  The author says it best:

“A woman’s decision to carry a baby to term knowing that she will not reap the fruits of motherhood should be treated as an act of bravery and selflessness — the ultimate standards of good motherhood.”

I agree.

*   *   *

Update…The WordPress Daily Prompt for 5/14/2013 is about unconditional love.  I definitely think the love birth moms have for their children qualifies.

The Super Bowl of Adoption

Author’s note:  I’m a little late to the party on this, but I wanted to share my two cents…

As part of the non-stop hype and build up to last week’s Super Bowl, media members from all over the country explore every conceivable story angle on the players – especially those in starring roles, such as San Fransisco 49’ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick.  Kaepernick is a pretty interesting story:  not widely recruited out of high school, becomes a star QB and helps boost Nevada football to respectability.  Gets drafted by the 49’ers and takes over the starting job midway through the season, helping to ignite the team, leading them to the Super Bowl.  Kaepernick was also adopted by white parents, adding another level to his already unique story.

Although progress is being made, adoption is still a rather mysterious subject for a lot of folks.  Add in the layers of open adoption (where the adoptee has some level of contact/relationship with their birth family) and transracial adoption (my wife and I are white; our children are not) and it definitely makes for an interesting angle for the hundreds of media members looking for something new to report/write/talk about*.

*As an aside, Kaepernick was not the only transracial adoptee playing in the Super Bowl.  Baltimore Ravens tackle Michael Oher was also adopted by a white family, but his story (or at least a Hollywood version of it) has already been told in the Sandra Bullock movie The Blind Side.

One of the questions Kaepernick was asked during the Super Bowl media day was if he was in contact with his birth parents.  Kaepernick was placed for adoption by a 19 year old woman, who knew that she would not be able to adequately provide for him.  He said that he had not been in recent contact with her (she had sent a letter for his 18th birthday), nor did he have a desire to do so.

This is where ESPN columnist Rick Reilly comes in.  Reilly adopted one of his daughters from Korea, and in a recent column he related a personal story of how his daughter reunited with her birth mom and biological siblings during trips to Korea.  According to Reilly, the experience has been very positive for his daughter.  Terrific.  I am a big believer in open adoption.  And hearing about positive and healthy relationships between adopted children and their biological family makes me happy.

But then Reilly expresses confusion over why Kaepernick refuses to meet with his birth mom.  He cannot understand why Kaepernick is not behaving like other adopted kids who are “crazy curious about their birth parents”.  Reilly offers a pet theory for why Kaepernick does not want contact:  Reilly thinks that a relationship between Kaepernick and his birth mom would be disrespectful to his adoptive parents.  Maybe he’s right.  Maybe he’s not.

*A side note – the other thing about Reilly’s piece that drove me up a wall was his use of “gave him up” to describe the birth mother’s decision to place her son for adoption.  I’ve never met Colin Kaepernick’s birth mom, but I can guarantee that she did not “give up” on him, and to imply that any birth mother “gives up” on their child is insulting to the birth mom and the child.  If you use a variation of “give up” when talking about somebody who was adopted, please stop.

But here’s the thing:  Colin Kaepernick gets to choose what level of contact, if any, he has with his birth family.  He gets to decide if he is “crazy curious” about the woman who carried him for nine months before making what was likely an impossibly hard decision.  He gets to decide how he processes and handles that loss.  And he definitely gets to decide if he discusses all of this in front of the national media before the biggest game of his career.

Look:  I hope that Kaepernick can have a strong relationship with his birth mom, just as I want my own adopted children to have good relationships with their birth families.  I’m very proud of the relationship we have built with my daughter’s birth grandma, great-grandma, and half-sister.  And we continue to make every effort to establish a better relationship with our son’s birth parents – when they are ready, we will be readily oblige.  While they are young, we will do everything in our power to establish those relationships, develop them, and always ensure they are positive and beneficial for our children.

But I acknowledge that a time will come where the decision to maintain or break contact will no longer be mine.  I’ll certainly encourage them to maintain some level of communication, but if they choose to break contact, I’ll listen to them, try to understand their reasoning, and respect their decision.  And I won’t have a lot of patience for outsiders like Reilly who tell my kids how to live their lives.