I’ve recently been reading the blog of a birth mother who utilized her state’s Safe Haven laws after her daughter was born. ‘Safe Haven’ has given me something new in the adoption realm to ponder – but I am admittedly, naive.

Today the local mass media has ‘reported’ continuously on a newborn who was brought to a Hillsborough County (Tampa, FL) fire station and left under ‘Safe Haven’. All day I’ve heard this tidbit of information over and over and over… and you know what? I find myself really bothered by the fact that ’safe’ doesn’t equal ‘anonymous’.

It’s made me downright angry.

Somewhere living (hiding? fearing? hurting?) near me is a mother feeling not-so-safe right now as her ‘anonymous’ story is plastered into a public spectacle.

After the blogger I referred to above wrote, recently,

“I’m different. I’m marked. I’m associated with women who put babies in trash cans, women who get late term partial birth abortions, and women who fiercely deny their child… In my mind I’m none of those things… But in the mind of society, I am… there are days when… I [want]… people would see that I didn’t do what I did because it was a last minute change of heart instead of killing my baby.“

… I realized she’s right. Society does look at women who ‘abandon’ their children as a lower-class of individuals… or potential murderers.

I have thought in the past, “it’s better that she used safe haven instead of killing the baby,” and now I’m ashamed to admit how low and disrespectful my thoughts were… and how naive and idiotic.

My thoughts should have been (and are today) concern for the child and the mother’s well-being, and not in the judgment of a parenting decision – possibly the last PARENTING decision the child’s mother will be allowed to make.

I don’t want my parenting decisions judged or made into a public spectacle – so why should this mother be submitted to the same? Her obvious need for anonymity might have lead her to the decision to use ‘Safe Haven’, but how safe will she really be (will the baby be in his/her future?) today, tonight, tomorrow, next week, next year….

A child placed by a mother or parent in a ‘Safe Haven’ should be safe – in all aspects – and need not worry about so much as even feeling unsafe.

My son is getting old enough to express his feelings about his adoption and hold whole conversations with me about what he thinks. We had one such conversation today, and while it had a bit of a ‘hit-me-over-the-head-with-a-two-by-four’ effect, it validated a lot:

“Mom… can we keep it a little secret, just between us, that I’m adopted?”

I feel there is an important point to make by revealing his words (and my thoughts about them) even if I feel a tad guilty so immediately violating his trust.

We were in Starbucks getting our usual Frappachinos (yes, I buy my kid Starbucks… so sue me!) The barista making our drinks knows me (causally, due to the fact that I visit their establishment probably far too often) and I made pleasant conversation with her while we were waiting. I asked about her health and she asked about mine. It had been before the holidays since I last saw her, so I told her about having my hoo-hoo-ectomy in January. I’ve gotten used to the ‘typical’ response -

“Well, at least you already have your son… and if you want another one, you can always adopt,“

she said. I glanced at [The Kidlet]. He seemed to have missed and/or ignored the comment. Since he had his Frappachino straw stuck half-way down his throat at this point, I made the assumption that he didn’t even hear her.

“I’m already a proud adoptive parent,”

I replied, looking straight at [The Kidlet], this time, and motioning toward him. I gave a grand smile – the grand ‘I-adopted-and-am-therefore-entitled-to-praise’ smile. The smile that I am embarrassed to possess, the one that despite my best efforts, still comes forth at odd times. Why should I still flash such a look when I entirely don’t feel the need for reinforcement of my decisions? Maybe I should examine that a bit further… but I digress.

“[The Kidlet], do you want to tell her anything about yourself or about being adopted or about Ukraine?“

I questioned, still looking at him and still with that stupid grin plastered on my face.

“No, not really,”

he replied, annoyed.

I was confused, totally and utterly confused , caught off-guard, even. Usually, if given the chance, [The Kidlet] loves to tell anyone who will listen about Ukraine, how his “mother Nadyia lives there” and that he is excited and looking forward to his visit in 2009.

His comment immediately started me down the ‘OMG what is happening/has happened/is something wrong/is he upset?’ track. A million questions passed through my mind while we walked from Starbucks to the car, most of them once again questioning my own parenting abilities.

As we drove away, I gently asked some questions.

“Hey, [The Kidlet], how come you didn’t want to talk about Ukraine and your adoption?“

He shrugged and continued to sip the Frappachino that was already nearly gone. He deliberately acted uninterested. I casually continued -

“Did something happen? Are you upset? Are you embarrassed about being adopted?“

He flashed his ever-evolving “mom you’re embarrrrasssssssing me” look. (I’m seeing that look a lot more often, lately, BTW…) Finally he answered -

“Nothing is wrong, Mom. But, I don’t know that lady, so can we keep it a little secret just between us that I’m adopted?”

The lighbulb flashed on in my head and the mantra I’ve been repeating (at least online) was finally confirmed by the one for whom it matters most:

This story is his to tell, and not mine.

If my mentioning he is adopted in public and/or unfamiliar situations makes him uncomfortable, then I have to respect that. Even if I’d love to shout to the world how proud I am to be an adoptive mother, I need to filter myself a bit more. I need to respect his space and realize that what my big fat mouth says in front of him and ‘on behalf of him’ makes a difference. He notices. And even though I might not have respected that in the past (especially when he was much, much younger and couldn’t tell the difference or at least couldn’t tell me his feelings about it) I need to remember that now.

Will I still blog about adoption? Yes, but just as my adoption blog has literally dwindled in the last few years, so will specific details about my son dwindle (even more) online. I will speak in generalities and give examples or offer advice when asked. But I will not tell his story, not anymore…

It is HIS story, HIS and not MINE.

Adoption reform is a mixed bag of emotions combined with heated opinions from all sides. One of the hot topics is how to refer to and name (classify? define?) politically correct terminology in reference to mothers. To me I don’t see this as a huge issue, even though I fully acknowledge other’s do.

I’m more than seven years into my journey as an adoptive mother and I’ve learned volumes since the beginning… in 1999 when I started my first adoption-related website I probably didn’t always refer to (all types) of mothers in necessarily the most effective ways. But today I’m going to discuss naming/classifying/defining types of mothers, as well as extending the info to include fathers and parents, according to how I see things presently.

I’ll start with ‘biological mothers’ first (and for the sake of this blog post, I will use ‘biological mother’ henceforth):

Some ‘biological mothers’ (or fathers) prefer to be called birthmothers, first mothers, natural mothers, and I suppose under rare occasions, ‘biological mothers’ (although ‘biological’ refers mostly to only the genetic link to a child).

Next are the ‘adoptive mothers’ (or fathers/parents), who pretty much have only one ‘name’ they can be referred to in discussions with adoption relevance – ‘adoptive mother’ (or father/parent). Not a whole lot of other choices there.

Personally, when it comes to those who have a specific individual ‘name’ preference, I try to honor it whenever I am referring to them. However, when I am referring to adoption (in a general sense) and the issue of political correctness in naming/classifying/defining the parents involved, I use a variety of terms.

There are a few terms I do not use:

• I never refer to an expectant mother (a woman who is pregnant and considering placing her child) as anything other than an ‘expectant mother’. She is not a birthmother – at least not in the traditional use of the word – because every mother who gives birth is a BIRTH mother.

• I also don’t define anyone as a ‘parent’ (of any type) until they are actually parenting a child – ‘parent-ing’ is defined differently than ‘mother-ing’ or ‘father-ing’. IMHO a ‘biological parent’ is a parent (the child’s only parent-s) up and until they legally place their child. At the point in which they are no longer parenting (and their legal rights to do so are terminated by adoption) they are no longer a parent.

• ‘Potential adoptive parent’ is the term I try to use in reference to those who are hoping to adopt a child and are in the process of doing so. They are still not a parent until they have a finalized/legal adoption.

There are also three circumstances that specifically irk me when it comes to naming/classifying/defining these roles:

1. When an adoptive mother (or father/parent) insists to be referred to as the ONLY mother and disregards the fact that their child(ren) have another mother. Some of these individuals insist that their children only refer to their ‘biological mothers’ by their first name (instead of allowing the child or the ‘biological mother’ to express and/or assert a nickname). These adoptive parents quite often also insist that the child not even be aware of the ‘biological mother’.
2. When an adoptive parent is specifically referred to as “so-and-so’s adopted parent” instead of just as “so-and-so’s parent”. Specifically when the reference is in regards to basic public information about a child or person that otherwise is not discussing adoption and/or doesn’t refer to a ‘biological mother/father’ because of relevancy. For example, in an obituary, graduation or wedding announcement – what relevance is it that the person is adopted when all other adoption-related references are omitted?
3. When a ‘biological mother’ insists to be referred to as the only TRUE mother (or father). They are just as much in denial as adoptive parents in #1

That being said, I want to know…

…Is it really necessary to name, classify and define who we are in OUR children’s lives? Why do we do this to ourselves, and feel an especially strong need to do it to our ‘opposite’ counterparts? Do we need to define our very specific role in our children’s lives to the point that we create a new identity that doesn’t necessarily reflect who we truly are? I personally try to refer to a mother, of any name/classification/definition, as simply ‘ a/the mother‘.

My bottom line = What’s wrong with just saying ‘mother’ unless there is a need to differentiate due to the specific topic of discussion? A mother, is a mother, is a mother… right?

… I live with a birth parent. Didn’t know that, did you? You thought all I am is an ‘adoptive mother’ who should stay within her role. Well, what role do I play in seeing my SO deal with his lost son every day?

But no one cares to ask. Everyone assumes I’m ‘just an adoptive mother’ and nothing else. I have no other reasons to be angry at the ’system’ and no ability to understand ‘what it’s like on the other side’.

No, I’m still not a birth parent myself, but I don’t shut my eyes to what is in front of me.

Just a tidbit to ponder when discussing adoption views and the as-always topic of adoption past, present and future:

“The sting of a reproach is the truth of it.” – Benjamin Franklin

I heard this on talk radio today applied to political topics, but I thought it was also somewhat fitting in adoption discussions – regardless what “side” you’re on.

In a day or two the domain for this website will change from ‘WorldAdopt.org‘ to ‘AWorldofAdoption.com‘. In the meantime, here’s a brief history of where this site has been and where it might go from here…

Prior to ‘worldadopt.org’ we (my son’s father and I) had a very basic HTML site (all hand-coded by me using Wordpad!) called “The Lukins Family Adoption Journey“. We kept lists of where we were in our pre-adoption process and email updates about our trip. Of course that website held the very first (digital) photo of [The Kidlet] (taken with a webcam as we had no digital camera ‘way back then’) and later, scanned pictures from our original trip.

In early 2001 I purchased the domain name ‘worldadopt.org’ and again wrote an HTML site with many, many pages. Back then, I was mostly interested in providing information [about the international adoption process] to potential adoptive parents who were (considering) adopting from Ukraine. At that time Ukraine’s international adoption program was very different than any other program and unique in that adoptive parents were legally bound to adopt ‘independently’ and forbidden from using an in-country agency.* Around that time, my son’s father and I separated and WorldAdopt.org became more of a site based on my experiences, and not so much our family’s.

In late 2001 my son and I went back to Ukraine on a humanitarian aid trip called “Operation Warm and Fuzzy“. Of course there were lots of pictures from our second trip to Ukraine and information about how to help Ukrainian orphans. Also from 2001 – late 2003 the site then began covering many of my media endeavors, speaking engagements and television interviews.

2002 – 2004 saw a lot less activity on the site as it changed into more of a “tips about adopting internationally” website – but the further away I got from my own adoption [traveling] experience, the less relevant the information I had was.

You’ll notice that there is only one entry for the entirety of 2005 and not a single one for 2006. There are two very distinct reasons for this: first, I began blogging more on LiveJournal about adoption right before I had an entire ‘adoption as a topic of discussion‘ burn-out (no thanks to the trolls!). I got very tired of thinking/reading /writing about adoption, twenty-four, seven and I took a hiatus from discussing it. Secondly, I shifted my thinking/reading/writing from adoption to my journey with chronic kidney disease and kidney failure. Tackling two very big talking-points became impossible and while WorldAdopt was online, it was infrequently updated.

At the end of 2006 I began blogging about my ‘regular’ life on Krissi-Web.com (now Krississippi.com) and from time-to-time included a few adoption posts here and there (most of which are copied to this site). Sometime in 2007 I converted the old HTML site into a WordPress blog in order to return to occasionally writing about my adoption views (vs. my son’s adoption story)…

Around this time, I also came to a very important realization: My son’s adoption story is his to tell, not mine. I ultimately didn’t/don’t want to someday regret my public words about adoption, his own experiences or how I view our adoption presently. If he chooses to tell the story of his life, then that will be his choice… in the meantime I can tell you what I think about specific adoption topics, or respond to general adoption questions, but other than the (very) few things I share about my son publicly you won’t find me telling his story. Not here, not anywhere.

Which brings us to the present – 2008 – and the fact that I’m finding there are things I need to say, more often recently than in the past, about how I really and truly feel. I need to conform less to what is ‘expected’ of me and act out of my pre-defined role of “adoptive mother”. I need to say the politically incorrect things that I feel should be said (not ALL of the politically incorrect things, because, well, some of them are still incorrect…) and tell whomever wants to read what I think and feel.

So here we are – welcome to now, and to the new domain name – www.aworldofadoption.com

—–

* Now before you go back and begin reading and see that we did use an ‘agency’ I must point out that we used said ‘agency’ to facilitate our paperwork on the US side of things – NOT to identify, match or refer ANY child to us or to process the adoption in Ukraine. The ‘agency’ helped us organize our dossier and suggested reputable in-country contacts (translator, attorney, etc.) for us to use. In essence, once we were off of US soil our ‘agency’ could do nothing else to ‘facilitate’ our adoption, change the outcome or even guarantee we would bring home any child. All of those things were up to us and the Ukrainian government.

“Adoptive parents are “rescuing” that child”

I want to hurl. I’ve had more than one person tell me that I ‘rescued’ my son from some horrible situation and that I’m such a saint for doing so.

Um, sorry, I didn’t ‘rescue’ him – I had a very selfish reason to adopt – because I wanted to be a parent. Period.

ANYONE who uses ‘rescuing’ as a word to refer to adoption should be about 1123135091048019381 zillion miles away from all children.

“if the US adoption system would concentrate a little harder on respecting the rights of adoptive parents more children would be adopted domestically”

‘Respecting the rights of adoptive parents’ – Huh? First of all, where is the ‘disrespect of adoptive parents,’ can someone please tell me? Secondly, more domestic adoptions might “happen” if legalized open adoptions could be upheld (as in, the rights of the birth parents in an ‘open’ adoption)…

“It is, quite frankly, “easier” to adopt internationally.”

The NUMBER ONE question I am asked is “was it easy to adopt your son?” I usually respond with some version of “Adoption isn’t easy, but it is time consuming, expensive and an emotional roller-coaster…”

I don’t think my son’s adoption was any ‘easier’ than any other adoption. We had to go through the same homestudy/paperwork (oh, plus a lot of EXTRA paperwork that has to do with the laws of the other country, our own country’s laws about who is qualified to adopt internationally… and then there’s the whole immigration side of things as well as proving our son’s new US citizenship [when we adopted it wasn’t law that proof of citizenship was ‘automatic’] the ongoing annual reports we are obligated to make to the Ukrainian embassy until he is 18 and so-on) ANYWAY – it wasn’t easier, it was just different.

And as far as ‘easier’ post-adoption? I’d say that’s up for grabs… we’ve had a much harder time trying to involve our son’s family in our family, and filling in the blanks for him. It’s not like we just live in another state and can travel there – we live in another country, speak another language and don’t even write using the same alphabet.

Adoption isn’t a rescue attempt… forchristsakes.

EDIT @ 1614 – Comments on this post are closed.  Not because I don’t want to read them (quite the opposite) but because the discussion and comments are being posted more often in my ‘regular’ blog where this blog post was originally x-posted.  If you commented here, your comments have been transferred to the same blog post on Krississippi (dot) com and you will find replies there.

(more…)

I’ve been quiet on the adoption-topic front for awhile, so maybe it’s time for a little reminder: I am an adoptive parent in a closed adoption… and I’m not always OK with the ‘closed’ part.

In fact, I’m almost never ‘OK’ with the fact that my son’s adoption is closed. In my case, the ‘closed-ness’ of his adoption isn’t exactly by my wanting, but it could be argued that it was by my choosing.

Lets get one thing straight from the beginning – I chose international adoption for a variety of reasons, but NOT because I wanted or needed his adoption to be closed. While I can admit that my nativity during the actual process to adopt my son lead to my thinking a lot less about the long-term consequences of ‘closed’ vs. ‘open’ adoption, it wasn’t something that I purposely ignored – I just didn’t realize a few of the things I know now.

Now that I understand at least a little bit more about the emotional implications closed adoption has on my son, I’d like to also share with you some of the “not-so-hot” emotional implications of (adoptive) parenting in a closed adoption:

• Overcoming the general assumption others make that I wanted to adopt internationally so that my son’s adoption would purposefully be ‘closed’ (and feeling like I always need to prove I didn’t adopt internationally for that reason).

• Realizing that communicating with my son’s family, or even just wishing (hoping?) to communicate, is nearly impossible and is always an insurmountable up-hill struggle.

• Worrying about all the questions my son will ask (and already asks) that I’ll never be able to answer.

• Watching my son grow and love his own mother, also knowing he might never be able to completely express this to her in the way a son should.

• Hating the fact that so many others decide I need to be defined as an adoptive mother, and that I should therefore stay within that ‘role’.

• Keeping my anger at bay when others imply that I owe a debt of gratitude to all first mothers for the ‘gift’ of babies.

• Being viewed as a ‘baby stealer’ or someone who was so desperate to have a child that I took advantage of someone else’s vulnerable situation.

… and probably the most difficult of all -

• Loving my son so intensely and realizing that his first mother will never have the same experience with him. My son is awesome and the guilt I carry knowing that she doesn’t know him the way I do, is enormous.

All-Things-Adoption, Twenty-Four-Seven