Learning from Criticism: Complexities of Adoption

I am an adoptive mom with a mission to give back to the adoption community. Even with the best of intentions, I’ve found my efforts are often criticized. I needed to understand why.

My husband and I adopted our two children in 1994 and 1998. We started the process in the early 90’s when adoptions were still mostly closed and secretive, and placement decisions were often made by agencies and attorneys.

As hopeful adoptive parents, we learned about a then-recent development called “open adoption” where the expecting mother and father (if available) chooses a family to raise their child and can then stay in contact with the child and adoptive family throughout the child’s life.

What a concept! That approach sounded like a healthy way to manage adoption so that the child can know their roots. It also felt like the right thing to do for the expecting parents so they could witness their child thrive. We thought about it and it didn’t take long for us to be “all in.” 

We proceeded to sign up with an agency, completed our home study and created a compelling profile. The profile was the hardest part. We had to take inviting pictures and write a letter describing the type of parents we wanted to be and what kind of life we would create for a child.

Like many hopeful adoptive parents, we waited several months the first time and over a year the second time before we were fortunate enough to finally get “the call” that an expecting mom wanted to interview us.  I was so in awe of this new authentic and inclusive process that I took good notes to share with others. One day I am going to write a book about this, I thought.

That one day finally came nearly three decades later, after I retired from my long career as a Fortune 100 company executive. By this time, I considered myself an expert on the subject of how to manage open adoption well. We had our challenges like all families, but my two adopted children are now thriving young adults. They have a secure relationship with us. Importantly, they also both have a relationship with their birth moms and birth dads. I felt accomplished because I did what I set out to do by keeping the connections to my children’s biological families intact.

I sat down to write my book to share what I learned by living open adoption. Knowing now what I did right and what I could have done better, I thought I could help those who come after us avoid some of our mis-steps. I also wanted to provide some helpful ideas about what worked well and why.

I wrote the book, got a publisher and went out to get endorsements from adoption professionals and even some birth mothers. I received many accolades but also a fair amount of unexpected criticism. Some readers found me insensitive at times to an adoptee or a birth mother’s point of view. Others suggested I’d used some language that could be hurtful.

I was shocked, hurt and disheartened.  I certainly knew adoption was challenging, but I did not expect this kind of pushback.

I was told that I needed to be more sensitive to the emotions, feelings and trauma for adoptees and birth parents. I had thought I got that part right because I was careful to include the voices of my children and all four birth parents in the book.  But it was more complex and nuanced than I ever imagined.

Taking a deep breath, I doubled down my efforts to listen and learn. If you are curious to know more  about the specific feedback I received, you can read the guest blog I wrote for Boston Post Adoption Resources called: Adoption - The Learning Never Stops.

So why were some people being negative and critical about what I was trying to do and about adoption in general?

It turns out that a lot of adoptees and birth parents have been hurt deeply by adoption practices. At first glance, it feels like adoption is a great solution. There are hopeful parents longing to raise a child and there are expecting parents in unplanned crisis pregnancies without the means or desire to parent. Put them together and all is well – or so it seems on the surface.

Ethics in adoption is a serious and complex issue that I did not fully appreciate until I dove in deep while doing research for the book.  Think about this: today, for every infant placed for adoption, there are multiple waiting families. These families urgently want to adopt a baby. They likely are paying a lot of money to agencies, attorneys and even consultants and hoping for a perfect match.

While most adoption agencies and professionals are ethical, it turns out that the industry attracts unscrupulous players. They prey on women who are in an unplanned crisis pregnancy. Some take advantage of many willing and vulnerable clients who are anxiously hoping to become parents. Today, most states have laws that prohibit or severely restrict the activities of unlicensed adoption facilitators.

Beyond the unethical players looking to take advantage of expecting mothers in crisis and desperate, hopeful adoptive parents, many grown adoptees today were part of the “baby scoop” era. In the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s and even into the 80’s, the stigma around unplanned, unmarried pregnancy was significant. Closed adoption remained the norm.

That means many birth mothers who gave birth in secrecy were told to forget it even happened. Often those birth moms were convinced by those entrusted with their care that they were unfit to be mothers. There are adoptees who are angry that the information about their birth family is sealed and unavailable to them.

Both adoptees and birth mothers are speaking out today in record numbers. They are writing memoirs, posting on social media and generally vocalizing about their deep pain and hurt. A prevailing sentiment is that the stories of adoption have long been told by agencies and adoptive parents. It is high time to hear from adoptees themselves and their birth families. The attitude often seems to be, “We do not need another adoptive parent to tell us how great adoption is.”

Adoption is fraught with hurt, denial and loss. That is why it is important to understand the sensitivities for each member of the triad.

As a result of this feedback, I was able to make some necessary adjustments to my manuscript. What I have come to understand is that adoption starts with loss for everyone in the triad (not just the birth families). Acknowledging the magnitude of this loss is the first step to creating healthy relationships.

The adopted child had no say in the decision and has lost the ability to grow up in the family that shares their natural traits and physical characteristics. Furthermore, whether or not they are aware of it, these children suffered trauma when they were separated from their birth mother. This separation trauma helps explain some challenging behaviors in adopted children and provides an added layer of complexity as they grow and develop their identity, especially in the teen years.

My children were no exception. They experienced some of the typical adoptee challenges, like unexplained anger or fear of losing parents. However, because of our openness, they know firsthand the side of themselves that comes from their biology, and this knowledge helped them grow up whole.

Many adoptees growing up in the closed era experienced a painful and unhealthy void by not knowing their biological family.

The birth parents have lost the ability to raise their child. And their extended family members experience this loss too. The grief they feel is likely to be deep and lasting. Professional help and therapy are often not available. Even if the birth mother and birth father can witness their child grow and thrive in an open adoption, healing will take a lot of intention and work.

One of our children’s birth fathers was able to get professional help and that helped him grow, heal and thrive. The other three birth parents did not have much support post-placement and are still working on healing.

The adoptive parents are likely grieving the loss of biological children due to infertility and may have had heart-wrenching miscarriages before coming to the adoption decision. Often, they do not recognize how vulnerable they are. Also, they need education on the specific needs of raising an adopted child. I wish I had more knowledge while raising my children. I would have given myself grace to know that I was vulnerable too.

Acknowledging this loss and grief for each member of the triad is the first step to begin the healing process. The best adoption agencies today provide post-placement support and therapy to birth and adoptive parents.  

I can legitimately and credibly give helpful advice to those who come after me, and I am now more prepared to do just that. I will keep learning, because this is a journey that lasts a lifetime.  

I remain a fierce advocate for open adoption when adoption is necessary, and transparency is safe and possible. When open adoption is carried out with intention, hard work and empathy for all parties, that process can ease much of the trauma and grief for everyone involved. The result can be a well-adjusted, happy adoptee surrounded with immeasurable love from both adoptive and birth family members.

Openness is almost always in the best interest of the adopted person, who must remain the North Star for all the parents involved.

Linda R. Sexton is an open adoption speaker, author, blogger and adoptive mom. She is a member of Florida Writers Association. The Branches We Cherish: An Open Adoption Memoir was awarded a gold medal in the prestigious Royal Palm Literary Awards. To learn more, visit lindarsexton.com.

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