A Case for Domestic, Open Adoption

Adoption isn't for everyone.

That isn't what this post is about.  You need to do what's right for your family.

Lately, I've had so many people ask me questions about our adoption, either because they're just being nice, because they secretly want to adopt but are afraid to mention the idea to their spouse, because they're trying to decide between international and domestic adoption, or because they've talked about adoption for years but have never known where to begin.  Whatever the reason, I'm going to attempt to debunk a few of the myths I've heard (and believed myself) about domestic, open adoptions.  Adoption is important, and I think that more people would do it if it wasn't so intimidating.

Myth #1:  Adoption is too expensive.

Okay, let's be real.  Adoption through an agency is expensive.  But it's not too expensive.  Our daughter's adoption ended up costing more than we anticipated (over $18,000), but we made it.  We aren't millionaires- our combined incomes are far less than even six digits.  Whether or not you read anything else on this point, please read the following: If you wait until you have all of the money to adopt, you'll never do it.  We have been very blessed with supportive family and friends who helped us tremendously, but adoptions are still possible without those things.  There are adoption tax credits, employee adoption grants, odd jobs, savings accounts, low-interest adoption loans, garage sale fundraisers, reduced trips to Starbucks, grants through adoption agencies, and other options.  Normal people (not just wealthy people) can adopt. Throughout our adoption process, I have found myself in tears, humbled by the grace of God and the generosity of others in helping us bring home little Piper.  We have certainly found it to be true that "He can do infinitely more than all we ask or imagine."  And in case you were wondering, our little girl is more than worth every penny.

Myth #2:  The birth mom will change her mind.

There actually is some truth to this one.  A birth mom can change her mind and decide to parent up until the point when she terminates her rights (within a month after the baby is born).  This has happened several times throughout the past year at the agency we used.  Think about it, though- wouldn't you maybe consider doing the same?  All of a sudden, the baby that you've carried for nine months is very real and very beautiful, and it would become very easy to justify your situation and believe that you could take care of him or her.  I constantly worried that Piper's birth mom would reverse her decision.  But at the same time, I knew that I would be okay if she did.  These birth parents aren't crazy, y'all.  They're pretty amazing people actually, and I love Piper's birth mom so much that I genuinely wanted the best for her in that period of uncertainty.  Adoption, like most things worth doing, is risky.  The birth mom really could change her mind.  And you really would be okay.

Myth #3:  The birth parents will try to take my child away.

After birth parents have terminated their rights, they legally cannot take the child from you.  In Oklahoma, birth fathers can sign their rights away before the baby is born.  Birth mothers, as I mentioned before, must appear in court within a month of giving birth to terminate their rights.  After both of those situations have occurred, only the state can take the baby away from you, which would never happen unless they found evidence of you being abusive.  Birth parents aren't going to come knocking on your door to steal your child.  Give them a little credit.  

Myth #4:  Open adoptions are a pain and I don't want my child to be in contact with his/her birth parents.

First of all, there are varying levels of openness for domestic adoptions.  Our agency requires at least a semi-open agreement.  Minimum obligations are sending letters and pictures (via the agency) to the birth parents monthly for the first year, and then twice a year after that.  If you are hesitant to send letters and pictures, I urge you to consider the reasons why.  Your child will always consider you to be her parents, but the desire to know who the birth parents are is innate in every adopted child.  You owe your child honesty.  

I also ask you to put yourself in a birth parent's shoes for a moment.  If you had given birth to a baby, you would always want to know that that baby is okay.  You would probably think about him all the time and wonder how he is doing.  You would ask yourself, daily, if you had made the right decision.  Now back to reality.  When regarding the tremendous gift that your child's birth parents gave you, doesn't it seem like a small task to update them every once in awhile?  

Finally, I urge you to contemplate the caliber of people who choose to give their babies up for adoption.  While it is true that some are not excellent role models, that is not the case in most instances.  Piper's birth parents are exactly the kind of people who I want her to know.  They are selfless, brave, and generous. My husband and I are hoping that they will be involved in Piper's life.  We text with them every so often just to check in, and they're not ready to see Piper again yet.  (It has only been three months.)  You don't have to start off an open or semi-open agreement by giving away your phone number.  Our relationship has evolved to the point where we felt comfortable with that, but yours wouldn't necessarily have to be the same.  A healthy sense of caution about birth parents is acceptable; an irrational, judging fear is not.  Be skeptical of your skepticism.

Myth #5:  My child's birth mom will have consumed drugs and alcohol during her pregnancy and harmed my child.

It's possible, yes.  But maybe not.  Again, there is much to be said here for being cautious as opposed to being fearful.  At our agency, we were allowed to choose the amount of prenatal drug and alcohol exposure that we would allow for our baby.  None of the case workers made us feel guilty about our decisions or tried to force us to do anything against our beliefs because they knew that we needed to make the best choice(s) for our family.  In the end, we decided that we had to leave Piper's health and well-being in God's hands. Prenatal drug and alcohol exposures can cause problems for babies and children; so can many other factors.

Myth #6:  An adopted child won't really feel like "ours."

We don't have biological children, but I don't know how any child could feel more like "ours" than Piper does.  I can't imagine my heart being any more full of love, nor can I imagine wanting any other child in the world in her place.  That's all I have to say about that.

Myth #7:  There is a greater need for international adoption than domestic adoption.

I have a hard time not getting angry about this myth.  My husband and I hope to pursue international adoption one day and feel called to bringing a child home from Peru because of our attachment to and love for that country.  However, international adoption is not "cooler," "better," or "more necessary" than adopting in the the United States.  If you're going into adoption with the mindset that you are "rescuing" a child, I ask you to consider the thousands of children in your own state who need "rescuing" from foster care...babies who need "rescuing" from a life of neglect...teens who need "rescuing" from juvenile detention centers...birth parents who need "rescuing" from the feeling of having to abort because there are no other options.  And then remember that ultimately, whatever child you bring into your family will end up rescuing you in more ways than you even realized you needed it.  Domestic adoptions are so important.  Look at our foster care system or meet a birth parent, and you will undoubtedly know that this is true.

I'm not trying to convince you to do something that you don't think is right for your family.  What I do know is that I believed every single one of these myths until we jumped into Piper's adoption.  Now that I'm on the other side, I can say that a domestic, open adoption is hard, frustrating, scary, unpredictable, unusual, hopeful, happy, freeing, beautiful, and worth every monetary, physical, and emotional cost.  Adoption is joy. 

A tribute to single parents

I see you walking your kids into my Pre-K classroom every morning.  They look well-rested, and you look exhausted already.

I see you in the grocery store, pushing your cart through crowded aisles and trying to get your son to sit down.

I see you at your job.  You're often the first one there and the last one to leave.  It's killing you that your baby has been with someone else all day, but there is no other way.

I see you at your kids' soccer games, at their parent-teacher conferences, at church, and at other activities that are important to your little ones.

I don't often see you at concerts, at the nail salon, at sporting events, or at adult parties.  I don't see you at activities "for you."

I love my daughter "to the moon and back," as the old children's book says, so I understand why you do what you do.  It's because you have to.  Because you wouldn't have it another way.  Because their happiness matters more than your own.

This post began with me bragging on Piper's dad.  Truly, he's wonderful, and I'm incredibly thankful.  Then I started thinking about how I should write about more than my husband.  I couldn't do all of this without him.  But, single parent, "without him" or "without her" is your life- every day, every moment.  

Here I have to apologize.  I used to look at your kids and blame you when they misbehaved in my class.  "Their mom doesn't spend enough time with them," I thought.  Not long ago, I would see your daughter with boogers in her nose and wonder why you didn't grab a tissue on your way out the door.  I noticed your children having a hard time standing in line in Wal-Mart but failed to see the helpless look on your face because sometimes, kids will just be kids.  Here's the worst one of all: I had no sympathy for you because I didn't take time to listen to your story or care about your circumstances.  Then I had a baby of my own.  I get it now, and I'm so sorry.

I'm alone with my daughter for about six or seven hours each day before her daddy comes home.  There are days when those hours are pure joy, and then there are days when she screams.  And screams.  On the screaming days, I can't wait for my husband to walk in the door.  He lets me go for a run, grab a cup of coffee with a friend, or get a pedicure.  I know that those aren't usually options for single parents, bless you.  I'm run ragged half the time, and I'm not in this alone.

Your infant is never going to thank you for changing his diaper.  Your daughter probably forgot to give you a hug after you took her to dance practice.  Your son didn't show his appreciation that you took off work early to be at his football game.  Your child's teacher didn't realize how much you had to sacrifice to be at that meeting.  Your boss didn't care that you stayed late...again.

So to the military wife, the single mom working two jobs, the husband whose wife always travels for business, and the single dad who wakes up at 4:30 to get it all done, I hope someone looked you in the eyes today to say, "Thank you."  And I hope you listened.  Lord knows you've got lots on your plate, and you're a rockstar in my book.