As an adoptee, there was no adoption ceremony for my Birthmother. I was born and a few days later I went home with my Dad (who had jumped on a plane to come and get me). I doubt there was such a thing as adoption ceremony then – I believe the attitude was more one of getting the newborn out of the room and away from the Birthmother ASAP to avoid any bonding that might make it harder on the Birthmother. (I’m not saying I agree with this, I’m just saying from what I’ve gathered that was kind of how these things went.)

As a Birthmother, there was no adoption ceremony. My experience was much different than the one my birthmother had, but I must admit that such a thing as an adoption ceremony never really crossed my mind.

When I watched Lori’s episode of 16 and Pregnant, I was fascinated by the adoption ceremony that the adoptive parents held after Aidan was born. I feel like there was a chunk that we didn’t get to see, because frankly I found the back and forth with the roses to be kind of confusing.

I wonder if the adoption ceremony offers peace of mind or gives the birthmother a sense of closure? What do you think is it something that we should be seeing happen more often?

The jury is still out for me my friends but I look forward to your insight and possibly experience.

Rob and I don’t talk very often. I can honestly say that he does make an effort to call every ten to fourteen days to see how I am doing and once I say I’m fine, he gets off the phone as quickly as possible. Emily has come and gone, he was going to be moving, so he was staying busy. Frankly, I’ve been a little relieved because it’s hard to get on with your life and move forward when your past keeps popping up over and over again.

I mention this because Sunday while I was standing at a gas station, putting the gas cap back on my car but basking in the sunshine and thinking about how lucky I am to live in the South in the Spring, my phone rang and it was Rob. He was about a week early for his check in phone call but I still answered, I don’t know what I was expecting but I was unprepared for what I got.

After the expected pleasantries (you know “hey, how’s it going?” “good, you?” “good.”) were exchanged, Rob blurted out with “I just got off the phone with my parents and we’ve made some decisions about the adoption.”

I felt the world start spinning and I got in my car and pulled it away from the pump and out of the way.  I was confused for many reasons, the first being that we had agreed that he wasn’t going to tell his parents about this whole pregnancy situation. It was the last of three agreements that we made that had been unbroken. I could tell by the tone of his voice, that I was not going to like what was coming.

“What decisions have you made about my son?” I asked, with as much calm and quiet as I could muster.

“Well, my Dad doesn’t think that I should give the baby to strangers to raise, especially since my brother and his wife are currently going through the process to adopt a baby.”

“I see,” I said. Rob’s brother, John was the proverbial Black Sheep of the family he had an addiction problem, had stolen from his parents and been kicked out of the house, gone to jail, and Rob and his Father thought I was going to hand my son over to him to raise on the promise that he had turned his life around. The world around me was still spinning but everything was awash in shades of red.

“That way Elizabeth could get pictures and updates, and maybe my daughter could even be a part of the baby’s life.” He said.

“Excuse me?” I asked, breathing deeply and trying to focus and make my anger go away, trying not to lose my temper. Elizabeth was his ex-wife why was she going to need pictures and updates?

“Well when I told her about this whole adoption thing earlier this week she got upset that our daughter wouldn’t get to know her half-brother. She wants to know how and where the baby is, and how he’s doing.”

I have always known I have a rotten temper. I have always prided myself on the amount of self-control that I have that I don’t lose my temper more. However, the people closest to me know that when I am really angry and really calm – it’s probably best to head for the hills. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being minor annoyance and 10 being postal – I was about 15, nuclear and ready to explode.

“Rob, I can’t talk to you about this right now,” I said “obviously you’ve had time to prepare yourself for this conversation, I haven’t. I need some time to digest.”

“No Joy, we’re going to talk about his right now,” he said loudly.

“I assure you, we’re not. I’ll call you later.” I said and then I hung up the phone.

I don’t think I was ever as angry in my whole life, as I was right that minute. My hands were shaking and my son was shifting from one side of my swollen belly to the other, I suspect that he was getting a flood of emotions from me at that minute, and I was ashamed that none of them were very good. I hugged my belly and I thought of Beth and John, my son’s parents, because I really believed with my whole heart that they were meant to be my son’s parents, so what was I going to do about this? I certainly wasn’t going to let Rob’s Father control what I did with my baby.

I called Rob back a few hours later but only to tell him that I would call him tomorrow so we could discuss things. I simply told him I had a few things I needed to work out. In actuality I had a plan, and that was to offer him a counter proposal, one that would hit Rob where it hurt most.

When I arrived at work on Monday, I had two emails from Rob’s family. I had one from his Father telling me I was a slut and a whore and he was glad my plan to “trap his son” had blown up in my face and that he was going to make sure some good came out of my selfishness. (Quite honestly the email was much longer than that, but that was the gist of it. To this day it is still the cruelest email I have ever received.) The second email was from Rob’s sister, who I had met once – we stayed at her house for a weekend, telling me how hurt and disappointed she was my behavior. I did not respond to the sister from Rob’s sister but I did take the time to point out that I had moved out and come up with my adoption plan all without his son, I never, not once suggested we get back together let alone try to get married. I assured him I would pray for him, because with so much hatred in his heart clearly that’s what he needed – prayers. What the heck had Rob told these people?

I called Mary at the attorney’s office to let her know what was going on and to put my mind at ease that really the only people who could stop Beth and John from getting my son were Rob and myself. She assured me that was the case. I also told her that Rob’s ex-wife wanted “updates” and she said it was highly unlikely but really that was up to Beth and John. I told her that I would let Rob sort that out. (Frankly, I still thought that one was a little over the top.)

That evening, I got myself into the safest place I could think of and braced myself to do battle. In my heart I was fighting for my son’s future and for his happiness. I sat down on the floor with my back against the sofa, Ben snuggled next to me so I could pet his soft fur. (I found petting Ben to be very calming.) Then I called Rob.

“Hey,” I said brightly, “I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he said and I could tell he was suspicious.

“I think you and your parents are right, I don’t think a stranger should raise my son, so I talked to Cathy today at work, and she said that at the end of the month I was going to be getting that raise she’s been talking about.”

“That’s great,” he said and I could tell suspicion was giving way to confusion.

“Well, with that raise and what you would be legally obligated to give me in support, I can keep the baby.” I finished.

Between you and me, I was bluffing. The raise was still a carrot dangling over my head, I was still not interested or equipped to raise my son by myself but I refused to be back into a corner by this man and his family.

There was silence.

“So you better tell your family to play nicely since I’m going to be around for a long time.” I added, in a voice that sounded so sweet and so bright my teeth ached. If he had seen the fury on my face, he would’ve known it was a bluff but since he had wanted to do this over the phone, it had helped me out tremendously.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh I got some emails from your Father and sister today, they seem unimpressed by my choices. You really should encourage them to be nice to the mother of your child since obviously I’m not going to let my son visit people that call me a whore or talk badly about me. We’re going to have to work together to parent him.”

If I hadn’t had him when I mentioned the money – I had him now. I could almost hear him blanch over the phone.

“Now Joy, wait, you don’t really want to keep the baby do you?” He said, I could practically hear the back-peddling.

“I have always loved my baby and wanted what’s best for him, you and your Father made me realize it might be me.” I said.

Rob spent the next half an hour “convincing me” that Beth and John were the right parents for our son. I pretended to put up and admirable fight because I didn’t want him to know that he had just played right into my hands, but by the end of the call we were back on track. He also agreed to talk to his family and get them to refrain from any future emails. I told him I would appreciate it greatly. I told him if he wanted updates for his ex-wife he was going to have to call the attorney and see if Beth and John would be interested in doing that. (He never did.)

If I had thought, for one minute that any Rob’s Family’s plans for the baby had anything to do with love for my child – I might have been more receptive but I suspected that really it was more of pride. My suspicions were confirmed and my doubts were put at ease the next morning when I got the last email I would ever receive from Rob’s Dad. It was sent before Rob and I had reached our agreement so I never bothered to tell him about it, but the highlight was -

“Just because you are pregnant with my son’s child doesn’t mean you are anything to this family. The only thing you will accomplish in this life is giving birth to a child from someone of my son’s caliber who you preyed upon when he was emotionally weak.”

Yes, my behavior was not entirely on the up and up, but when I looked at that email I knew that at least I was making decisions from a place of love. I don’t think Rob’s Father could say the same.

Adoption can be such a polarizing issue, because there are children and strong feelings involved. (I mean really can anyone argue that the feelings that a mother has for a child are some of the strongest emotional bonds out there?)

I have often felt frustrated by adoption communities I’ve joined online because of some very vocal members at either end of the spectrum – the people who have been hurt by the adoption process and the people who think adoption is great and anyone who says otherwise is a bunch of whiners. (Please note, I am not referring to ALL people in adoption communities just the people who are so strong in their conviction that they need to make their conviction yours as well.)

I joined adoption communities because I wanted to chat with other people who had been where I’ve been. I wanted friends who understood that even though I am comfortable and confident in being an adoptee I still laugh at some of the quirky behavior I exhibit, and I wondered if anyone else shared those quirks. Instead “Camp Get Over It” tried to recruit me to their side – “see you were adopted and you’re fine, tell these people to be fine too.” In the meantime  the people who had been hurt tried to tell me I was in denial and one day, when I got in touch with my real feelings, and I was going to be devastated. Needless to say my membership in these online communities was short lived.

I just wanted to know if anyone else out there who was adopted decided that since their heritage was unknown they would celebrate all heritages. (Seriously I’ve enjoyed going to St.Patrick’s Day parades, St.Joesph’s Day Alters, and Greekfest is something I never miss – I’m not sure if this is a result of being fascinated by people who are still so in touch with their “roots” or because I really enjoy a good party and a good meal!) Did anyone else share a giggle with their adoptive parents after a stranger commented on how much they look alike? These were the adoption issues on my plate and I admit that they are kind of trite in the face of the pain and heartache of some adoption experiences, but I hoped there were other people who shared my experience.

I am 100% okay with being adopted, my family was not perfect, but it was mine and my parents love me, flaws and all. For almost ten years my birthmother has been a part of my life, and our relationship is not perfect either – she lives out of the country and I am often a lazy correspondent and my natural dislike of talking on the phone isn’t very helpful but she loves me too. I have always had two mothers, now I am blessed to have them both in my life and I couldn’t be happier.

I mention all this not to downplay the serious effects that adoption can have, good or bad, but really because I want to hear what you have to say about any experience you have with adoption and I want you to know that if you were adopted and you are okay, you are still welcome to leave your comments too.

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one”
~C.S. Lewis

“Dr.A, when do I get to have an ultrasound?” I asked at the end of my visit. He had just told me that things were good as we were entering the home stretch.

“You mean you haven’t had one yet?” he asked, as he began flipping through my chart. I shook my head in response. I could tell by his flustered reaction that some oversight had happened.  However, it was quickly resolved and as I checked out – I had two appointment cards in hand, one for my next appointment and one for my ultrasound.

I was so excited that I called Rob, thinking surely he would share my excitement and be ready to at least see if the baby was a boy or a girl. I am too happy and excited long to dwell on the details of that phone conversation, but I will say that Rob did not share my excitement and in fact said that he would come with me “if his work schedule allowed” but he wasn’t going to ask for time off or anything like that. Of course, we quarreled over this but in the end he was not off work and I was probably better off without him. (Towards the end of this journey I’ve tried to make this my mantra, I am better off without him.)

I got to the doctor’s office twenty minutes early on the day of the ultrasound, and I could already see a difference in the waiting room. Normally the OB GYN office is mostly just women. (Frankly since Dr.A has his pregnancy check in’s scheduled in clusters normally it’s just pregnant women.) However on ultrasound day – there were couples. I had a book open, one of the Harry Potter books, but I was peeking over the top at the couples.

More than once I had to blink tears away,  when a man touched a pregnant belly or a couple had their heads close together whispering excitedly. The snatches of conversation I was able to catch seemed to indicate that names were being debated, playful arguments about “I know it’s a boy” or “I know it’s a girl” and never in my whole pregnancy did I feel more alone than I did at that moment, but I also promised myself that one day I would be back here, with someone to share my excitement.

My name was called and as I followed the nurse, she looked at the Harry Potter book in my hands and smiled, “you’re going to be a great mother,” she said.

“I will,” I said but I silently added “someday.”

With eyes intent on the screen while the ultrasound tech moved the instrument over my belly, I couldn’t tell what anything was at first. There was white objects that seemed to emerge out of the darkness but they were all completely unidentifiable. However, then as clear as day I saw an arm and at the end of that arm I saw a little fist with his thumb sticking up. Like the baby was giving me a “thumbs up” sign. The ultrasound technician laughed, as she explained what I was looking at (even though I could tell) she printed out the picture.

She moved the instrument around some more, and showed me a profile picture, took some measurements, and made comments about how good the spine look, how the measurements are right on track. Then she asked the million dollar question – “do you want to know the sex?”

“Yes,” I said smiling a bright excited smile. (Beth and John did not want to know but I was dying to know.)

“It’s a boy,” she said and she pointed out his “boy parts.”

A boy! Finally no longer just “a baby” – I was having a boy and I couldn’t wait to hold him in my arms and meet him.

Marc Price as Skippy Handleman

As you know I am always interested about how adoption is portrayed in the media, and there’s a reason for my fascination. When I was a kid I was a HUGE fan of Family Ties and I will never forget when Skippy (the boy next door) discovered he was adopted. (Season 2, episode 19: Baby Boy Doe, it aired on 8 March 1984)

Keeping in mind I wasn’t 10 yet – I was really excited to find out Skippy was adopted too. However, at my tender age my excitement quickly turned to horror when Skippy finds his birth mother (alternately called his “natural” or “real” mother throughout the episode) and she rejects him. Okay this is a HUGE oversimplification of what happened but again at my age I saw Skippy’s birthmother get really upset when she found him and I remember thinking “wow, I guess I should never try to find my birthmother.”

Growing up it wasn’t just Skippy, though he was my earliest memory of adoption on television. When I got older Viki on Head of the Class and her teacher went to find her birthmother at Christmas time. (season 5, episode 15: Viki’s Torn Genes, it aired on 18 December 1990) I don’t think I saw the end of this one, ever – frankly at that point I wasn’t really watching the show very much and once her birthmother didn’t want to see her – I probably abandoned it for something else.

No fear, at some point I grew up to understand the subtitles of the episode of Family Ties that I didn’t understand when I was younger, but I always think back on that. It’s perfectly normal to look for people we identify with on television so what television portrays can really have a profound effect. I also wonder for people who had NO adoption experience what they take away from the way adoption is portrayed on television?