Once upon a time, a birthmother crossed an imaginary
bridge with her child in her arms and placed the child
in our waiting arms. She entrusted us to be loving
parents and to honor and cherish this child that she
could not keep. When our children became adults, it was
our turn to walk back across that imaginary bridge with
our son or daughter to the other side, where their life
began. It was our turn to trust the birthmother and
birth family to be there for our adult son or daughter
when they reach out to connect both of their families,
adoptive and biological, through them.
I always cringe when I hear an adoptive parent
describe their adopted son or daughter as a “gift” from
the birthmother. A “gift” usually means something given
freely and without reservation. The majority of adopted
babies were “entrusted” to us — they were not a gift!
We were entrusted to care for and love this child that
the birthmother was not able to keep because of family
and social pressure and stigma. The birthmother also
loved and cherished this child that she relinquished to
us, the adopting family. She was told that she was doing
“the best thing” for her child.
"Search” and “reunion” are words that you probably
never thought about when your adopted baby was placed in
your arms for the first time. As your son or daughter
grew and matured, did you ever think about the
possibility of search and reunion? I know I didn’t…
until my daughter brought up the subject of looking for
her birth family when she was 18 years old. I never
thought about asking her if she ever considered
searching for her birth family
I was the average adoptive parent… ignorant of the
research by people like Nancy Verrier (as documented in
her book The Primal Wound); ignorant of an
adoptee’s need to claim their biological heritage;
ignorant of what it felt like to be relinquished, or
what it felt like to relinquish a child. I only knew
the joy of adoption. I knew none of the pain of
relinquishment.
I always thought about my daughter’s birthmother
throughout her growing up years. At our daughter’s first
birthday party, she was dressed in her lacy, pink dress
with matching ruffled panties and white socks and Mary
Jane shoes, and I vividly remember wishing that her
birthmother could be there to share in the joy of this
celebration. With each succeeding birthday, Christmas,
dance recital, first day of kindergarten, first day of
college, and graduation, I wished that her birthmom
could be there to experience the accomplishments and
celebrations of this beautiful and lovable daughter.
Throughout the years, I always thought to myself “she
would be so proud of her.”
As “good” adoptive parents, we told our daughter from
an early age that she was adopted. We explained that
while she was not born “in my tummy” like her older
brother, she was born “in my heart.” Since she didn’t
really question our explanation, we didn’t ask her how
she felt about that difference. In our ignorance we
didn’t take the conversation any further by providing a
safe forum for her to discuss the “how-comes” of a tummy
versus heart birth. In retrospect, I can see that we
emphasized the heart experience and didn’t elaborate on
the tummy experience, even though both experiences
belonged to her. This was probably because we didn’t
know much about her birthmother except what the social
workers told us at the time: that she was 19, unmarried,
a college student and felt that adoption was the best
option under the circumstances.
At 18, when our daughter did question us about her
birthmother and any information we might know, we
offered to help her get information from the adoption
agency. With a payment of $100 and a few months’ wait,
the information arrived in the mail. We all read it over
and discussed it, but since there weren’t any names or
addresses, it didn’t seem that we were any more
knowledgeable about her biological heritage than we were
18 years earlier. The non-identifying information was
put away, but went with her as she left to go to college
and grad school. Eight years later, with her diplomas in
hand and a new job secured in the city of her birth, the
discussion about her birth family became a priority.
Within a few months, we were able to find out her
birthmother’s maiden surname. We spent days in the
library going through old city directories and phone
books and compared the names to the current phone books.
There was only one last name that matched the name we
had. Our daughter called the number one evening and her
birthmother answered. That was almost five years ago and
now my long-standing wish for her mother to be able to
share in the joys and celebrations of our daughter has
finally come true.
Being there to support my daughter in her search and
reunion has brought us even closer as an adoptive
family. When I hear that other adoptive parents are
afraid of search and reunion because they fear losing
their son or daughter, I am not surprised that they
don’t realize that it actually strengthens their
relationship. I cannot imagine not supporting your son
or daughter in their search and reunion anymore than I
can imagine not allowing them to get their driver’s
license or go on that first date or leave home to attend
the college of their choice. Why be afraid of more
people that will love your son or daughter? Adoptive
parents have one more parenting task to do for their
adopted son or daughter than biological parents have.
That task is to support them in their search for their
birth family as a part of the process of their growing
up adopted and feeling good about who they are and where
they came from.
Search and reunion is probably one of the most
emotional experiences that adoptees will ever undertake.
An adopted person needs the support and approval of
their adoptive family. They need to share the experience
with the only family that they have known. Provide a
forum for that discussion. Bring it up in conversation.
Don’t wait for them to talk to you about it, for they
may feel that it only hurts you to acknowledge that they
have “another family.” Being supportive of their search
and reunion can be as simple as asking them to tell you
about what is happening and showing your continued love
and interest in their search journey.
Adoptees often have abandonment issues from their
original relinquishment. To feel abandoned a second time
by their adoptive family just when they are trying to
resolve these issues through search and reunion is an
emotional hardship. To ignore or discount the importance
of their biological family feels like genealogical
genocide to an adoptee. If blended families are possible
in families that divorce and marry new partners, then
blended families are also possible in adopted families.
Searching is not about adoption and it has nothing to
do with the quality of adoptive family parenting.
Searching is about relinquishment and the search for
self.