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Birth Parents in International Adoption

Sat, 02 Jun 2007 09:01:19 GMT

Right from the beginning, I want to admit two important facts that have been part of my belief system for a very long time:

I've never wanted to find my own birth family. I was domestically adopted at birth in the USA, and I have had very minor interest regarding my birth family. Nor have I had any identity issues that would lead me on a search for a 'missing piece' of myself.
Twelve years ago, my husband and I chose international adoption for the specific reason that "birthparents will not be part of the picture." I had no intention of sharing my child with some unknown family. I wanted things to be straight forward and absent of anyone or anything that complicated my or my future child's life.�

Being adopted myself has afforded many benefits to parenting adopted children that I had not anticipated. I understand their basic curiosities about their origins. I feel no insecurity when they talk about their birth parents, because I know that at their ages I also wondered if I was really a princess who had been mistakenly 'lost', and wondered if my first family thought of me on my birthday. My advantage also allows me to anticipate questions they might be hesitant to ask and bring those inquiries into our daily lives and conversations.

Although I have a lack of desire to search for my own birth family, I have made it abundantly and frequently clear that this is simply my own point of view. That there are many adoptees who have a strong desire to know more and understand the details surrounding their birth/adoption/life-story.

What I did not expect or anticipate, however, is how my own five children who came to our family through adoption would feel freedoms of expression and emotion that I never had. My open attitude has allowed our girls, who came to us at all ages (and are now ages 8-17 years), to explore and claim their rights to know and understand their heritage. They want whatever answers are available, and feel it is their absolute right to know every moment of their own history, as is the right of a child born into a family.

As a parent, these issues aren't a smooth or easy road to walk. My daughter from Korea will have the option to search for her birth family and a very good chance to find them. My four daughters from China have extremely limited options. Going back to their orphanages they might receive information about where they were found, or a copy of a note left by a birthparent when they were abandoned. While we as parents cherish these little details, stepping back we must realize how tiny and insignificant they will be to our teenage and adult children. They offer no real answers, only more confusion and questions. These little scraps of information do not answer the essential questions my daughters and thousands of other adoptees are asking:

Who are my birthparents?
Why, specific to me, (and not in general i.e.: poverty, single parenthood, government policies) was I abandoned/placed for adoption?
Do I have birth-siblings?
Did my birth family want me?
What do my birthparents look like?
What would my life be like if they had kept me?
Did they love me?
Do they ever think of me?
Do they miss me?

I can re-assure my children over and over again, but I also now understand this: Knowing what I know now, my attitude has completely changed. If I could choose, I would have some type of contact with the birthparents of my children. I would try to bridge any social or cultural gaps between us and I would absolutely welcome them into our lives.

Not as co-parents..no. That would not be impossible. But as the birth-parents, the first parents of the beautiful children I love with every piece of my heart and soul.

When my children were younger, it was easy to tell them, and have them accept, that they would meet their birth parents in heaven. They were at peace with this idea and I felt I was doing a good job. Now that I have 2 pre-teens and 2 teenagers, I know this assurance is simply not enough. Regardless of whether or not the answers can be found for all of their questions, the issues MUST be explored.

Less than a week ago, I returned from a birth-land trip with my daughter, Jennifer WuQin, who was adopted at age nine-years from China. She has now graduated from high school and we took this trip as her graduation gift. Her primary goal? Contact the orphanage and see her file and gain any and all photos of herself as a child before we adopted her. Through the hard work of Lotus Travel, she was able to visit her orphanage and many caretakers, but her requests for more information were denied.

Did we feel cheated or disappointed? YES. We did. While I fully respect the adoption process of this country, I also feel that there was a file, sitting just a few floors above us in the orphanage, that probably contained very minor information. But those tiny details would have given her some hope that she could someday find the answers to the puzzle of her life.

My daughter Jennifer is the most amazing person. I love her more than could ever be described. Will this incident truly affect her life? I think not. But this trip helped me understand even better what I now know to be true: International adoptees are organizing themselves and demanding information that is equivalent to our open-adoption system in the USA. Nothing any adoptive parent attempts to do will deter this. These young people want answers and will not stop at the first closed door. My daughter fully intends to find another road to the answers she seeks.

As adoptive parents we have only three choices:

Tell our children their birthparents loved them but could not parent them due to circumstances in their lives (yes, this may be very true).

Open ourselves to the reality that our children absolutely will be able to find their birthparents (it's a reality: genetic testing in the next 20 years will match our kids to their birthparents through-out the world) and support our children.
Vainly try to brainwash our children into believing that their birthparents do not matter and/or are bad people.

I know that last option does not go down well. But the truth is, I receive articles all the time that are warm and loving in the telling of the adoption story, but mention the birthparents as alcoholic, street-people, unmarried mothers of many, etc..facts? Maybe. But honestly..these are human conditions that yes, may have led to the placement of the child in an orphanage, but do the fully describe the parent/human that is your child's link to life before adoption? And is this the primary information you want your child to believe? The honest truth that I have seen played out again and again in adoptees is this:

When parents emphasize that a birthparent had specific problems, the child will often work very hard to have those exact same problems. It's part of forming identity. The best option for an adoptive parent is to love their child fully, while also supporting their child's journey of identity, culture/racial issues and knowledge of self. This helps a child seek out the positive and the truth, and at the same time view the adoptive parent as a truly supportive, loving parent who is not threatened or fear-filled. Because the truth is, adoptive parents need to accept that we are the parents of our children, and we do not lose that identity or our children's love simply because they wish to explore their history, culture or origins.

I've spent the bulk of this article dispelling the 2^nd fact I presented in the beginning. It would be dishonest to end it here. I have made the decision to carefully wade into finding my original family. My birth-family.

I was adopted in 1968, and my parents (my adoptive parents/real parents, who raised me) were pretty forward-thinking. They truly raised me to have a great respect for the choice my birth-mother made. And yet, there is this tinge of guilt, this shame I feel for wanting to do this. I know my parents do not understand, and do not truly support this search, though they are trying to appear supportive.so I continue to put off papers I could file or roads I could take, because of the guilt I feel.

I admit this now because it is the honest thing to do. Five months ago, just after my 39^th birthday, I suffered a minor heart attack. 16 years ago, I had my first run-in with skin cancer. For these reasons, I would like to have some type of contact that would allow me to have access to my birth family's medical records. And I have met a brick wall. Even today, in the USA, my records are impossible to 'unseal'. They exist, but I cannot reach them. I might as well be back in China two weeks ago, with my daughter asking for records that are there, but being denied access. And that needs to change.

As an adoptee I want only this single message to get through to adoptive parents:

We love you. You are our parents. If you fill us with guilt because of your insecurities or fears, it does not stop our needs or longing, but only makes us deny or hate ourselves for wanting some simple facts or knowledge. And eventually our anger turns inward to ourselves, our outwards to you. Love us enough to be secure and know we love you also, as we can love no one else.

As and adoptive mom I want my children to know this:

I am fallible. I won't always hear your need, or know your longing, but I am trying. I am secure in your love for me and I want you to explore every avenue for your life.

I'm not afraid anymore. Is that strange to say at my age? Probably as strange as saying that I am glad I had a heart attack. It freed me from any guilt that I may have had. I love my parents and accept them as well. But I also know and do not fear that I losing their love. I have to follow my own path.

By loving my parents and my children, I have become a bridge. An adoptee and an adoptive mom. I need to find my answers and I respect that my children also need to find their own answers, in their own time. My desire is for everyone to get past the fear and embrace what I tell my children daily:

Love is the only thing in life that multiplies the more you give it away.

A Child's Guide to Adoption

Mon, 11 Jun 2007 12:50:52 GMT

How is a family created? Most people think that a family is made when a couple gives birth to children. That's true, many times families are formed in this way.�But there are also other ways families are formed. In the old television show The Brady Bunch, the mother and father get remarried, combining their two families into one. Another way to create a family is by adoption. In legal terms, once a child is adopted, the adult who adopted him is his parent.

Why do people want to adopt children?

There are probably as many reasons for wanting to adopt kids as there are children waiting to be adopted. Some couples are not able to have children for medical reasons but still want to raise a family. Some single adults, although they don't have a partner or want to get married, desperately want to be a parent. Other kids' parents might remarry and their new stepparent might adopt them. Whatever way a parent and child come together, whether it's through birth, marriage, or adoption - a new family is born.

What's Adoption and How Does It Work?

The process of adopting a kid can be pretty long and involved. Some single adults and couples have to wait for years to adopt a baby. People wanting to adopt go through extensive background checks including, in some states, having their fingerprints sent to the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI).

People who want to adopt kids also meet with social workers or representatives from an adoption agency who ask questions like why they want to adopt, their attitudes toward children, and how they resolve family disagreements. This process is needed so that kids are placed in good homes where they can grow up happy and loved.

Why Do Kids Need to Be Adopted?

Of course, the financial side is only part of adoption, a very small part.�Babies and kids are a huge responsibility and not everyone is equipped to handle being a parent, or ready to parent when a child is born to them. If you've ever taken care of a puppy, you know that taking care of a pet can be very demanding, and they require lots of attention. Taking care of a baby is probably a hundred times more work! But this is only one of many reasons why there are so many kids waiting to be adopted.

In many cases, a young or single woman who gives birth to a baby can't handle that responsibility so she makes an adoption plan for her baby. Other times, especially in the case of adoptions from other countries, there is war, sickness, or poverty, and a parent may believe that the baby would be better off in another country. Sometimes a child's parents may pass away and he needs to go to someone else who can take care of him.

If You Were Adopted

Kids who were adopted are no different than other kids. But if you were adopted, you may have a little more on your mind than your friends. Sometimes, learning you were adopted may make it hard for you to pay attention in school. Many kids who were adopted wonder about their birth parents and why they didn't keep them. Sometimes they feel abandoned even if they love their parents and are happy in their home. They may also wonder where they came from and what nationalities they are. These feelings are normal and should be talked about with a parent or another adult who you trust so you can put your mind at ease.

Some kids do not find out they were adopted until they are older - sometimes not until they are adults themselves. Their parents might have put off telling them until they thought they would be able to better understand or because they feared what their reaction would be. Finding out later that they were adopted can be more of an adjustment for an older child or adult. That's why experts say it's best to explain to a child that he or she was adopted when they are around age 3 or 4, when they are first putting sentences together and can understand complex things.

If Your Brother or Sister Was Adopted

If your parents�gave birth to�you, you may have heard others refer to you as your parent's 'real child'.� How does that make you feel? Does that make your adopted brother or sister fake? Of course not! Being adopted doesn't make a sibling any less real or part of the family. There is no question that there are differences between you and your brother or sister. But there would be differences between you if you were both born into your family as well. No two people are alike. Think how boring that would be!

The facts are, your brother or sister - adopted or not - is going to be a part of your life for a very long time and you will rely on each other even more as you get older. Talk to your adopted brother or sister about his or her concerns. You might be able to help him or her sort out his or her feelings about being adopted or encourage him or her to talk to a parent or another trusted adult. You might even suggest that you talk about the situation as a family.

If Someone You Know Was Adopted

If you find out that someone you know, maybe a good friend, was adopted, there is no reason to treat them any differently. Your friend is still the same person they were the day before. If your friend wants or needs to talk about their situation, listen. Your friend will probably feel better just talking about his or her feelings, and by being a good listener, you've been a good friend. Knowing how your friend feels about their situation will allow you to stand up to anyone who tries to make fun of them for being different.

Adoption can be hard to understand, especially for those who may not have an adopted sibling, cousin or friend. Part of growing up is learning that families are formed in many ways, and accepting and embracing the differences that make each of us unique.

Thoughts on Attachment

Tue, 12 Jun 2007 15:58:09 GMT

Most of what I read in the popular literature makes attachment sound like a rope that runs between a child and a parent. Either your child is holding the rope and is "attached" or he/she has dropped the rope and has attachment problems. Needless to say, this is a simplistic image. The fact is, attachment is a complex relationship between parent and child and there are a wide range of variations and problems. Both parent and child contribute to the health of this special relationship.

I think of attachment as many woven strands between parent and child. These strands grow gradually and continually throughout the relationship. Both parent and child have to work at creating the weaving. When the weaving progresses smoothly, and the relationship is mainly cooperative, we call the attachment "secure". Secure attachment provides the child with a safe base (a parent) who helps the child maintain physical and emotional balance as the child moves away from the parent-base to explore the world and become an individual person. Reconnecting with the parent is a way for the child to regain equilibrium and to process experiences.

Before a parent can be a "secure base", infants have to know how to locate and signal or call the parent. When a parent initially anticipates and then responds to the signals, infants learn to communicate and trust that adult. There are a multitude of ways that this intimacy helps a child maintain physical and emotional balance. If the tasks of development (trust, social relationships, mastery of skills, identity) are the high wire act, then attachment is the combination of the ladders, guywires, balance pole, and of course, the ever-present safety net.

When a child looses birthmom, has a succession of caregivers, and finally is adopted, I imagine the base feels more like a foundation for a building constructed by several different construction crews. Each crew had it's own set of plans, and poured separate concrete slabs next to and/or on top of each other. To make matters worse, the building that must rest upon this base is grieving for the departed contractors.

To gain a child's trust, an adoptive parent must acknowledge not only the piecemeal foundation but the fact the child may still be waiting for past workers to return. This expectation resurfaces each time a developmental reorganization occurs. No matter how early the separations occurred, the child will be cognizant on some level of the patched together pieces. Without the acknowledgement of these facts by the adoptive parent, the child feels a bit crazy, "Am I imagining something? Why do I feel this way?" The infant or child cannot relax and trust deeply no matter how good or kind or consistent the adoptive parents may be. This unshared piece leads children to become "very busy" or "always happy" as a way to avoid feeling puzzlement, grief and the gap in the present relationship. This is initially a small but real hole in the fabric of attachment. However, as adolescence arrives, the hole widens, precisely because it was previously unaddressed. It offers teens an additional excuse to feel distrust for their parents. When adoptive parents address the issue, the child feels completely "known" by the parent, this is calming and the child can "play" and "feel" more fully.

A child with a patched base history may become demanding, coercive, helpless or threatening in the attachment relationship. Indiscriminant friendliness, or difficulty maintaining emotional or physical balance, difficulties in sensory integration may also occur. When these behaviors prevent the child from accomplishing developmental tasks or interfere with the parent-child relationship the attachment is called "atypical". The weaving has knots or gaps with strands in need of strengthening or repair. Adoptive families may have secure or atypical attachments, just as non-adoptive families do. In early childhood these issues are subtle and resemble difficult phases or temperament. Left unattended, these strands of early childhood difficulties can affect learning, behavior and social relationships.

Reactive attachment disorder (RAD) is quite different than what has been described so far. It occurs when a child has experienced global neglect, that is neglect of every need for many months or years. It is when all or nearly all of the strands that form attachments have been torn to the point the child no longer wants to enter into a genuine, interdependent relationship with an adult. From time to time, nearly all children with complex histories will show behavior that resembles an individual symptom of reactive attachment disorder. These behaviors stem from the time when there was no consistent or responsive caregiver available. Most children and their adoptive parents have the will to repair the strands, and to tolerate the melt-downs that are part of growing up in a family following a difficult early life.

Normally, children become disorganized emotionally and physically before each developmental leap whether it's rolling over, crawling, talking, going to pre-school, learning to read, or preparing for college. Children get cranky and have more than the usual number of a melt-downs. The communication suddenly shifts to baby talk and tantrums. Under the stress of disorganizing, adopted children frequently regress, or revert to survival skills they developed in institutions. These behaviors are typical when a child's brain is reorganizing. (They are also typical when a child is overstimulated, tired, or getting too little attention from a parent to remain in emotional balance.) During periods of reorganization, children need more help from their parent to maintain emotional balance. Since children cannot notify parents of what is happening to them, parents need to anticipate, or at least recognize, these points of disorganization, by learning about child development. A child needs parents to restrict stimulation and demands during this period. It is not the time to start a new music class or increase household chores. T. Berry Brazelton has calls these points of disorganization "touchpoints" because they offer parents and children a powerful opportunity to deepen their attachment.

In looking for guidance, adoptive parents are thrown off track by parenting books and pediatricians who do not take into account our children's early experience with separation and loss. How many parents have had friends, family or pediatricians who say, "throw that bottle away!" just a few months after an infant or toddler has been adopted. These well meaning advisors are forgetting about the importance of sucking for comfort for a child who has recently lost everyone and everything familiar. Throughout an adoptive child's life, sensitive parents must ask themselves if a parenting strategy or technique takes their child's history into account. Many parents worry that a stage will be permanent if they don't immediately eradicate the behavior. Sensitive and authoritative parents can take a step or two back when necessary, while keeping reasonable expectations for the future.

Adoption issues often come up when developmental reorganization occurs. Along with learning to share and wait in line, adopted pre-schoolers want to know "who will take care of me if mommy or daddy dies?" (which non-adopted children almost never ask) As they master times-tables, reading and writing, school aged children want to know if they can be "readopted" to another family, (non-adopted children don't spend time worrying that their parents might give them away or "throw them in the trash.") When adolescents take foreign language classes and advanced chemistry, they threaten to run away to China to find and live with birthparents. All of these are expressions of anxiety about their "secure base", and a wish for reassurance. These demands on parents are more typical of children with complex histories and are not an indication that the attachment or parenting have failed. In fact, they are indications that the attachment is operating as it should, the child is working with the parent to regain equilibrium.

An adopted child may depend more, and for a longer time, on the help of parents. Making sense of adoption on a daily basis is a task that takes time and energy for both child and parent yet it promotes deeper, more meaningful attachment.

My seven year old is learning to read; we sit down to our twenty assigned minutes of homework. "You hate me and I won't read," my child announces. "No I don't hate you," I reassure her. She curls up in a ball, like she used to at four. "I'm a baby." she says. What sort of signal is this? I realize after several weeks of trying various parenting strategies that are "age appropriate" responses that the developmental leap of reading is causing her to reconsider her feelings about adoption. And the reading material is also stimulating questions about separation and loss. The next time we sit down to read, I ask her if the story of the elephant growing up and leaving his mother makes her think about her first parents. She gazes up at me, "I love you mom" she sighs. Now she knows that I know how she feels and our attachment wraps around us like a quilt. The oppositional reading struggles vanish.

�At seven, and probably eight and eighteen, she will sometimes need me to intuit her needs when adoption issues arise. I keep re-learning that if we can connect about her feelings in this area, shortly thereafter she will meet my age appropriate expectations.

The growth of attachment after international adoption takes attention, work, and guidance from a parent. We can rebuild attachment relationships if we are mindful that attachment is not a rigid pattern described in the latest parenting book. Attachment begins with attentiveness, and is an elastic and changing process that fosters growth for parents as well as children.

Can Attachment Problems Turn Into Reactive Attachment Disorder?

Most adopted children have some issues with attachment, which is to say they have a more complicated attachment history that adoptive parents must integrate into the parent-child relationship. These children have occasional to frequent behavior difficulties which are judged atypical as compared to age appropriate behavior of securely attached non-adopted children. A few children who have spent their entire life in an institution or bouncing from one foster home to another, enter adoption with the symptoms of reactive attachment disorder.

Many adoptive parents are worried that somehow mild to moderate attachment difficulties (atypical attachment) will suddenly become RAD. Is this true? From my experience both in observation and reading of cases, I would say there are three reasons for atypical attachment to move towards RAD.

1. Parents deny or minimize or even normalize the atypical signs and symptoms, and therefore those needs of the child remain unaddressed.

2. Parents treat the symptoms as evidence of the child's "badness" or "willfulness" etc. instead of recognizing them as signals and communications. Many of these parents are struggling with their own early history of hurtful parents and feel the child's needs and/or demands are replays of prior abuse. Some parents come to the conclusion their child is "bad" based on philosophical or religious ideas.

3. Parents expect that because their adopted child is "doing well" they can give them the amount of attention and support a non-adopted secure child would receive. Having decided their child is "adjusted", they fail to leave time and space in their lives for the work of attachment. This neglect is felt deeply by the child and incorporated into the adoption and grief and loss issues. Because children with complex histories sometimes delay asking for help, or try to be "extra good" to get attention, the negative feelings are suppressed until some trigger releases them and they overflow.

Black, White and the Cornrow In Between

Thu, 21 Jun 2007 16:19:01 GMT

It was very late and my middle daughter and I were the only ones still awake.� I rose stiffly from the sofa and muscles weary from my labors.� My daughter yawned sleepily, and I kissed her goodnight.

"Go ahead."� I said.� "We are finished.� You can go take a look."�

She smiled, shook her hair back and forth to hear the beads click and clack, and then ran off for a quick look in the mirror before bed.�We had spent most of the previous three hours on her hair.� It is an activity usually reserved for Saturdays, but daily time spent in the pool had taken its toll and a style that started out incredibly cute a few days�before had gone south very quickly.�I knew that if we were going to survive the next few swim lessons, it was time to put her hair in cornrows and beads.

I am white, and new to this skill, so unfortuantely for my girl a process that would take a long time anyway always takes even longer.� So, hours earlier after dinner was finished I�had given�her the summons.

"Come on, Baby," I called.� "It's time to do your hair."

She scurried off to find toys to entertain herself for the first stretch of taking down the old style and combing through a multitude of tangles while I gathered the tools of the trade: wide tooth comb, rat tail comb, detangler, spray bottle filled with water, and a pair of tiny scissors used to cut the elastics free.

I sat on the sofa with her in front of me in a small chair and got to work.� Soon, three of her siblings gathered there with us and began to play as we settled into one of the comfortable expressions of our family culture "doing hair", just one way this family morphed into a new entity when our girls came home from Haiti.� As a African American friend once told me, "You are now the white mother of a family of color."

Later, after I washed�my daughter's hair and began to�cornrow it, �my children passed the time by watching the BBC's DVD of Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis, leaving me time to think.��As always, I found the process of styling my black daughter's hair profoundly humbling.

It is not that I am bad at it, I am actually pretty good to be honest.� Each Sunday, I receive the highest praise possible for my efforts from the people who should know:� African American women.� Still, each time I pick up the comb and place my hands on one of my daughters' heads I feel a little nervous.

"What if I don't do a good job?� What if�my baby is�ashamed of her white mother's creation?"

Because I know hair matters.

It matters because it is such a definitive expression of the African race and all their descendants scattered by the diaspora across the globe.� It is both the pride of heritage and�so often the focal point of the pain of discrimination.� It is at once a deep heart's cry to be validated as the unique creation of God but at the same time to not be defined by any one characteristic of one's race.

It matters because as a white family, we had a choice to make when we brought our Haitian daughters home.� Would we strip them of their culture and force them into our white world, or would we lay aside our own and meet them there.� Black, white, Haitian, and American.� Descendants of the oppressed and descendants of the oppressor woven into a family.

And a white mother with a cornrow in her hand.

"I am not my hair.� I am not this skin."� India Arie

What Lies Beneath

Thu, 21 Jun 2007 16:42:41 GMT

Long ago, years before the possibility of adoption even entered my mind, I was in a local shop and as the manager assisted me with my purchase, we began to make small talk.� I was a young mother, so it did not take long for the topic to turn to children.� When I asked him if he had any children, he not only responded affirmatively but shared with me that he and his wife had struggled with infertility and eventually ended up adopting a baby girl.�

�They were white.� She was black.

�"Yeah," he said.� "Her mother is in prison and the father is nowhere to be found.� We applied to adopt and once our paper work was completed, only waited a couple of weeks before they offered us the baby."

�I was taken aback by this watershed of personal information offered to me, a complete stranger, but it was nothing compared to what he would say next.� With no hint of realization of the impropriety or destructiveness of what he was relating to me he said,

�"We just love her to death.� My wife calls the baby her little (racial slur)."

�I was stunned.

�Since that time, I have had the opportunity to receive a vast education concerning both black/ white race relations in the United States and the complexities of transracial adoption.�While this scenario I witnessed so long ago is most certainly extreme, it is also a vivid illustration of�the pitfalls of adopting transracially.

�I consider myself extraordinarily blessed that before my husband and I came anywhere near beginning our adoption journey we first became a part of a church that was begun and led by an African American man to be deliberately diverse and serious about racial reconciliation.� Honestly, when we entered the sanctuary doors, I was perfectly confident that I was racially open-minded and unbiased.� What I found as honest discussion flowed, was that I was largely blind to the deep roots of racism woven into the fabric my life, passed down from generation to generation through my family.� I have since termed it like this:� The song of racism was sung to me over the cradle.

�Since then, I have discovered that I am not alone.� The implications and daily challenges of living as a racial minority in society are lost on most of those who make up the majority, which is why it is imperative that white parents who are adopting transracially go the extra mile to gain the understanding their children will desperately need to navigate the murky racial waters ahead.

�Not too long ago, a dear African American friend of mine and I were discussing these issues and I told her I had come to a conclusion that some might find extreme.

"You know," I said.� "I believe God intended for children to be reared in families, not orphanages, but if the white families raising them do not first honestly explore their own racial attitudes and then deliberately educate themselves about racial issues, it is an injustice to the child."

�"Yes," she agreed somberly.� "Good intentions are not enough."

�So true; and love, although tremendously important, is not enough either.� If minority children are going to thrive in transracial adoptions, they need so much more from their parents.� I have found it takes more patience, humility, and hard work than I once would have thought possible,�but it is achievable.

�And it is no more than every, single child deserves.�

Handling Indiscriminant Friendliness

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:31:30 GMT

For months my newly adopted daughter, Mei-Mei, had been shouting "Hello" loudly enough to embarrass me as we entered any restaurant, store, or even walking down the street. She insisted on greeting everyone effusively as though she had known him or her a long time and hadn't seen them in years. Likewise, when we were leaving an establishment, or ceased chatting with a neighbor, the good-bye's were loud and unending, as though she expected never to see these people again.

I tried to stop her. "Don't say, 'Hello' to strangers," I told her. She looked at me blankly and ignored every word. For the first several months I was often running after her snatching her back from climbing into some kindly stranger's lap. It was the same when she said, "goodbye".

Eventually I realized how stupid I must sound; to Mei-Mei everyone was a stranger, even her own newly adopting family. So if she said "Hello" to us, kissed us and sat in our laps, why not with everyone else? Once I realized that everyone was a stranger even Mommy, I tried to explain the concepts of "stranger", "friend", and "family". Although Mei-Mei was still F.O.B. so to speak, she was following English well and had the intellect of any bright three-year-old. Mommy, Daddy, big sister, the dogs are family," I told her. Mei-Mei would nod wisely. "We have more family : like Nana and Grandma. With family you can say hello and goodbye, kiss them and sit in their laps, if you want to. "

I found it easier to define these categories of people on the basis of acceptable behavior towards them, rather than on how long we'd known them or how close we felt with them. Specific actions were concrete and easy to pantomime; lengths of time and types of relationships or feelings were too vague for a three-year-old with three or four months of English experience.

"Then we have friends: Emily and Rowan. We say hello and goodbye, but we don't kiss, we shake hands. Sometimes Mommy has a friend that you don't know. That person isn't your friend yet. You can say hello, and goodbye, but you don't kiss them or sit in their lap until you get acquainted."

Strangers were harder still. "A stranger is someone Mommy doesn't know. We don't know a stranger's name, or where she lives. So if we say "Hello' it's once and maybe you could shake hands if Mommy says it's O.K." But how do I explain the checker at the market, Peggy, with whom I chat so cozily ? Is she a stranger?

I didn't and still don't know the answer to these questions. This is a confusing area to children coming from an orphanage setting. Relationships are a mystery. There is no previous experience with which to match them. Even the relationship of Mommy, Daddy, siblings, grandparents are unfamiliar and therefore confusing.

When I first introduced Mei-Mei to her maternal grandmother I explained that this was "my mommy" and Mei-Mei became terrified. She would have nothing to do with her grandma until I realized her fear must have something to do with what "mommy" meant to her. "Mommy" was defined, I suspected, as " the new person who took you away from where ever you'd been before". Given this understanding, it was no wonder she was terrified: she feared being given to a "new mommy", this old smiling round-eyed, white-skinned lady who looked nothing like the older Chinese women Mei-Mei might have seen. With this realization I reassured her that, "I am your mommy and you will stay with me. This is Grandma. We are saying Hello and then Mei-Mei and mommy will go home together." My daughter relaxed visibly as she absorbed this information. At last I knew the right words to use to calm her ever-present fears of being passed from one adult to another without end.� �Patty Cogen

My Daughter the Banana

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:36:39 GMT

There are long days when I finally glimpse myself in the mirror and am shocked at what I see. It's not the gray of my hair and wondering if I'm too old to be the mother of a toddler that alarms me. It's not how tired I look; I know this too shall pass. Rather, I'm shocked because I look "white", I look Caucasian. I expect to see an Asian face look back at me.

I spend most of every day face to face, in close proximity with my daughter. She is Chinese by birth and American by adoption. After focusing upon her for hours at a time, my internal world is permeated with her black almond shaped eyes, her glossy fine black hair, her warm-toned skin and her broad dimpled face. When I look in the mirror my internal self is still seeing in Chinese. My eyes grow wide at the disparity between what I expect and what I see.

I thought when this happened it would wear off in a few days. I asked a "white" friend who adopted a Chinese daughter three years earlier if it happened to her. "Yes," she replied, "and it never wears off."

I puzzled over this. Why were two grown women with good self-esteem having trouble keeping a firm hold on our self-images? My next thought was, if we adults are having this happen, what is happening to our daughters? The most pervasive image in their daily lives is our faces, our pale, high and narrow nosed, blue eyed, red or brown-haired visages. What then do they expect when they look in the mirror? To see a "white girl" I suppose.

Whenever I look at my family I see the diversity we present: three Caucasians and an Asian. However, when my Asian-American daughter looks at her family, she sees only Caucasians. What does this mean for us and for her? My sense is that we are overly aware of our diversity whereas she is less than fully aware. In our politically correct community and circle of friends there are no negative remarks. But there are no positive remarks made either, perhaps because people don't know what to say. What would I like them to say that would give all of us a good sense of who we are without being corny ? I wish I knew.

Since coming to America at four years of age my daughter has gravitated towards Asian people, or any dark-haired person. If there are three Asian women dining in a restaurant, she has to go and say hello. If there is an Asian child in the park she wants to play near by.

Reading the book, We're Different, We're the Same, my daughter often picked Caucasian features as those most like hers. Sometimes she seemed confused about what her features looked like. She was more certain about picking what I looked like. Could it be that in the year she's been in our family, she is loosing the image of her own face?

I try to have us look in the mirror together when we brush our teeth or comb our hair. I try to take time to focus and comment on our looks, and how they are different and how they are the same. I decide to share my experience with my daughter, to let her know we both are struggling with this issue. This is an opportunity to talk about what makes skin lighter or darker, how birthparents contribute to and shape how we look.

My daughter is obsessed with making us the same regardless of our different racial origins. First it was a barrette thing. I bought a bunch of barrettes for her and she had her own ideas about their use. Everyone in the family, including both dogs, had to wear them. For weeks the entire family (including Dad) went around the house with a selection of colored plastic in our hair (or fur).

When we went out I would forget to remove mine and people would comment, "Oh, look, you match!" I found myself delighted that finally people acknowledged we were a mother/daughter duo. Who else would wear matching barrettes? My daughter loved being seen as belonging to me. For both of us it became a wonderful way to forestall the strangers' inevitable question, "Is she your daughter?" and the unspoken implication that if we didn't match racially, we couldn't be related.

Now the matching takes other, more conscious forms: we both wear sun-glasses, we both wear a red shirt and blue pants; we both have eggs for breakfast, we both have a bandaged "hurt" on our left thumb. I am thrilled we have found ways to be the same and yet different.

There's a non-matching piece as well. My daughter insists on wearing mismatched socks. Is this a comment on how two things that don't appear to go together actually can do quite well? I like to think so. The other day she stared at an African-American man and a blond woman strolling together. We talked about how they were "different" and the "same", just like we were. The concept of race is not one easily explained to young child, so I just leave it in simple, concrete terms: pale skin/darker skin; big and little noses; round eyes/almond shaped eyes; straight black hair/kinky hair/ brown wavy hair etc.

My daughter spent four years seeing herself reflected in Chinese faces and bodies. Somewhere inside she has a picture of herself through the mirror of these other people. But that image has been occluded in less than a year by her new family, her new environment. Consequently I considered it vital to find a school which had a diversity of teachers, and families; a school that was proactive in helping children identify and appreciate their own and others similarities and differences. I was fortunate to find such a school and in less than a year my daughter's drawings and self-descriptions became both accurate and confident.

One of my Chinese friends laughed when I told her about my mirror experience. "Your daughter is going to be a banana, " she said.

"What do you mean, 'banana'?" I asked, slightly offended and totally puzzled.

"You know, a person who's yellow on the outside and white inside is a 'banana'" she explained. "You are an inside out banana!" and she went off into gales of laughter. I realized she was right, recently I had felt I was "passing" for Caucasian.

"Yeah, I get it, " I said, chagrined, "It's an Asian 'Oreo'".

My friend stopped laughing. "What's an 'Oreo'?"

� Patty Cogen

Seeing Things Differently

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:39:31 GMT

Children raised in families have an assortment of non-verbal behaviors to cue their parents to their needs and feelings.Out of this communication arises "family skills" for getting needs met. Children who have no maternal caregiver develop a different set of cues, and a different set of skills, survival skills. Sometimes these children show a lack of cues, or their skills may rely on coercive, aggressive or manipulative behaviors to get what they want. A few cues may be unique to the child$s country/culture of origin.

The list below compares the behavior of internationally adopted children to the behavior of children raised in a middle class anglo home environment from birth.

Internationally Adopted Child		Birth Child
Eats anything and possibly everything		Picky about food and often eats very little after about 6-8 months of age.
Never whines or fusses. Parents describe their child as "too good to be true" or "the perfect child"		Whines and fusses when tired or needy, when parent is distracted or on the phone.
Goes to sleep alone in a dark room and doesnt make a peep allnight. Waits in bed in the morning until parent retrieves child.		Doesn't want to go to sleep, especially alone. Wakes in night and calls for parent. Gets out of bed or calls for parent in a.m.
Does not expect or ask verbally or non-verbally for help or to have needs met, even when frustrated. An older, verbal child may express need in an overly adult fashion ex. "We have a problem here..."		Expects and demands help frequently and usually vocally.
Is exceptionally persistent and never shows frustration with task.		Becomes frustrated several times a day and lets parent know.
Has minimal or no facial/body expressions beyond a serious gaze or is "happy all the time". Child is either completely controlled or falls apart, often without any gradual shift.		Child has a variety of moods and feelings conveyed by a range of facial and body expressions including sad, mad, puzzled, tired, thrilled, irritable. throughout the day even if generally even tempered.
Cries or vocalizations all sound the same regardless of need.		Has different cries or sounds for different needs.
Child doesn't appear to notice or feel temperature changes. Never cold: no goosebumps or shivering.		Child shows signs of cold and notices temperature changes.
Child ignores wet and/or dirty clothing or diapers.		Child shows signs of disliking dirty or wet clothing/diapers and often alerts parent to fact after 8 mo.- 1yr.
Appears unaffected by transitions or changes in routine or major moves from one location to another. May have a delayed reaction hours or days or after event. Or, is unable to handle transitions including small changes without "falling apart" i.e tantrums, withdrawing, becoming clinging etc.		Reacts to changes of routine with protest after 6 months of age, and to larger changes with clingyness and sleep disruptions.
Child (10 months or more) shows no concern when parent leaves the room.		Child cries, fusses, watches parent, and may follow parent who leaves the room after age 6 mo.
Child plays alone without checking back with parent or expecting attention, often for long periods of time.		Child plays briefly alone after walking is established, but checks in frequently and runs out of "parent juice" within 10 - 30 minutes.
Child uncomfortable with dependent relationship, rejects parent's help and takes care of self in ways that indicate child doesn't expect to be cared for by adult, i.e. refusing to let parent hold bottle for child, ignores parent when being changed or dressed.		Child enjoys and is comfortable with dependence on parents and shares caretaking tasks i.e. holding bottle together, makes eye contact when being changed.
Child uncomfortable and may avoid with physical closeness especially with parent and/or seeks closeness indiscriminantly with other adults.		Child enjoys, seeks, and prefers physical closeness with parent.

Tips to Encourage Attachment

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:43:01 GMT

For any of the areas below, consider your child's "family age", the number of weeks and months your child has been a member of your family, rather than chronological age as a guide to "appropriate behavior and expectations".

Feeding: Anticipate your child's hunger. Encourage your child to make eye contact with you as she eats. Hold child on your lap while you feed him or her or while child feeds herself. Help child to recognize feeling empty and full. Make eating a time of physical and emotional intimacy.

Sleeping: Have child sleep in your room; a separate bed is fine. Tell child you are always available, and respond even to small sounds or cries in the night to develop your child to trust you at night as well as during the day. Stay near your child as he/she falls asleep. Remember, your child is only a few weeks or months old in "family time"; you wouldn't expect a two month old baby to put himself fall asleep alone.

Bathing: Bathe with your child and engage him/her in water play and body exploration. Skin to skin contact as well as eye contact are critical to building attachment.

Toileting: Help your child relate to you with eye contact and vocalizations when you change a diaper. Help your child learn to tell you when he/she is wet or dirty. If your child was toilet trained prior to adoption, expect accidents and perhaps a return to diapers. Remember to teach about and help your child to use our style of toilets.

Dressing: Dress or help dress your child, using this as an opportunity to have safe, contained physical contact, to teach vocabulary of body parts, and to comment on similarities (claiming): "Look we both have fingers on our hands!" or " You have brown hair and I have black hair: we both have hair!"

Injury: Respond, regardless of whether your child does, to any hurt or bump no matter how small. This is the way to teach your child to expect care when hurt, emotionally or physically. Model or encourage crying when it's appropriate, not stoicism, even in older children.

Emotions: Name and model all sorts of feelings. Use exaggerated facial expression and body language, and give words, phrases and dialogue for how to react emotionally. A basic beginning repertoire includes: happy, sad, confused, mad, and tired. Additions include: thrilled, furious, and frustrated.

Playing: Play with your child. Don't expect your child to know anything about toys or objects that are most familiar to you. Teach your child how to play.Minimize frustration; begin with toys that are for babies and toddlers.

Verbally: Describe what you and your child are doing to develop both vocabulary and your child's understanding of "how and why the world works". Include frequent references to how it might have been done one way in the orphanage (you sat in a chair and were fed quickly because lots of other kids were waiting) but in a family it's done a different way (you sit in my lap and I feed you slowly).

Picking up/Carrying: Remember "Family Time" when you debate whether to pick your child up. Most infants are carried without question until they can walk well, around 15-20 months. So give your self a good year of carrying. Get a backpack or front pack to help when you're doing chores. This close physical contact is critical to attachment and to bonding.

Socializing: Don't let your child go to other adults indiscriminately. Develop your child's sense of appropriate intimacy and expectation of care from just parents. Only parents should hold their child for the first month, and after that only extended family, if the child is comfortable. Define the following levels of intimacy : parents, family, friends, acquaintances, and strangers.

Frustration tolerance: Help your child develop ways to express frustration by demonstrating facial expression, physical and verbal ways to ask for help. Recognize when your child should be frustrated and coach your child to ask for assistance at that time. Emphasize the pleasure of getting (and giving) help.

Getting attention: Help your child learn to ask for attention. Demonstrate physical and verbal ways of asking for attention. Note when your child lets you "ignore" him or her for too long (phone calls, conversations with friends), catch yourself and explain to your child they have the right to ask for your attention, even when you are busy. Encourage child to do this.

Sharing: Children from orphanage settings sometimes share because they don't thing anything is really theirs. Help your child learn that certain things, including parents, belong to them and can not be taken away. Expect a short period of sharing, then a long period of possessiveness and eventually a genuine ability to share.

Sibling and Family Rivalry: Adopted children are often more jealous of sibs and parents or even parents showing affection to each other.

Regression: Expect it, even encourage it. This is your child's chance to be a baby with you.

Attunement/ Mirroring: Attunement is mirroring the emotional tone of your child. This and mirroring behavior and vocalizations helps build a child's sense of self and attachment. � Patty Cogen

International Adoption: Risks & Realities

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 19:11:09 GMT

There are numerous reasons why parents choose International adoption, but each case usually has a unique story attached to it. Some people have an affinity for a certain culture, some for humanitarian reasons, and some because they believe the risks are less than those for domestic adoption. Whatever the reason, any family considering international adoption must be well informed and accepting of the risks and realities of adopting internationally.

Lack of Information:

The information that is received on any child is typically minimal. The referral information will most likely include little to nothing about the birthmother. The child may have a genetic predisposition for medical or psychiatric illness which will not be known as family histories are not provided. A history of alcohol/drug abuse is not often known. Whether or not pre-natal care was obtained is typically unknown. Complete orphanage records are not sent. Sometimes diagnosis are made and test are performed that do not make any type of medical sense. When parents are lucky, a medical report may be available providing information as growth parameters, past medial history of what occurred in the orphanage and many times a video and pictures. While all children from International adoption are considered to be at minimal risk, this information when taken to a Pediatrician can help to uncover other more significant problems that are not visualized by the referral source.

Medical Uncertainties:

The countries where children are primarily adopted from usually have inferior medical technology and limited diagnostic capabilities. Although most of the children have some form of medical care, the standards of medical care for the children may not be the same as that for the general population.

Until recently, many infectious diseases were relatively rarely seen in the the United States, but they are a way of life in many countries. Children may be tested for certain diseases and be negative at the time the test was taken. However, that does not ensure the test was accurate or that the child has not subsequently become exposed to the disease. Viruses and infections can sweep through an orphanage. Children who have had frequent colds and ear-infections (not always known) may have built an immunity to some medications and some may have some hearing loss.

Orphanages do not provide children with well-balanced diets so the children tend to be small in stature and underweight which can have immediate and/or long-term medical implications.

The lack of well-balanced diets can lead to vitamin deficiencies or other associated conditions. Due to the lack of physical and intellectual stimulation, the children are generally developmentally delayed with poor muscle tone which may or may not mask a medical or neurological condition.

Environmental Conditions:

Uncontrolled water-air-soil pollutants, lead paint and industrial use of lead are some of the environmental hazards faced in some countries. Alcohol abuse and cigarette-smoking are socially acceptable behaviors in many countries, even during pregnancy.

Children With Special Needs:

The definition of "special needs" has come to mean children with physical disabilities or medical conditions, however, it is often not so simple.

The lack of a medical and social history, available medical care, living conditions, environmental conditions, disease, and incomplete and/or inaccurate referral information leave so many unknowns that we can not say any child is healthy.�

Although International Physicians may be capable at diagnosing visible medical conditions, there is little to no awareness of psychological problems. The emotional and physical impact of the living conditions may lead to long-term difficulties. The younger the child, the more unknowns there are as the child has not reached many of the physical and developmental levels necessary for more complete assessments.�

Many children are described as "healthy" by the referral sources or foreign government, but this needs to be taken in the context of the above conditions and the unknowns should be considered carefully.��

Other Risks and Realities of IA:

No-one can predict the future of any adoption program in any particular� country. Referrals of children should be considered tentative until the adoption has been finalized and the child is home. Countries may unexpectedly close, laws and requirements may suddenly change causing delays or moratrarium on all adoptions. (like what occurred in Romania). Other reasons, such as birthparents changing their minds, referrals lost to in-country adoption, or children may become seriously ill, could result in the child no longer being available for adoption.

If all of the risks of IA were to become realities, no-one would choose to adopt internationally; however, many times� the risks do not always become realities and there are many families who have adopted healthy, happy,� flourishing children who are thriving under the loving care of their new parents.

The Transracial Adoptees Bill of Rights

Thu, 05 Jul 2007 19:35:00 GMT

Adapted by Liza Steinberg Triggs from "A Bill of Rights for Mixed Folks," by Marilyn Dram�

� Every child is entitled to love and full membership in her family.

� Every child is entitled to have his culture embraced and valued.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that this is a race conscious society.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that she will experience life differently than they do.

� Every child is entitled to parents who are not looking to "save" him or to improve the world.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that being in a family doesn't depend on "matching."

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that transracial adoption changes the family forever.

� Every child is entitled to be accepted by extended family members.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that, if they are white, they benefit from racism.

� Every child is entitled to parents who know that they can't transmit the child's birth culture if it is not their own.

� Every child is entitled to have items at home that are made for and by people of his race.

� Every child is entitled to opportunities to make friends with people of her race or ethnicity.

� Every child is entitled to daily opportunities of positive experiences with his birth culture.

� Every child is entitled to build racial pride within her own home, school, and neighborhood.

� Every child is entitled to have many opportunities to connect with adults of the child's race.

� Every child is entitled to parents who accept, understand and empathize with her culture.

� Every child is entitled to learn survival, problem-solving, and coping skills in a context of racial pride.

� Every child is entitled to take pride in the development of a dual identity and a multicultural/multiracial perspective on life.

� Every child is entitled to find his multiculturalism to be an asset and to conclude, "I've got the best of both worlds."

This article is published with permission from Pact Press.Pact, An Adoption Alliance,4179 Piedmont Avenue, Suite 330, Oakland, CA 94611Website :www.pactadopt.org Email :info@pactadopt.org

�

A Real Mom Shares The Title

Sat, 07 Jul 2007 15:42:11 GMT

A Real Mom shares the title. I am a Real Mom. I parent my child, who was adopted by me and my husband at 4 months old from an orphanage in Ha Tinh, Vietnam. We know a little bit about his birth/first mother, the woman who gave birth to him, through a letter that she left with the orphanage officials when she took him to that orphanage when he was two days old. Just a little bit.

It's true that since he was 4 months old, I've done the daily work of motherhood. When he was a baby, I fed him, bathed him, diapered him, and kept him safe. I've watched him grow from baby to toddler, from toddler to preschooler, and he'll be going into kindergarten in August. He's a beautiful boy, full of curiosity and wonder, energy and laughter. Every day since he's come into my arms, I've done the exhausting and rewarding work of motherhood. I don't think many would deny that yes, I am a Real Mom.

There are some, though, who would balk at calling his first mother a Real Mom. Truthfully, I used to be one of those. But I've changed, and my mind and heart have opened a great deal since we first adopted Nate. I've come to see this woman, this faceless, mostly unknown woman who we sadly don't have any photos of, who Nate calls his Tummy Mummy (a name that some take issue with, but that works at this point for him), this cherished woman who bore this amazing boy, as his other Real Mom. She shares the title with me. She carried him for nine months, after all. They bonded during those nine months. And she made what I'm sure was a heart-wrenching decision, based on what she said in the letter, and also more on what she didn't say in that letter (the contents of which I don't share out of respect to my son; it's his story, after all).

I'm not a first mother so I don't speak from personal experience, but I think that I can safely say that a piece of her heart, a piece of her soul, left when she walked away from that orphanage without her son. And that that piece of her heart, that piece of her soul, will never quite heal, will never be "replaced." Half-way across the world, I imagine her thinking of him every day, carrying him in her every breath, crying for him when no one else can hear her. I've read stories and blogs of enough first mothers that I know that their pain doesn't end when they relinquish their children; it is then that the pain just begins. Their pain does not diminish with time; in all actuality, the pain increases with time. They learn how to live with the pain, but they don't actually "move on" from it. They are mothers to the children they give birth to, even if they don't parent them. They carry them, they give birth to them, and they love them unconditionally. If that's not the definition of a mother, I don't know what is.

I'm a Real Mom to my son. So is my son's first mother. In this case, my son has two Real Moms. One he knows on a daily basis. One he knows in his heart; his awareness of that grows and changes. One he calls Mom and understands what that means. One he calls his Tummy Mummy and has a pretty good understanding of what that means, at five years old, but not a sophisticated understanding. One he sees every day. One he hasn't seen since he was two days old, but we hope to be able to see her some day.

Two Real Moms. I'm not at all threatened by sharing the title. I am, in fact, honored. I just hope and pray that I can tell her someday, that I can look her in the eyes and tell her how we share a son, how we consider her his other Real Mom. In fact, she's his first Real Mom. And mostly, I hope and pray that he can tell her how he thinks of her that way too.

For me, a Real Mom shares the title. And a son benefits from all of that love.

We'll Bring Him To You

Sat, 07 Jul 2007 16:03:34 GMT

As Nate's mother, I think about his relinquishment, what brought his first mother to the circumstances, the probable desperation to bring Nate to the orphanage in Ha Tinh, Vietnam. And I think about her, wonder about her. Relinquish. I'm never quite sure which word or phrase is the best one to use. I don't like give up/gave up. There's placed. Made an adoption plan makes more sense when the first mother/parents are actually choosing the adoptive parents which isn't typically the case in international adoption and wasn't the case in ours. I feel most comfortable with relinquish; it seems to describe what happened with Nate and I hope does so without judgment. That's my intention anyways.

Back to the matter at hand. We are very lucky to have a copy of a letter (it's actually probably part of an official document, but as it's hand-written, I seem to consider it a "letter") from Nate's first mother to the orphanage officials. This is much more than many Vietnamese adoptees have because many of them are "abandoned," for lack of a better word, and taken to an orphanage. The abandonments often happen in very public places so that the babies can be found and cared for; this is why I really don't like the word abandoned. Again, words are inadequate. The abandonments aren't like the abandonments that we hear about here in the United States, with babies found in trash cans or dumpsters.

Anyways, so we have a letter. The contents of the letter are for us as a family. They're nothing shameful or mysterious. They're simply something for us to share with Nate when he's old enough to process the contents of the letter. Luckily, the letter also includes his first mother's name so that if and when he wants to search for her, that search may be a fruitful one. Or if and when we decide to search. It's a complicated issue that I may address in another article or in another way, but suffice it to say that I'm now part of Yahoo's Birthparent Contact group and am mulling things over. We need to consult with some people about how to best go about that search if we undertake it. I don't know how difficult that might be in Vietnam or what any consequences for her might be.

Out of the realm of the personal, though: I believe - and some research has backed this up - that the stigma of unwed motherhood is the main reason that many women relinquish children in Vietnam. In doing some research and trying to understand Vietnamese culture, I came across this article, Single Motherhood is Legalized In Vietnam, dated June 20, 2000. Part of the article says:

Unwed mothers in Vietnam will no longer have to hide their faces in public because single motherhood has finally been legalized in the country, a newspaper reported Friday . . . . So far, children born to an unmarried couple were discriminated against, for instance, when applying for social welfare benefits.

So, with single motherhood being such a huge stigma (much more than it is here in the U.S.), I think that starts to explain just how ostracized unwed mothers and their children were in Vietnam. The law just passed in 2000. I imagine it will take a number of years for people's attitudes and societal mores to catch up with the law.

OK, back to the realm of the personal: I am glad that we have a copy of the letter from Nate's first mother. It's something tangible for Nate. It's actually quite a treasure for a parent to be able to give something like this to a Vietnamese adoptee since, like I said, most adoptees from Vietnam are "abandoned" and therefore have no information about their beginnings. But it still makes me unspeakably sad:

~ for Nate - for what he's lost, what feelings this might conjure up in him in the future.
~ for his first mother - for the aloneness that she must have felt, for the lack of choice she must have felt (for many reasons), for her tremendous loss.
~ and yes, for Frank and I - for we can help Nate with his sadness with his loss and help him process this in the future and work through the issues with it (and we want to help him work through the issues that come up with this), but we can't really completely heal this loss.

The extent to which he will feel grief and sadness for this loss is an unknown; the only thing I know is that it doesn't take away from his love for or bond with his father and I at all. And we are the ones who will want to help him through it, as well as whoever else he wants to and trusts to take on this journey with him.
___________________________

I can't seem to formulate everything I want to say with this. The words don't come. It all seems to be in my heart, but doesn't seem to get from heart to computer screen. It's . . . maybe just not possible.

It's frustrating. Too many emotions, too much I want to do for Nate, too much I wish I could do for or say to his first mother and can't. Across the miles. Across too many falsely imposed boundaries. We share a son. I wish I could say to her, "I know you love him, I know you did the best that you knew how for him. If you want us to and if he wants us to, we'll try to find you. We'll try to find you so we can bring him to you someday."

We'll bring him to you.

A Gift Only Adoptees Can Give

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 13:53:51 GMT

It's a gift adoptive parents can't give, birth parents can't give, or adoption professionals can't give. Only other adoptees can give it to one another.

I'll never forget sitting next to an adoptive mom at an adoption carnival where I was speaking. At the end of the day the time came for the children and teens to come on stage and show the parents an adoption art project they had been working on.

When all the kids were in place one of the therapists yelled, "Who's adopted here?"
Everyone's hands flew up and squeals of delight burst forth from the little ones.

"Me!" they yelled in unison.

The mom leaned over and said, "I've never seen that expression on my daughter's face. Look at her! When she said 'me,' her face absolutely glowed!"

Something unique happened to her daughter that day. What was it? Was it the excitement of being with kids the same age? Was it a sense of pride about her artwork or love of the spotlight?

I don't believe so. I believe it was because she had been given a gift that was brand new to her-the gift of fellow adoptee friendships!

The psychological drive that makes this gift so special is that it involves our basic need for connection. Drs. Brodzinsky and Schechter, adoption specialists with 30 years of combined experience, say that connection to an adoptee is like food to a starving man.

But connection to what or whom?

As an adoptee, I would guess it involves something to do with our lost heritage.
For those adopted at infancy or a young age, any connection to our heritage helps satisfy that need. Original birth certificates. A name or photo of our parents. An adoption story that included our birth parents. A reunion with our birth parents.

If we were foster kids and adopted at an older age because of troubled parents, that need for connection may manifest in an unexplainable loyalty based on vestiges of fantasy of what life might have been like had we had nurturing parents and remained in their home.

Many times this connection with our birth families is not an option. International adoptions often make it impossible. Sealed records keep vital information irretrievable.
Nonetheless, our friendships with one another are downright amazing!

The Amazing Gift

By being in the presence of fellow adoptees, we discover:

. We Are Like Family. Linda says that knowing adoptees has created a wonderful bond because there is a kind of "sisterhood" and "brotherhood" amongst us that has filled some of the void of not knowing her heritage.
. We Are Drawn to One Another. Gary said that his young daughter seemed to gravitate to other adoptees in her preschool class. Of course she didn't know they were adoptees, but there was that pull.
. We Have a Unique Emotional Language. Sherry says that adoptees can "read" each other from just a few words or their body language, which she says makes adoptees feel like they belong to each other.
. We are like Triple-Chocolate Cake. I never had an adoptee friend until I was forty-five. Her name is Jody Moreen. We spent hours in our favorite little tea room sipping spiced tea and "talking adoption." Life doesn't get much better than that!

Looking back, I can say that not having a fellow adoptee for a friend was like going through life and having missed triple-chocolate cake!

If your adopted child doesn't have fellow adoptee friends, start searching!

� Sherrie Eldridge, 2007. Based on Sherrie's second book, Twenty Life-Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make (Pinon Press, 2003)

The Love Language of an Adoptee

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 14:20:46 GMT

Imagine yourself facing a huge blackboard and running your fingernails over it, from end to end! It's enough to make one cringe just thinking about the possibility.

There is an emotional reaction within many adoptees, comparable to that finger-over-the-blackboard, sensation. To clinicians, it's called cognitive dissonance but to lay people, it's mixed feelings. A good example would be feeling happy and sad at the same time. For moms describing it to your kids, you could call it "double-dip feelings."

Adoptees experience mixed feelings when good-intentioned people make certain statements about adoption. Whenever I speak with parents on this topic, I share the following chart of six well-intentioned statements, how the adoptee often hears them, and then how to translate the intentions into the love language of the adoptee. This is adapted from my second Twenty Life-Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make.

There is one requirement before you read these statements. You must not let yourself feel guilty! We have all said these things at one time or another.

Communicator's Intent	Well-Intentioned Statement	Adoptee Translation	LOVE Language
Child will not feel rejected; cast good light on birth mother	Your birth mother loved you SO much that she gave you to us!	"Love is what got rid of me."	Your birth parents weren't able to parent ANY baby/ANOTHER baby at that time.
Create a sense of being wanted	You are a chosen child!	"I might have been "chosen," but first I was given away."	You have 2 sets of parents, one who gave you birth and another that gave you home and love. We are so glad that we got you!
Adoption is a blessing	Accentuate the Positive! (Count your blessings..count them one by one.)	Only say nice things about adoption or mommy and daddy will get upset.	Everything in life is happy and sad. The same is true for adoption. It's okay for you to feel sad and happy and to talk to us about ALL your feelings.
Describe parentage; ignorance	Illegitimate	I am a mistake.	God made you and He doesn't make mistakes!
Create self-esteem	You are special!	It's not okay just to be me. I have to try hard and do good so they'll like me.	We love you and always will, just as you are!
Create sense of belonging, inclusion	We love you JUST LIKE our own!	Why are you trying to make me like you? I'm not!	We love the unique things you add to your family!

Speaker and author, Sherrie Eldridge, an adoptee herself, is passionate about assuring those touched by adoption that they can grow because of the unique challenges adoptive family living presents. She is the author of the highly-acclaimed books Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew and Twenty Life-Transforming Choices Adoptees Need to Make and FOREVER FINGERPRINTS...An Amazing Discovery for Adopted Children (EMK Press). As President of Jewel Among Jewels Adoption Network, Inc., a non-profit adoption educational organization, she offers extensive online resources, including inspiration, encouragement, projects for parents and kids, newsletters, and free workbooks (www.adoptionjewels.org). For speaking, www.SherrieEldridge.com.