My Childless-Not-By-Choice Response on the Adoption Panel

At the panel for Adoption Unfiltered, I spoke about the importance of including pronatalism and NOT adopting in the book that is, actually, about adoption, which I did not "succeed" at. 

Here is what I wrote that is basically what I said in my allotted minutes: 

Q: Did it surprise you to be asked to contribute your thoughts to an adoption book? Why do you think your viewpoint, and a conversation about pronatalism (Ch 19) – living in a culture that values parents over nonparents – is important in unfiltering adoption?

I am thrilled to be included in the conversation. There is so much out there about adoption success, but so little about walking away. We decided to pursue adoption after years of failed infertility treatments, because it was presented as the next logical step. Also, the thought of NOT being a parent made me want to throw up.

The agency we worked with was endlessly positive, and frequently said “adoption is not if, but when” and “the waiting is the hardest part.” I was not shocked at how many prospective adoptive parents are waiting versus how many babies are “available.” [that number is roughly 1 "available" baby to 55 prospective adoptive parents] We felt that acutely as we waited, and waited; were finally considered, and then were passed over again and again. 

The agency’s response to our longer wait was uncomfortable. We were asked to consider private adoption, which we did and swiftly rejected. It would make me the first contact for women in crisis, which I am NOT qualified for (and I was not willing to leave my full-time job as a special education teacher while we waited). Wasn’t that a conflict of interest, since I had “skin in the game?” We were told the private track increases exposure but not necessarily success rates. In the training we were advised to advertise in laundromats and check-cashing places where women in financial crisis frequent. We didn’t feel comfortable with situations where the only thing standing between a woman parenting her baby and us adopting was access to money and services. It felt predatory. 

Then, we were encouraged to update and open our “grid,” a comprehensive list of situations, race, legal, and medical info. It makes you feel downright fascist putting down what you can and can’t handle as a parent, but it also encourages an honest look at limitations and supports. The grid is not taken lightly, and our decisions were made after a great deal of painful consideration. To open it beyond our comfort level for the express purpose of being considered more often felt…wrong. 

Acquaintances even suggested we lie and include a picture of us in front of a church to appear religious, which might up our chances. If our desire for a baby was the number one factor, if we were willing to become parents at any cost, none of these things would have been a barrier. It seemed the fastest way for us to become parents was to lose ourselves in an unethical swamp.

In that last year before a stress-fueled medical crisis led us to walk away, I had begun reading the adoptee perspective, through the “Flip the Script” publications. While others wondered why I wanted to read unnecessarily sad and angry stories, I found them absolutely necessary. How could I look at adoption as simply the means to the end of having a long-awaited baby, when clearly there are so many long-term ramifications for all involved, especially the adoptee who had no choice?  

After reading Adoption Unfiltered, I hope that agencies and prospective adoptive parents will truly listen to all of the perspectives put forth and make change, for the sake of everyone involved. 

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And that's it. Well, not really. That is the part of our experiences with adoption that I could speak to at that point. Unfortunately I have so many more examples of squishy ethics. Bryce and I joked (in a gallows-humor type of joking) that the harder it is for you to have a baby, the more ethical conundrums you come up against. Then you get into donor egg, donor sperm, embryo adoption (as "placers"), none of it working for anyone, and swiftly moving into adoption as just another way to have a baby as if it is an extension of the fertility treatment process. 

I do worry that my perspective could be looked at by some as "sour grapes," that it's easy for me to to be critical of the system when I didn't end up parenting, that I'm just bitter and grouchy. But that's not at all true. I recognize that it probably wasn't a great idea to have my final canceled cycle and less than a month later have all the initial paperwork filled out with an agency. To jump from one process to another, honestly, because I wanted to parent a baby. I wanted a baby in my arms. I wanted to be a mom. Was my fertility grief even a tiny bit resolved? Resounding NO, even though I liked to think that I had "switched gears." I think as much as I wanted to be a "good" adoptive parent, to throw myself into the process, I also didn't want to think as much about the people who lost out as I "won," the birthmother/father and the adoptee, who would have to be separated to make my family. When finding out more about why babies are surrendered, it felt increasingly icky. When finding out that adoption was an answer more than services for women and families in crisis... that I was basically saying I would be a "better" mom because I had money and resources and I desperately wanted a baby... it got harder to agree. Listening to adoptee perspectives was eye-opening. Birthmother perspectives, too -- I read God and Jetfire by Amy Seek, who placed her son for adoption and flayed those raw nerves wide open in telling the story of the decision making process, the birth parent side of looking at profiles, and the difficulties of navigating open adoption. It is so honest, and it made me intensely uncomfortable at times, which is good. It's good to be uncomfortable because it means that you are opening yourself to new perspectives. It challenged my idea of what it looked like to be a birthmother, what it meant, and all the emotional conflicts inherent in the experience. 

I think listening to a wide variety of experiences, truly listening not just to respond and try to confirm what you want to believe, but to open your mind to stories that don't match the sanitized, one-sided portrayals of adoption in the media -- that is necessary work. Adoption Unfiltered does a great job of providing not just the perspectives of Sara, Kelsey, and Lori, but all of the contributor voices -- and they don't all mesh neatly together. 

I am sad that we didn't get to parent. I would like to think I'd be a kickass mom, and Bryce would be a kickass dad. But I'm also glad that we resolved as we did, and we didn't compromise our integrity to become parents. I'm glad we didn't agree to things we weren't comfortable with or weren't both on board for, for us but also for our hypothetical adopted child and their first family. It was so hard to walk away from adoption as a neatly packaged solution to our childlessness, but that isn't the reality. I am grateful for the decisions that we made, and the life that we live now, even with the losses that led us here.