Tags: adoption openadoption birthfathers "open adoption", open adoption, Posy
I hesitate to tell this story and put it out there, and yet I feel sort of obligated to do so. Obligated to whom, I’m not sure – the handful of people who read this blog? That’s awfully self-important of me, isn’t it. But I feel like I need to tell this story. And so I’ve struggled to find the right words, vague enough to protect Posy and K. and B. and yet honest enough to be truthful to my own experience of those awful months when we weren’t sure Posy would be our child after all.
A day or two after we left the hospital with Posy, while we were still waiting for ICPC clearance, someone claiming to be Posy’s father called the hospital. After a lot of confusion and back and forth, K. admitted that B. was someone she had had a relationship with, and that it was possible he was the father. A month or so, and one paternity test later, we learned that B. was indeed the father – and that our “this is as good as it gets” adoption scenario was turning into a nightmare of a contested adoption.
Later, we learned they had in fact talked about the baby, and what to do about her – and while he was always adamant that he didn’t want K. to place her for adoption, he also didn’t step forward to be a father in any significant way or provide K. with any hope that he would step forward. K. knew how he was with his other children and was determined not to be “another one of his baby mama’s” – waiting on child support that never came, waiting with her child for visits that never happened, and so on. And so she decided to move forward without his involvement… never imagining that he would actively pursue fatherhood.
Which he did. To the point where we found ourselves in a courtroom, months after Posy’s birth, trying to prove that he had not supported K. during the pregnancy and had abandoned Posy after the birth. The adoption activist in me reads this and says, yeah how could he *not* have abandoned Posy, when you had her in a different state, many miles away from him? Suffice it to say that he had lots of opportunities to show his interest in her, and aside from the legal proceedings, he didn’t.
At the end of that grueling day, we connected with B. in a way that we had not before. He heard in our testimony how much we loved Posy and what a part of our family she was. C. button-holed him and gave him what I can only describe, good Jew that I am, as a come to Jesus talk about the benefits of open adoption. He gave us his phone number and asked us to call him. We called. He didn’t call back.
We alternated between hope – could he voluntarily terminate his parental rights? – and gut wrenching anxiety – what will the judge decide? Finally, shortly before the judge was going to make his decision, B. called us and told us that he was willing to agree to an open adoption – that he felt like that was the best thing he could do for Posy.
This accounting seems so emotionally distant, now that Posy is legally ensconced in our family. Looking back it is hard to capture in words the precise pitch of those fear-filled months and the peculiar difficulty of trying to live only in the present moment, not allowing ourselves to imagine a future with Posy, but unable to imagine a future without her (I can’t imagine how those of you who do foster-adopt bear it) – trying to protect P’ito from the worry, but not let him be blind-sided either… it was quite honestly the most difficult thing I have ever lived through to date.
The prompt for this Open Adoption Roundtable was very simple and open-ended:
Write about open adoption and time.
I’m constantly aware of the time that’s passing and wondering how it’s passing differently for us and for Posy’s and P’ito’s birthfamilies. I am more aware of it with Posy just because of the strangeness of time when you have a baby – so much routine: bottle, feed, diaper, nap, diaper, bottle, feed – and yet so much newness happening all the time.
My day is made up of moments like these: Posy fighting nap for 45 minutes until I decide I’m just going to take her to the grocery store with me – only to come back upstairs from putting my shoes on and find her fast asleep, clutching her binky. So mundane, and yet so precious.
When I think about all this ordinary time with Posy that her birthfamily doesn’t get to experience, it fills me with gratitude once again for the difficult choice that K. made and that C. lives with – to give us the gift of these moments. And so I’m off to text them: a first tooth is poking through…
Tags: adoption openadoption birthfathers "open adoption", Book club, k Club, Megan's Birthday Tree, open adoption
I’m taking part in the first Open Adoption Roundtable Book Club. So, pull up a chair, pour yourself a glass of wine, and bring on the cheese and crackers. I’m partial to Truffle Tremor and a bottle of pinot noir…
The book we read for this book club was Megan’s Birthday Tree – a kid’s book about open adoption. Megan’s birthmother, Kendra, has a tree that she planted after Megan was born. Every year on Megan’s birthday, she decorates the tree and sends her pictures of it. When Kendra gets married and tells Megan that she is moving, Megan is very worried that without the birthday tree, Kendra will forget about her. Megan tries, with the support of her adoptive parents, to locate a new birthday tree for Kendra to bring to her new home, but is ultimately relieved [spoiler alert] when Kendra shows up with the birthday tree in the back of her pick-up truck.
Overall, I thought the book was sweet and beautifully illustrated, and it was nice to read a kid’s book about open adoption that wasn’t pedantic, but in the end, I felt like everything got wrapped up just a little too neatly to make the story realistic. P’ito was much less critical than I – he liked the story and asked to have it read to him again, and said that he liked reading a story about a kid who was adopted like he was.
People who were less slackerish than I submitted some excellent discussion questions for the book club:
Sometimes when a person reads a picture book about adoption and something rattles something somewhere inside, but they ignore the warning because the book is so cute and mostly so good. Did you have any of those moments in this book?
I definitely had some of those “rattley-inside” feelings reading this book. The stability of Kendra’s life (a house where she could plant a tree?) contrasted so vividly for me with the chaos and instability of K’s life right now, and the extreme poverty of P’ito’s birthfamily. I found myself having a hard time believing in her as a birthmom. I can imagine reading this book with Posy down the road and having her ask, why isn’t my birthmom like that?
Do you think this book represents a realistic view of what open adoption might look like? How does the book and/or your own personal experience with open adoption correlate with what Ms. Page writes as a forward?
Errr… forward? What forward? (blushes) I did think that the vision of open adoption in this book was somewhat rosy and uncomplicated. In our case, we are dealing with the fact that K. has other kids, and placed Posy because she didn’t feel she could do right by them and Posy as a single mom. Although I don’t doubt at all that she cares about Posy, I don’t think, from what I’ve seen so far, that she has the energy to put into the relationship that Kendra demonstrates in the book. The key link in our birthfamily relationship is with C., K’s mom and Posy’s (birth)grandmother. And that aspect of open adoption – that it includes – or can include – extended families and (gasp) birthfathers as well, is not depicted in the book.
Much of the strength of this story lies in the importance of a recurring tradition that links together a birth mother and her adopted child, Megan. What role does tradition play in your child’s relationship with his/her birth mom? If your child’s birth mom isn’t open to frequent contact, does tradition play any role in trying to maintain that relationship?
We have lots of connections with Posy’s (birth)grandma that I think will settle into traditions – presents, hopefully an annual get together, phone calls, etc. etc. and I’d like to establish some traditions with K. to help cement the connection for Posy. Unfortunately, we live far away from each other, so visits are challenging, but I’m hoping that she will write Posy a letter each year on her birthday, just to let her know that she does think about her and so that Posy can also know more about her other siblings. Establishing any kind of connection with B., Posy’s birthfather, has been more problematic so far…
We have had a tradition of visiting P’ito’s birthfamily in Guatemala every other summer, but I’m not sure we’re going to be able to swing that financially this year, which makes me sad…
Do you do anything to celebrate your adoption (whether it’s the date you placed your child or the date you were adopted or you adopted your child)? In what ways does this book inspire you to do so?
We have always celebrated P’ito’s “family day” with going out to ice cream. Right now it just seems like an excuse to go out for ice cream – we don’t spend much time focused on adoption talk on that day, although he does like to hear the story of how I got sick when we were coming home from Guatemala…
In the end, I’m not sure that I will share this book with Posy, just because I can see it making her feel bad about her own adoption… but we’ve got time to see about that!