I did.
Mostly.
My mother guided me through creating about a dozen side dishes and my father made the turkey (whom I did not eat)...
My little brother and his very long term girlfriend came down from L.A and with Flipper back home in the Midwest with his family it was just the six of us for dinner...
It was nice until it wasn't and then it was again, even though I was trying not to cry and was desperately trying to start up new topics of conversation... The awkwardness hung in the air...
After dinner was over, my mother, brothers girlfriend and I sat around the table with tea while my brothers and father sat in the adjoining living room watching football...
Then my the girlfriend asked us what we thought of this last weeks Private Practice episode...
My mother looked at me and I tried to stay quiet while everyone chimed in on how awful it would be to be an adoptive parent these days with birth parents coming back and wanting to be part of the babies life...
I said nothing while they talked about the benefits of adopting overseas so those terrible birth parents cant just show up. How selfish open adoption is and how confusing it is for the child. How if the birth parents really cared they would leave the child be. That over time birth parents forget and move on anyway...
I wish I was exaggerating...
By the time they encouraged me to give my opinion I was on the verge of tears. But it got worse. I told them I thought that openness my not be the easiest situation for everyone but that if adoption is really for the best of the baby, all adults involved would endure a bit of discomfort for the long term benefit of the baby who had no say...
There was more and you all know where I stand but I was shut down at every turn.
My mother kept saying that she is adopted and knows best, that she doesn't care who her birth family was because she had parents and the girlfriend announcing that she has an adopted friend who doesn't want to know his bio family either...
I nearly lost it.
I tried to keep a calm tone because their arguments kept getting more and more hurtful as they saw that they were getting to me...
I looked at the girlfriend and told her that knowing someone who was adopted did not make her an authority. That the man Im sleeping with is African American and that does not make me an expert on what if feels like to be black, or to be discriminated against because of race.
My brother than joined that attack telling me he finds me offensive, that to speak about these things so openly is offensive and hurtful and disrespectful to the grandmother who raised me. (I was not the one who started the conversation) That he had grandparents and doesn't need more and that he is disgusted that I could feel so strongly about it...
My mother held to her "Im adopted, Im right , I win" stance. I was accused of only being interested in knowing because I had already found my grandmother. That if they weren't who they were I wouldn't want to know. To which I made my mother remind everyone that I had wanted to know from the moment I knew my mother was adopted. And she agreed.
They spoke with such assured arrogance and ignorance that I felt like a stranger in my house.
At one point my father tried to come to my aid but was bulldozed by my mother. He held to the importance of knowing ones medical history and they all meekly agreed though said knowing your history wouldn't change anything so it really doesn't matter.
Finally I gave up. Bruised and bleeding I surrendered.
I simply said that if I were to be put in a situation where I was adopting, I would not even consider entering into an adoption agreement without openness. Extreme openness. Like "the baby has two mommies"kind of openness.
And they went for the kill.
I was told I was an idiot. That they would feel bad for any baby that I put in that position. That is was wrong and they wouldn't do it. I said it was wrong to steal babies and promise things you wont deliver just to get a baby...
I tried to remain calm. To not cry. And to not have a panic attack...
All the while they kept forgetting that I am a social worker and a therapist. That I am getting a PhD after almost ten years in the field. That I worked in the adoption industry as an adoption worker for only a year before becoming disgusted with its current state and leaving to work as a child advocate for homeless families before moving to California to work as a burn unit child development specialist and social worker. That I specialize in trauma and loss, its effects on a child's brain and teach coping skills to children who have suffered trauma and loss. That outside of my personal experience and feelings on the matter, I have years of professional experience as well.
No. I was wrong. Period. And worse, I was a stupid, ignorant and even cruel person for my opinions...many of which are facts that can be backed with data...
I feel broken.
I never once said something hateful about adoption. Not once. Because I don't hate the concept, I hate its incarnation. It should be about building a tribe around a child and creating a supportive family for everyone involved. It should never be selfish and should always be real love. Love for history as well as future potential. Love for everything that made that little person be who they are and will be. Love for the family that created him... Respect enough to know they are important and not to be ignored or erased. Birth certificates that speak truth and adoption certificates that state circumstances.
I know I would love a baby that wasn't born to me because I do it every day... but I would also love his mother...
Yet the amount of hate that rained down on me was unsettling and I still don't feel right. They didn't just disagree with me, they dragged me kicking and screaming into a conversation I didn't want to have just to back me into a corner and attack... I felt like I didn't know them.
So for now I wont be speaking about adoption. At all.
I am putting my search for my family on hold.
I'm questioning myself and am afraid to hurt or offend people with my thoughts... I don't trust myself right now. It was a core shaking evening.
I always felt that I am not angry or extreme in my feelings on adoption. I though it was common sense. I know I may be optimistic and hopeful when I think of the benefits of openness. But shouldn't you be when thinking on raising a child? Shouldn't it be beautiful and hopeful even though you know there will be hard times and challenges?? Shouldn't you do the right thing anyway?
I know what is right, what is good and what isnt.
I thought we all did...
I was wrong.
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