Does open adoption aid in acceptance or add to confusion for the child?

Confusion

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by Ms. D. Bleu

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I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad. I had no real clue how to react. I was only about 6 years old; what the heck did I know about the word adopted, or what its repercussions meant? Apparently, nothing.

My mother wanted to make sure that I was aware of absolutely all the things that went on in my life from an early age (probably where my control issues stem from now, but I digress). So why should knowing that she and my father had not conceived me in the most traditional sense be any different? So there we were having a very elegant tea party, when I guess it seemed like the right very grown up moment in my tiny little pre-school life. I asked her what it meant as only a mildly confused young child could, "Mommy? Does that mean you wanna give me back?" She nervously laughed it off and gave me an emphatic "no," but I just knew the truth. She was going to send me back to these mystery people who had supposedly given me to her and my father for some kind of "safe keeping" until I could return to my home planet and... Wait. My mother shook her head. "Your home planet is here. On Earth. Weirdo. And they didn't give you to us for safe keeping. Well, sorta. I mean they wanted you to be safe but... They loved you; they just couldn't take care of you."

"But isn't that why mommies and daddies have babies? They loved me but they let you have me? But if I'm not really yours, are you sure you love me? And who loves me more? And what about my home planet? Don't they miss me?"

Wow. This simple discussion over pretend tea had gotten really serious. Barbie fell out of her chair. My Cabbage Patch Kid, Katy, was starting to look a little uncomfortable. Her eyes were wide open and she had this intense look like she was holding her breath, her cheeks were bulging. I picked her up and looked at my mother. "Katy's 'dopted, right? She came with a sifikit, right? Where's my sifikit, mommy?"

"Your 'certificate' is with all the other stuff I keep that is important about you. And stop talking about this 'home planet.' You live here. We love you and you're ours. Katy's adopted, yes. And you still love her, right?"

"Of course, mommy. She's my baby."

"Just like you. You're my baby. And I love you even more than you love Katy. See? It makes sense now, right?"

It didn't. Not fully, but it made enough sense to get me through the day, through a few years, actually. Unfortunately, by the time I was old enough to have adult questions about my adoption, my adoptive parents were both deceased and I had no one around in my immediate family who knew anything at all about the process. It was a frustrating and very trying time. It still is, as the laws of my state make it extremely difficult for adoptees to find out information about their adoption or their birth families.

Being of the situation, I believe that while the confusion caused in youth may be easily explained away, when an adoptee becomes an adult we often want answers that a lot of us never receive. The laws should be changed to not only protect the rights of the parents, but to protect the mental, emotional and physical health of the adoptee. While some states have provisions in their disclosure laws allowing adoptees limited access to their medical records, most do not. Furthermore, the bureaucracy involved once the search has begun leaves a lot of people feeling hopeless. Months can be spent waiting on information to arrive which you can never be sure is full and accurate. Dead-ends are a common issue. In some cases, I have watched the searcher fall into deep depression, feeling like they are going in circles with no end in sight. Most adoptees do not want to cause rifts in their birth families' lives, but want the closure and family information that they are entitled to. At times, we feel treated like criminals for wanting access to information that we never gave up our rights to have access to. Reforms of adoption laws would bring peace of mind to those of us who feel that a part of ourselves have been missing. It can be hard knowing that you have an immediate family out there whom you have never met, especially because most adopted children live within miles of their birth families.

To this day, Katy and I comfort each other by swapping our adoption stories with each other. And she still has that same uncomfortable look. I have received some information and plan to continue my search. The hope is that the void my story has created in my heart can be filled by one day finding the truth. I have been confused in my life by some of the things I have learned as an adoptee, but believe that it is a necessary void. Without that confusion, I may have really never known who I am.

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