In this particular case, an adoption was being held up because the Master (lower than a judge) interpreted the Adoption Act as requiring the birth father to be informed of the adoption, despite the fact that he was unaware of the pregnancy and had not been named on the birth certificate. The master believed that the child had the right to know both his/her biological parents’ histories.

However, a Supreme Court Judge over-ruled this decision. This Judge’s interpretation of the Act was that the birth father should only be informed of the child’s adoption if he had admitted paternity and was aware of the pregnancy. It was contended that the Act did not compel the birth mother to inform the birth father of the child’s existence.

this throws up the question of a birth father’s right to know he has a child, and to be involved in the adoption process, if he chooses. Of course, there are always situations where it isn’t appropriate to involve or name the birth father, and no-one disputes this.

I haven’t done a lot of research on the current lie of the land in terms of the role of birth fathers in adoption these days, and their own thinking on the subject. From an adoptee’s point of view, I can say two things.

Firstly, I think informing the birth father of the pregnancy and the child’s adoption at the time makes it far easier for the adoptee to make contact with him down the track. When a birth father has no idea of the child’s existence, the search and reunion process is so much harder for all concerned. An adoptee may think about searching for years before actually doing it, but the person being contacted – in this case, the unsuspecting birth father – needs just as much time to come to terms with what this means to him.

Secondly, I agree that having access to both biological parents’ backgrounds is so important for the adoptee. Even if the adoptee decides never to search for either party, at least he/she has some idea of his/her background. Forming an identity of who we are is so difficult if some of the past is missing.

In saying all this, I acknowledge some adoptees are not interested in their biological backgrounds and never search for their biological parents. But that is their choice. And choice is the optimum word here. Everyone in the process needs the chance to choose whether they play a role in the whole adoption story. By denying birth fathers the right to know they have a child, they are denied the right to be involved in choosing the adoptive parents, in keeping in touch with the child, and in perhaps meeting that child one day.

These are just my comments and feelings, but I’d love to hear from others. Feel free to jot down what you think about birth fathers and their rights.

I came across a blog post by Amba which addresses this sensitive subject. In her post, she reviews a book by David Jones entitled “My Father’s House”, an adoption memoir written twenty odd years ago. In this book, a couple of thought-provoking ideas are raised.

The overall theme is that blood is not thicker than water, ie that being genetically related does not guarantee acceptance or bonding. Jones describes a practise in ancient Roman times when a man who sired a child had to have that child placed at his feet after birth, so that he could pick it up and “bond” or adopt it as his own. Without this happening, the father has not committed himself to being the father of that child.

Jones goes on to align adoption with marriage. In marriage, each person chooses the other and makes a commitment to a relationship. In adoption, there is also choice and an agreement to commit to an ongoing relationship.

Jones’ message is clear. When parents and children are forced apart by adoption, the “bond”, albeit biological, has been broken and is not strong enough to ensure a connection when these parties meet later on in life. He believes that the reason that adoptees see their adoptive parents as their “real” parents is because of the choice factor, despite it being one-way rather than two-way.

This perspective may evoke some heated debate. Is Jones mainly speaking about birth fathers who don’t carry the grief and loss that birth mothers do? And how does he explain the really strong relationships between separated families wen they are finally reunited? And what about the myriad of other factors that come into play when families affected by adoption come together?

For those adoptees who struggle with the question about why their reunions haven’t succeeded, such a theory makes perfect sense. Perhaps it is a chink of the puzzle that forms the complex picture of adoption.

In a southern Ecuadorean town, it is claimed that a twin girl was stolen by one of the delivery doctors after a caesarian on an unsuspecting mother. The event took place fifteen years ago and would have remained hidden if not for the chance sighting of the second twin, Marielisa, at a restaurant. Marielisa’s appearance was identical to that of Andrea’s – the first twin – that the birth mother had no doubt they were related. When Marielisa was asked who her father was, she named one of the doctors who delivered Andrea.

On the other side of the world, a UK couple who adopted a Chinese baby from an orphanage were never told she had a twin sister. It was only when they proudly posted photos of their new daughter on the internet that a couple who had adopted her twin came forward, revealing the truth.

Both these stories have raised the emotionally charged question of whether twins who have been separated without consent through adoption, should be reunited.

In Marielisa’s case, the answer is not straightforward, as people might assume. Whilst her biological parents are pursuing a law suit to have their daughter returned to them and the doctors charged, Marielisa wants to stay where she is. She’s fifteen years old, has grown up within a loving adoptive family, and understandably, doesn’t want her life uprooted.
I can imagine the emotional turmoil Marielisa is experiencing. She suddenly finds out she has an identical twin sister, and that her parents are not her biological parents. Perhaps she was told she was adopted, so this might not be such an issue for her. But the mere fact of coming face to face with her biological parents would be enough to stir up feelings. There is also the assumption that because the girls are identical twins, that they will get on really well, despite having lived separate lives. Is this always the case with twins? Do they always share a strong bond? And how easy would it be to begin living with a family you don’t know, and be expected to slot into a firm relationship with a sister who looks just like you?

I also can imagine how terribly hard it would be for Marielisa’s biological parents to hold back, do nothing. From their viewpoint, they were wronged, had their baby stolen from them, had their daughter deprived of a sister. They want justice, and they want it now. And to hear that Marielisa wants them to stop the law suit, to leave well alone, would be very hurtful.

For the UK couple with the Chinese child, the same issue raises its head. They feel strongly that the girls should not be separated, that what happened was wrong. But they know they can’t just take the second twin off her adoptive parents. They can only hope that the two girls will form a relationship over time and maintain a connection. They were not allowed to visit the orphanage when they adopted their little girl, and now they know why, as they would have seen she had a twin.

This couple also lives in hope of having some contact with their daughter’s biological parents in the future. Whilst no records are kept for single children in orphanages, twins in China are seen as special. The UK couple hope this fact might lead to them tracking the biological parents one day, to let them know their girls are fine. You can read their story here

Both stories are very sad. The solution? With Marielisa’s adoptive parents claiming she was given away willingly by her biological mother, and her biological mother claiming she was stolen from her, there seems to be no chance for an amicable relationship. I can only hope that all parties get professional help from a counsellor in adoption, and from a mediator. In the UK couple’s case, there appears some hope that the twins will meet one another and have the chance to form a strong relationship with one another.

In Western Australia, we have open adoptions. This means the birth mother – and the birth father, if he is a willing partner – chooses the adoptive parents for the child. These prospective adoptive parents have undergone intensive education and assessment on their ability to be parents. But being an adoptive parent is different: these parents must understand the issues of adoption, that the adopted child has unique needs which can’t be ignored or covered up.

I’ve been astounded by the huge response on talk-back radio shows, mostly against this particular case. From past experience in adoption, I know full well that emotions run high in the adoption debate, that it triggers strong feelings.

I’ve been very saddened by the attitudes of the majority of people towards same sex couples taking on the adoptive parent role. For me, it’s shown a terrible ignorance about parenting and sexuality. Callers have stated that the child will become homosexual because he is being brought up by homosexuals. Nothing could be further from the truth, but people with such a strong belief won’t listen to reason or science.

I think the bottom line here is that people who respond so negatively, firstly to gay couples being parents, and secondly to the whole notion of adoption, have their own issues and experiences that have shaped their thinking. Comments such as, ‘the best interests of the child can only come through living with the birth mother or birth father’, and ‘adoption should be outlawed’ ignore the fact that sometimes, the natural family is the worst place for the child to be brought up in. Is it better for a child to live in a domestic violence situation, rather than be adopted into a safe environment?

I didn’t come from that sort of background, but I am glad that I’m adopted. Yes, it’s sad that I’ve lost my connection with my natural family, and yes, I wish such things didn’t have to happen. But sometimes, it’s unavoidable. And sometimes, life can be better in an adoptive family.

I suppose I am lucky because I had a good adoption. I don’t want to insinuate that bad adoptions don’t occur, because they do. And maybe that’s why some people react so strongly against adoption.

In this current controversy, the birth mother’s mother approached a radio station to reply to all the people who were maligning her daughter. She stated that the baby is ‘thriving’ in his new home. This was her daughter’s choice, backed up by her family, and she said there would never be any regrets. And this little boy won’t be deprived of his natural family down the track.

Maybe my own personal experience is behind my support for this adoption. I acknowledge that. I’ve seen all sides of the fence and I know just how hard it can be for a single mother contemplating bringing up a baby alone.

Let me address the latter issue first. Kerri was surfing the net during school time, found one of my blogs on the difficulty of contacting birth parents, and had time to write just a few lines about her own adoption experience. What came through was her frustration in not being able to find places where she could share her thoughts and feelings with people in the same situation. She is only 16, has been contacted by and met her biological grandparents, but her birth mother is absent from the scene because she has schizophrenia. Dealing with all the emotions that come with meeting birth families is hard enough for anyone, let alone for someone as young as Kerri. And on top of that, she has to cope with having a birth mother who isn’t well.

It takes me back to the chapter in my book, ‘Beyond the Red Door’, where I tried to paint a picture of the incredible array of feelings I experienced when I met my birth mother – who made it clear she wanted no further contact – and then was contacted by my biological grandparents who were desperate to meet me. To someone who is not adopted, being accepted by your natural family shouldn’t cause any problems. But there is so much at stake. There is confusion about why one part of the family wants you while the other doesn’t, excitement at being accepted, disbelief that it will last, fear that your adoptive parents might feel rejected, and fear of being rejected because of course, it can’t be true.

If you don’t know where to go with all these feelings, who to talk to, you can feel very cut off from the world around you. There are support services out there, counselors and social workers who specialise in the field of adoption. Sometimes it may not be about how to find them as much as taking that step to trust another person with your deepest thoughts and fears.

Why is it so hard? Because you feel different. You feel as though you shouldn’t have the sort of feelings you do, that you shouldn’t want to know your natural family, know more about your background. You might feel disloyal and ungrateful to your adoptive parents. And if your adoptive parents have put up a barrier to you expressing your thoughts on adoption, it becomes even harder to talk about how you feel.

when you do find the right counselor or support group, the relief is enormous. That’s when you discover there is nothing wrong with how you are feeling, that it is perfectly natural.

I remember the day I finally got the courage to see an adoption counsellor because I could no longer handle being bombarded with images of my birth father in the media. At that stage, I hadn’t searched for him. I wanted the counsellor to give me some technique to stop the feelings I was having. I nearly fell off my chair when she said, “It’s perfectly natural for you to feel this way. Why don’t you consider contacting him?”. So I wasn’t some half crazed loser after all!

In thinking about where to find support, I’ve just stumbled across a new website that specialises in international and transracial adoptions for all sides of the adoption triangle. It looks pretty comprehensive and is promoting a documentary that is being made about the issues in transracial adoption. The film will follow American adoptive parents who go to China to meet their new daughter, and an adult Korean adoptee living with white parents whose adoptive mother is diagnosed with a brain tumour, which brings up new issues of abandonment. The film will also incorporate comments from professional counsellors and social workers on the issues brought up by all parties concerned.

You can view the site at Adopted, The Movie They are wanting more input from adoptees, have a blog and film clips to view.

Kerri’s comments have reminded me just how isolated adoptees can feel, especially during the teenage years when so many questions surface about who we are. I hope she finds someone to support her.

But any adoption, whether it is from a closed or open system, has its challenges. I came across an incredibly moving story from an adoptive parent, Dawn Friedman, about the emotions involved when she adopted her daughter, Madison, in an open adoption system. Dawn writes honestly and freely about her own grief and guilt in “taking” her daughter from her birth mother.

It is thought provoking and refreshing to read. ‘Open Adoption, Broken Heart’ can be viewed here

It speaks for itself.

This chapter really highlights many of the issues adoptees experience through life. It’s been seven years since I first met my natural father, seven years of trying to stuff down my feelings, deny my needs. But of course, denying things never works. My feelings eventually explode and I find myself before a counsellor.

This time, I meet the right person. Before I make the big decision about whether or not to reach out again to my natural father – who has been absent in the last seven years – I must deal with my adoption issues, my feelings of loss. As a social worker, you’d think I’d know this, that adoption is a loss and must be grieved. But like most of society, the losses associated with adoption are not recognised.

I think this was the roughest road I’ve ever been down. But the results at the end were worth it. At the end of the process, I choose to seek a second reunion with my natural father. But nothing is ever simple or straightforward in adoption, and much strength is needed.

Phew, that’s over! No more tim tams left!

It takes a lot of courage to make that decision, the decision to search. What makes it a hard choice initially is society’s inherent attitude towards adoptees, that they should be grateful for being adopted. How could they possibly want more than what they had – loving parents who chose to take them on?

It’s not something I was ever openly told over and over, but it cropped up either as a direct comment, or as an implied one. It was enough to stop me from expressing my real feelings to my adoptive parents, even though they were not the instigators of these comments. I was lucky, then, that they were the ones to bring up the notion to find my roots when I turned eighteen.

But even with their blessing, their support and my need to discover who I was, reaching out to my birth parents was frightening. What if I was rejected again? Was I really not good enough? And what “right” did I have to “intrude” into their lives?

These words, “right” and “intrude” certainly plagued my life, tripping me up all the way along the search and reunion track. Again, I think the belief that I didn’t have the right to contact my natural family, that I mustn’t intrude and cause them any hurt, came from covert and overt messages all around me. It makes building and maintaining relationships in adoption very difficult.

I suppose it didn’t help that in both initial meetings with my birth parents, I got the “not interested” and “don’t believe we’re related” messages. If someone had asked me “what’s the worst thing that could happen?” when setting out to make contact, I think I would have given these answers. Not a good way to start a relationship, if given the choice, which I wasn’t by my natural mother.

Another barrier to making contact is the fear of an aggressive response by the natural parent about being “found”. And here I am reminded of the laws that unfairly prevent adoptees from discovering their true identities, that it is somehow the product of a “warped or crazed mind” to want to find our families of origin. Just as I am appalled that Aboriginal people weren’t granted citizenship in Australia until 1967, I shake my head in disbelief at the lack of human rights to people affected by adoption. But spare a thought for sperm donor children whose records don’t even exist, and who encounter the abrupt “no contact” response if they are lucky enough to have identifying information.

The reasons I’ve listed here relate to my experience. There are many more reasons why adoptees find it hard to make that first contact with a natural parent. I’d love to hear your own experiences, and I’m not forgetting the other parties to adoption either. Feel free to make your comments.

I read a great post by Mia

Mia (an adoptee with a reluctant birth mother) talked about not liking the term “letting go”, that she didn’t want to let go. What she says makes sense, and I have no problems with it.

My perspective is different, though. My birth mother “rejected” me in our first and only meeting. She said things like, “you’re nothing like me”, “I never thought about you”. Now I know these are all defensive comments, her way of coping, but they hurt. When I was reunited with her parents and sister – my birth grandparents and aunt – I always wondered if they might be able to make her change her mind. It took many years to finally see they couldn’t, that my birth mother would never change her mind.

I don’t think I realised that I’d actually let go of that hope until speaking with someone recently who has worked with many adoptees in counselling. She said, about my birth mother, “there’s still time”. I then realised that I wasn’t hoping or waiting, that I just knew nothing would change, and that I felt no anger towards my birth mother.

So for me, letting go has been the right thing to do. It had to be my decision, no-one else’s. Letting go has helped me to feel more settled in my life. But it is a long road before you get there!

Get used to me saying that this was the hardest chapter to write, because I think the further I get into my story, the harder it was to write about things that happened to me.

So in this chapter, I take the big plunge and contact my natural father through a mediation agency. Straightforward? No, quite the opposite. Again with the tangle of emotions that I was carrying, together with a lack of understanding of the complex issues for all parties in the adoption triangle, I stumble into a reunion that just about knocks me out. I’d been blind (excuse the pun) to any signs that my natural father doubted our relationship, so when he threw me this curved ball, I wasn’t ready for it.

Months go by with very little communication, letters that go unanswered, questions hanging. Finally, the DNA tests are done, and our relationship is proven. In all this, my adoptive parents stood by me, as solid as rocks.

Does it get easier then, yu ask? No, it doesn’t. And you’ll have to read the chapter to find out what happens.