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Sucky proposed NJ adoption law

November 26th, 2009 · 21 Comments

matthew_roberts

I bet that Matthew Roberts, birthson of Charles Manson, is so thrilled that he looked into his family tree!

So, apparently the State of NJ is looking to open up sealed adoption records.

I love shit like this.  You entered a contract that stipulates you will have no contact with your birthson/daughter after he/she is born.  Period.  End of story.  These arguments are always couched in the context of adoptees wanting to know their medical history, despite the fact that this information is often available to them.  The problem with this legislation is two-fold.  First, it “would give adult adoptees, adoptive parents of a minor or descendants of a deceased adoptee access to their original birth certificates” and secondly, “it would provide birth parents a one-time 12-month period to ask the state to remove their names and addresses from the documents.”

What what what?

If you don’t know already, I am a birthmother.  (And in the interest of full disclosure: because of the way adoptions are set up now, you’re often pressured into an open adoption, meaning you can hang out with your birthchild after they have been adopted and be a part of their life.  I’m not too hep on that, in part because I can see it confusing the living shit out of a kid.  This law would not apply to me because I agreed to allow contact with my birthson should he want it at any point in time.)  I’m not going to bore you to tears with all the background, but I will leave it at this: I gave birth when I was 20, the whole process really sucked ass (to put it mildly), I had a lot of personal reasons for doing so (including, but not limited to the fact that I was forced into the decision by my [then] boyfriend), and adoption is an issue that pisses me off because the voices of the birthmothers are so rarely heard.  Hearing the crap of “omg! you’re so strong!” enrages me to no end.  There is no strength in making difficult decisions and living your life the best you can after making those decisions.  It’s just what you do.  What other option do you have?  To curl up in a ball, refuse to make a decision, and deal with the much worse consequences?  Yeah, try that and let me know how that works out for you.

Adoption is a decision that is focused less on the woman and more on the child, especially as you go on further with the process.  It was used as a way to shame young, unmarried pregnant girls as recently as 40 years ago.  (If you don’t believe me on that one, pick up a copy of The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade by Ann Fessler.  I try to read it every year or so, but haven’t gotten past halfway through it because I can’t stop crying.  It’s a seriously powerful book that gives a nice chunk of insight on adoption from women who have actually experienced it.)

In addition to that background, I’ve also known a few adoptees, even fewer birthparents, and I’m sure I’ve encountered an adoptive parent or two in my time.  Needless to say, I consider myself pretty knowledgeable about the process.

With all that being said, there is absolutely no reason to need your original birth certificate with information such as your birth parent’s name(s) unless you are seeking contact with them.  None.  The fatal flaw with adoptees’ rights movements is that they tend to play into the same rhetoric that controls women.

I understand wanting to know about your medical history.  This will probably get me in trouble with my parents if they should ever stumble upon my blog, but fuck it, I’m disclosing it anyway.  We (meaning my family, including my father) have never known my paternal grandfather.  My dad has a name, a SSN, and minimal information at best.  For all I know, I could be a carrier for some incredibly rare genetic disorder.  (And given that Libertarian Boyfriend is Jewish, that could potentially pose a problem.)  Even more likely, there could be a family history of, say, heart disease that we aren’t aware of.  The only thing I can do is keep up on medical screenings (once I get health insurance again) and just hope for the best.

Additionally, my shitbag ex never signed our biological son’s birth certificate.  All my birthson has to go by is the minimal information he filled out on the paperwork, and no legal acknowledgment of his being a biological parent.  (My memory is a little fuzzy, but I am not so certain that he ever even signed away his parental rights.)  So, let’s say my birthson wanted medical history and decided to track me down via the adoption agency’s paperwork.  I haven’t had contact with my ex-boyfriend in about 8 years.  Aside from directing him to my ex’s parents’ house, I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to contact him, and frankly, given that his parents continue to baby him at 31 years old, he’d probably be lucky if he got the door slammed in his face.

Using me as an example, if my birthson were to contact me, all I could tell him is “sorry dude, I’ve got no clue!”  Unfortunately for him, the same level of accountability isn’t thrust upon birthfathers.  It was more crucial that I sign away my parental rights, in part due to sexism (because women are so much more emotional and prone to fits of hysteria than men) and also in part due to the fact that it’s hard to deny sharing DNA when you had six people peering into your cooz a few days beforehand.  He didn’t have to have the same level of accountability, so when he didn’t sign my birthson’s birth certificate, it was more of a commentary of the sad plight of the unwed mother.  It just solidified the idea that I was some sad, pathetic girl who would be throwing her life away if I raised the baby on my own.  Things were just better this way.

It was the hardest decision I ever made, and the language that adoptee rights groups use always makes women like me seem like selfish bitches unless they relent.  Let’s forget that this might be a painful memory for them.  Let’s forget that they might regret their decision.  Let’s forget that they may have rape victims (as was the case with Matthew Roberts’ birthmother, Terri).  Let’s forget everything.  A despicable human being who would give up her own child instead of just deal with the consequences has also given up all rights to move on.  This whole time, that stupid bitch thought she was giving her child a better life, one that she wasn’t able to give him or her.  This whole time, that stupid, selfish bitch thought that every night she cried herself to sleep, it was because the whole experience was so painful and damaging, but clearly it was because she was just a selfish whore who wanted to have her cake and eat it, too.

Thinking about how difficult it must have been for the woman certainly puts a different spin on things, doesn’t it?

As much as I want to laugh my ass off at the Manson birthson news in some “wow, isn’t that a wacky news story?” sort of way, I can’t help but feel horribly for his poor birthmother.  (Whose rape I’ve seen labeled as a “claim” in at least one news article.  Yeah, because it’s a shocker that Charles Manson might have actually raped a woman.)  Can you imagine being raped by a man, getting pregnant by him, going through the pain of an adoption, and then later finding out that this man was responsible for one of the most infamous murders of the 20th century?  This isn’t meant to take away from Roberts’ shock, but for the love of God, could we please acknowledge that this probably wasn’t terribly easy for his birthmother to live with for over 40 years?

On top of these medical health issues (that, again, adoptee rights’ groups always hide behind), the stipulation that birthparents will have a year to get their info pulled off of the birth certificate is ridiculous.  How widely is this information decimated?  Seriously?  Considering that most women who surrender babies for adoption are likely not rich, is it that implausible that they might not have access to this information?  Furthermore, what if they moved out of state and aren’t keeping up on NJ adoption news?  Maybe they’ve blocked it out because it was so painful?  To be honest, I don’t remember what day my birthson was born.  I just remember that it was sometime in July 1999.  I think it was in the beginning of the month, but I honestly don’t know.  And shit, though my adoption was painful, traumatic, and not something would wish on anyone, there are certainly birthmothers out there who had a much more painful experience than I did.  What’s to say that they’ve blocked the whole thing out until their birthchild knocks on their door demanding to know “medical information”?

This law is a horrible breach of contract and trust for these women.  (Though some would argue that the first mistake was trusting the state initially.)  If adoptees want to know their medical history, the way they treat their bodies now is far more important.  Keep up on your medical screenings, get every test you can afford, and be thankful that you were raised by loving people who cared about you and were able to provide you with a decent life.  If my birthson comes knocking on my door and tries to lay some crap on me about feeling an emotional connection, the first words out of my mouth will likely be to tell him that the people who raised him and cared for him for all these years are his parents, not me.  I supplied the egg and the prenatal housing.  They are the ones who did the actual work.

I have a problem with most adoption legislation because it is a great example of throwing a blanket solution onto a series of individual situations.  What’s often missing in these laws and in adoption narratives is the voice of the women involved.  Women are not a homogeneous group.  We do not all feel the same damn way, and too often, our personal stories, reactions, etc., are removed from the discussion.  The second you decide to go through with an adoption, everything becomes about the child.  You are pretty much a vessel, a broodmare, a breeder.  People think they’re doing you a favor when they refer to you as omg!strong! or when they use you to promote a pro-life agenda or, better yet, they’re so uncomfortable with the situation that they can’t do anything but avoid any conversations that too close to your expanding belly and hormonal mood swings.

No matter how you slice it, your voice is no longer heard.  And that’s one of the biggest problems surrounding the general topic of adoption.

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If you’re reading this from my Facebook notes, please go to the original blog post (located here) to comment.

Tags: libertarians have silly politics · real life nonsense · republocrats

21 responses so far ↓

  • 1 Jaime // Nov 26, 2009 at 8:09

    Hey Vicki, I have an older brother that my mom put up for adoption in 69. she was 19. he isn’t my dad’s son, his birthfather is a douche and he found my mom when he was 24, i was15. his birthfather didn’t sign anything either. It has been difficult for both of our families from the start. The agency, Catholic Charities, were TORTUROUS to my mom. I know it was 40 years ago, but there is no excuse for how she was treated. My mom heard a girl in the next room giving birth, screaming her lungs out, and the nun said,”Then I guess she should have kept her legs closed.”. Her mother, my grandmom, wasn’t even allowed to come see her or be in the room when she gave birth. She was made to feel ashamed and suffered more than I will ever understand. My mom chose an adoption like yours, closed until the child reaches 18 at which point he could have access if he wants. The problem was the agency LIED to him about where my mom was, told him she was single and living in trenton. He was raised in Westmont. This was only 15 years ago. It took him years to dig through the lies and find her.My mom is just starting to heal. The process was lonely and hurtful and never leaves her.

  • 2 Amyadoptee // Nov 26, 2009 at 14:06

    I agree with you that the voice of mothers is often overlooked. It is often not heard. Many do not want to hear it. When I was denied contact, I made a point of listening to the mothers. I had to understand why. I am not your typical angry adoptee although many would like to define me that way.

    In fact, I am one of those adoptees who feels that mothers should have access to the same documents. If an adoptee gets access via a non certified copy of their original birth certificate, then the mothers should get a non certified copy of the amended birth certificate. Heck I would like to do away with the amended certificate. Have just one birth certificate that has all of the information on it.

    Today with Homeland Security being what it is, adoptees need access to that document to prove that they exist and that they are indeed American citizens. I know several adoptees who can not get passports because of this issue. I am not one of those people that believes mothers should have no rights or no say. If a mother does not want contact with her relinquished child, that is fine. All she has to do is tell the adoptee. If the adoptee persists, then there are stalking/harassment laws that will put an end to it. Same laws for everyone. No one should have special privileges or immunities. The non adoption related folks don’t have them. The same applies to the adoption community.

    As an adoptee from the closed era, I do not have a complete medical history. The state of Indiana does not consider the father as part of this. I am missing that part of my medical history. Unlike your ex, my father wanted to raise me. If your son ever contacts you, give him his father’s name. People like me will finish the rest for him. I do not believe that the medical history should come from the government. That is in direct violation of HIPAA laws. Again the adoption community needs to be treated equally. The adoptee should get that information straight from the horse’s mouth. That way it is more accurate even if it is harsh. I am one of those that rather deal in truth than more lies.

    I hope that you are willing to have an honest conversation with me and the others that will be here. I do not intend to slam you but I would like to hear more from you on this.

  • 3 BroadSnark // Nov 27, 2009 at 10:03

    I was adopted.

    Until I read The Girls Who Went Away, I always assumed that my birth parents had done what they thought was right (or felt compelled to do by stupid religious beliefs) and moved on with their lives. I thought I would have done the same thing. End of story.

    Once I read that book, I put my name on an adoption registry. So many of the women in that book were traumatized by their vilification, whorification, and total lack of power. Many of them suffered post traumatic stress their whole lives. If my birth parents want to know I’m o.k., I want them to be able to find me. And, to be honest, I now want to know that they are o.k.

    I can barely imagine how you might feel to be surprised by a visit representing a trauma you probably don’t want rehashed. But that child didn’t ask to be brought into this world. And regardless of how powerless you felt, you had more power than that child did.

    And I am sorry to say that not all adoption stories are as lovely as people imagine. I turned out o.k., but it wasn’t exactly a bed of roses. All agencies wanted to know was if people were married and had money. They didn’t do psych screenings. There is no test administered to tell whether or not the adopted pearents are “loving people.” And there is never a guarantee about what kind of life anyone is going to be able to provide.

    All adoptions start with a tragedy. I wish there was more acknowledgment of that. The saddest part is that, for too many people, the tragedy continues for years.

    I don’t know what I’m trying to say here. Just, thank you for your story and your honesty. And I’m sorry for your loss.

  • 4 Cedar // Nov 27, 2009 at 14:01

    Vicki, you are right that we natural mothers do not all feel the same way. But you are wrong when you don’t follow your own advice and follow that statement up with the assertion that “The second you decide to go through with an adoption, everything becomes about the child. You are pretty much a vessel, a broodmare, a breeder. ”

    You see, there are many of us who have lost children to adoption who still do feel the mother-child bond, who loved and did not want to surrender our babies. Many of us do not consider ourselves to be breeders and vessels etc., but to be mothers. Our love for our children didn’t end at birth. I won’t bore you with the details of my own story (you can read it on my blog), but my son returned after 20 years as a full part of our family again and I adopted him back.

    I agree with you that a “one-sided open records” law leaves natural mothers at the mercy of others, the same powerlessness as when we lost our child to adoption. As well, you are also right that obtaining the natural mother’s identity is only needed if the adoptee is intent on search and reunion (I wonder what percentage of non-reunited adoptees get their OBC’s and then do not search?).

    But you are missing some facts. Adoption is not a contract. It does not fall under contract law, but under administrative law. The natural mother obtains nothing in exchange for her signature. Adoption records are not sealed shut until the adoption is finalized in court, a different legal event than the surrender. If the child is never adopted, the records are never sealed.

    I think that a system of equal access and equal right to privacy, as we have in Canada, is the answer. An imperfect answer, but better than one-sided access. Here in “open records provinces,” both adoptees and natural parents can obtain the original birth record, amended birth record (with adoptive parents names redacted) and related records. Reunion is recognized as a valid motivation, as well as “identity rights” of adoptees. Either party can also file a veto that removes their own personal name from the records (but releases everything else), or requests no contact. This is a balance. There are still problems, and many of us (including myself) believe that vetoes in-principle are inhumane, but this system works and has been in place in B.C. for 14 years now. Three other provinces have opened their records in the meantime and 2 more are intending to.

    On a personal note: I think that once you reunite with your son, you may find that you have overwhelming feelings of love, mother-love, for him. Or you might not. But do not write him off as not being your son any longer until reunion has happened and you find out how both you and he feel. You may find that you have NOT been replaced in his life and are more than a “breeder.”

    I also suggest you may wish to look into whether or not you may have PTSD due to the loss of your child — it is not only common but can lead to long-term numbing of emotions.

    Cedar

  • 5 drunkenatheist // Nov 27, 2009 at 14:35

    Let me preface by saying this: unfortunately, I do not have the ability to respond as a thread (I have no idea if Wordpress has a plugin or offers it as option or what have you), so I’m going to have to leave individual comments…or else this is quickly going to turn into a full-fledged clusterfuck. Stupid commenting system.

    @Jaime: The whole set-up is just crappy. I’ve read tons of accounts from women where an open adoption wound up getting closed off within a year or two, and for women who wanted to be really involved in their kid’s lives, they’re left feeling like the adoptive family just duped them into signing away their parental rights. For some people, being able to be a part of their child’s life even if they aren’t raising him or her is a hugely important part of closure for them.

    Even in the late 90s, the agencies tell you that they’ll give you counseling and help during every part of the process. In my experience, the “help” I received after giving birth was limited to my social worker coming to the hospital, giving me a hard sell to sign the paperwork right that instant, and then bringing me to Dippy’s about a week afterward to make sure I was okay. In retrospect, I think that the follow up talk was to make sure I wasn’t going to try to contest the adoption. The hard sell really pissed me off, too, because I wasn’t changing my mind. I was 100% certain about what I wanted to do, and on that portion, all I can really do is be happy that I didn’t change my mind. I can’t imagine being in that position and having the agency treat you like you’re an asshole because you changed your mind (even though you supposedly have the legal right to do so).

    I’ve heard horrendous stories of how Catholic charities have handled adoption over the years, and luckily, things have changed slightly. The one good part about my personal experience is that the staff at Cooper was just wonderful. I can’t stress that enough. I don’t think I had one negative experience in Cooper hospital, or with my OB/GYN’s office.

    While I never will fully get your mom’s experiences, I am happy that she has been able to start healing. It is something that never truly leaves you, and every woman will handle it differently. I just came up to the 10 year mark sometime this summer, and it sneaks up on me from time to time. (Usually it hits me when I’m getting really stressed or if I’m really upset about something marginally related.)

    I don’t know if it might make you or your mom too upset, but The Girls Who Went Away (the book I linked to in the post) is a really good read. To be honest, I can’t get through 15 pages of reading without blubbering eyes out, but I’ve plugged my way through half of it. Even though the timeframe was a different one, it is a slight consolation to know that there are others out there who totally get what happened to me.

  • 6 Pennagal // Nov 28, 2009 at 11:06

    Please allow me to acknowledge your suffering; something that is clearly ongoing. I am truly sorry that you were hurt, and I hope you will seek help to manage your feelings about what was, for you, a horrible experience. I am not sure that resolution is possible for a woman whose child was taken from her but I do believe that some healing is possible.

    It may help you to know that your child’s birth father’s rights would have to have been terminated by the court with or without his signature. Adoptees are far less likely to go looking for their fathers; this is especially true of male adoptees who generally are far less forgiving of a male who failed to step up to the plate, so to speak. The practice of omitting the father’s name on OBCs and failing to make a clear legal determination of paternity is gradually falling away because of the number of men who, upon learning they were fathers, came forward and protested an adoption, some regaining custody.

    No one escapes adoption unscathed. But knowing is far, far better than not knowing to truth, even if it is not particularly pretty. Access to our original birth records is about identity, not about reunion. For those of us who are middle aged, it is not even remotely about medical records because they were not collected at the time of our relinquishment and the health histories of young presumably healthy parents don’t necessarily predict the future health of post-mature adult adoptees. Anything that would have been useful to know at an early time in my life was not revealed until I had discovered for myself what my DNA held in the way of medical problems, although that knowledge could have made both prevention and treatment a ready option.

    You have every right to your point of view but you are hardly representative. By your own admission you have known only a few other triad members. I have known many from all sides of the triad. Adoptees are not all seeking reunion, although some may seek connection to their families of origin particularly if their placement was unsuccessful.

    All I wanted was the truth. I was fully prepared to find that I would not be welcomed into my mother’s life. I was welcomed into my birth family, however, and the birth relatives I met were welcomed into my adoptive family. My sister was much more disappointed than I that our mother would not admit to our relationship. I respected her decision and discouraged my sister from talking to her about it. My sister thought our mother would benefit from reunion but she was unwilling to deal with it, even though she was married to our father.

    Had I been able to obtain my birth certificate when I first asked for it, some 19 years before I found my family, I would not have searched. And I have mixed feelings about that. Would it have spared my mother pain/embarassment had I not found her? Probably! Would I have been the poorer for not knowing my extended family of origin? Clearly.

    What’s wrong with adoption will not be remedied by this legislation. The “opt-out” provision means that some of those who are party to an adoption will continue to suffer in silence or continue to be denied closure. But an end to adoption secrecy will improve the practice of adoption, which will certainly continue, and its consequences.

  • 7 Ron Morgan // Nov 28, 2009 at 18:33

    I put in a bunch of years advocating for the rights of adoptees. I worked on the Oregon ballot measure that gave adult adoptees uncoditional access to their original birth certificates and on several other legislative efforts in different states. I have always felt that adoptees have the same right to access their government held record of birth that anyone else has. Period.
    I think the only reason some adoption reform activists use the medical history argument, which is NOT an adoptee rights argument, is because they don’t have a firm grasp on the concept of adoptee rights.
    I don’t care if adoptees use their original birth certificates to search for the birth parents or use them to wallpaper their bathrooms. It shouldn’t be the government’s business to intervene in the personal relationships of its adult citizens if these relationships are legal. And, all the adoption law fol de rol aside, it is legal for adult adoptees to search and contact their birth parents…
    As you note, these relationships are potentially charged and complicated. But who better to sort this out than the two adults it impacts. My biggest gripe about adoption is the state’s prolonged interest in my personal business.

  • 8 You Realize That Was A Real Live Person In There, Right? « My Birth Is Not a Crime // Dec 2, 2009 at 17:39

    [...] about self proclaimed birthmothers too.  Just not about adoptees.  Check out this entry from Drunkenatheist.com.  This old bitch can work up a whine the most entitled adoptive parent would [...]

  • 9 drunkenatheist // Dec 4, 2009 at 10:50

    The pingback illustrates every issue I have with “adoptee rights” groups. Seriously, to give an example:

    Zie responds to my line about my boyfriend, implying that I’m anti-Semitic while stating I should be anti-libertarian. Notice that the “author” was too lazy to click on the information linked (ABOUT RISK OF TAY-SACHS), and instead, decided to speak for me while insulting me all throughout.

    All too often, the loudest supporters of adoptee rights movements don’t respect the women involved. It’s ironic. The title of the “post” is “You Realize That Was A Real Live Person In There, Right?”, yet the “author” doesn’t seem to realize that the women who give birth to adoptees are real live people and not baby factories.

    The level of misogynistic horseshit thrown out there by many bitter adoptees is disgusting. I am at least grateful that none of the comments I have received here have included that shit.

  • 10 drunkenatheist // Dec 4, 2009 at 10:56

    @Cedar & Pennagal:

    Guys, just because the experience was difficult, it doesn’t mean I need therapy for PTSD, right? While the online diagnosis is amusing, it doesn’t help anything and is quite dismissive to when you’ve automatically labeled me as mentally ill.

    Also, Cedar, how on Earth is adoption not a contract? You sign a written agreement between two parties that is enforceable in a court of law. Isn’t that pretty much the definition of “contract”? I realize that things might be different in Canada, but I was never referring to Canadian law; rather, I was referring to the United States, where I live. I’m not an expert on international law and would never presume to know how the law works everywhere. I apologize if I came across as such, but I thought I was pretty clear that I was referring to the US only.

  • 11 drunkenatheist // Dec 4, 2009 at 10:59

    Oh, and also, Cedar, how the hell can you actually argue that the system and the adoption industry DON’T treat you like a broodmare? Really? Maybe things are different in Canada, in which case, awesome, but based on my reading (of many US, but some international accounts), it seems like this is a systemic problem with the way the adoption industry is run.

    Maybe your experience has been different, in which case, great, but it looks to me that my experience is a little more reflective.

  • 12 drunkenatheist // Dec 4, 2009 at 11:04

    @Ron, my biggest issue is that the state is placing a blanket response on a situation that should be dealt with an individual basis. The law is problematic and makes very little concessions for birthparents who do not want to be located and requires you to turn personal information over to the government if you do not wish to be contacted. I’m not too hep on that.

  • 13 drunkenatheist // Dec 4, 2009 at 11:13

    @Amyadoptee: My adoption is open, so a lot of your comment is moot; the information was turned over to the agency for them to give to him when he wishes. Also, I’ve never said I’d keep any information about my ex-boyfriend from my birthson.

    Your issues with passports speak more to problems with Homeland Security than a need to revamp adoption law.

    @BroadSnark: Thank you for your comment! You’ve hit the nail on the head when you stated that adoptions start with a tragedy. From the birthmother side, you’re often told that what you’re doing is a wonderful thing…a wonderful thing that has traumatized some women for the rest of their lives. No one bothers to be the least bit honest with you throughout the process, and once you’ve gone through it, the agency will try to wash their hands of you as quickly as possible. After doing a ton of reading, I think that a lot of the problems I had with my adoption process are issues that are systemic and institutionalized problems throughout the entire industry. Personally, I don’t even know if it’s possible to keep the industry intact while still ridding it of these deep-rooted problems. I think the whole system would resemble something radically different in the end. (Not that this is a bad thing.)

    Thank you again for your comment!

  • 14 joyjoy // Dec 4, 2009 at 12:11

    Why should parents who legally abandon their children be afforded any special protection from the government to protect them from the facts of their own lives?

    That doesn’t make any sense. Why shouldn’t this protection be extended to every person that has a bad memory, whether it is a war vetran or a kid that got picked on horribly in high school?

    Honestly, my least favorite brand of “feminism” is this, the type that promotes the infantilizing of women as if they are not capable of being the captains of their own lives.

    I can tell you with all sincerity that no man has ever “forced” me into making a decision not at 13, not at 15, and certainly not at 20.

    I am sorry you see yourself as a victim of your boyfriend, I certainly hope you are capable of making better decisions about the people who you choose to engage in your right of free association with. Also, personal accountability is actually freeing and helps people make wiser choices in their lives. I am sorry to see you dismiss it out of hand.

    As for the be lucky you had loving parents— Well adoption is no guarantee of that. You naivete is a bit shocking.

  • 15 drunkenatheist // Dec 4, 2009 at 13:36

    @JoyJoy: LOL. Thanks for the nonsensical, accusatory diatribe. Thanks a bunch!

  • 16 joyjoy // Dec 4, 2009 at 13:39

    It will probably make a lot more sense after you sleep it off, and you are welcome.

  • 17 Kristin // Dec 4, 2009 at 13:54

    I follow you on twitter and finally had the time and space to get over here and read your entry.
    I think you make an excellent case for not allowing adoption records to be universally opened. My sister placed a child for adoption, closed. That was 22 years ago and none of us are over that yet. I read The Girls Who Went Away and it broke my heart. I had always planned on adopting but once we started the process I realized I was not okay with how birthmothers are treated and our adoption plans are on hold indefinitely.

  • 18 joyjoy // Dec 5, 2009 at 1:21

    It is really so sad that you feel no love or compassion for your son. That you feel that your “rights” to be blocked from some bad memory trumps his rights to his identity.

    Certainly, you could have had an abortion and protected yourself and him from such an unkind reality. That would have been much more humane.

    Why on earth you think it is easier on the adoptee side of things just boggles my mind. It is no easier to be abandoned as an infant than it is on a six year old.

    As to the previous poster, her sister “placed” or abandoned 22 years ago, and it is no easier on them. For feck’s sake Seamus, why do you think it is easier on the adoptee?

    It is not. I would bet my life’s saving it is in fact harder.

    You want to deny us our rights because it hurts your fee-fees?

    Well, guess what?

    It hurts like hell to be left by your mother. Your trauma does not compare.

  • 19 Falyne, FCD // Dec 15, 2009 at 12:11

    Joyjoy, you don’t speak for all adoptees. Some of us manage to have a little compassion and empathy.

    And, frankly, it IS easier to be “abandoned” as an infant than older. I never knew my birthmother, or birthfather. I don’t have any memories of them. My folks, fucked-up as they may be*, handled this one right. They always told me I was adopted, gave me what little information they had, and that was that.

    I never developed any issues of abandonment, and, especially after passing 18 (the year my birthmother was pregnant), I can totally understand the circumstances under which she felt she had to do it (18, preggers, catholic).

    My mom’s dead now, and I’ve toyed around with the idea of trying to get in touch with my birthmom, out of a combo of curiosity and a desire to show her I’m ok (if she’s worried). But, yes, her right to privacy TOTALLY trumps my desire to dig things up. Nothing bad will come out of my status quo of not-knowing, while there’s potentially bad stuff coming from forcing myself into her life. It’s a utilitarianistic no-brainer.

    *a certain sax-playing teacher can fill in some details about my fucked-up folks, heh.

  • 20 jimm // Dec 16, 2009 at 22:44

    Great post – excellent reading! Good comments and responses.

    I am sorry for your loss. I hope for a peaceful resolution.

    I am also one of “those” adoptees who feel we deserve to have our original birth certificates upon adulthood. Not complete adoption records which may contain information otherwise protected by HIPPA, just the birth certificate.

    Simply because it’s what other adult law-abiding citizens are allowed to have. Those named on it have the same legal protection to privacy every other American enjoys. It is not about reunion, it is about equality – eliminating one last bit of state-sanctioned discrimination. Slavery is now illegal, women can vote, adult adoptees should have all the rights other law-abiding adult citizen enjoy including the right to a copy of their own official record of birth. Six states do allow adoptees their original birth certificates and none have reported problems. BTW, I know the information on my obc and no family member alive objects to me having a copy, yet state law prohibits it.

    Birth certificates were never sealed to protect the birthmothers’ identities.

    They were sealed to shield the adoptive families and adoption brokers from outside scrutiny. Anonymity for the relinquishing mother is not, nor has never been legally guaranteed in any state including New Jersey. The relinquished child retains his or her original birth certificate with birth parent(s) names listed their entire life unless adopted. Issuance of an ammended certificate is typically the last step of an adoption and those who age out of the foster care system always have their birth mother’s name on their original certificate.

    Privacy of the relinquishing mother is legally protected in all states, including those which provide obc’s to adult adoptees. Anonymity is not, in any state.

    Where is the rationale in withholding this most personal of official documents, treating this arbitrary class of adult citizens differently from all others?

    The rationale is that agencies and attorneys make billions off the adoption industry and are loath to upset the status quo. Someone made 20 grand off your kid, dear. I think that sucks. And I think it sucks that your kid should be treated any differently than anyone else in any way, but especially by the government when he becomes a tax-paying adult.

  • 21 Issycat // Dec 30, 2009 at 13:14

    Hey I’m sorry for the pain you endured but I just don’t understand why this means adoptees shouldn’t have access to their OBC’s.
    The papers that were signed do not provide confidentiality. They simply terminate any rights to the person in question. The signing away of one’s rights to a child also does not cause amnesia nor is it a magic wand that negates the fact that a mother has given birth.
    I am actually fortunate to have my OBC because my mother and I matched via our state registry. My OBC is actually somewhat de-humanizing. I am listed as “Female”. That’s my original first name, isn’t it lovely?
    Listen, adoption isn’t pretty for either party, the adoptee or the first parent. It is in fact fairly dehumanizing all around.
    Now we can sit around playing the who-has-more-pain-game or we can get down to business.
    Personally, I think it would be best if everyone put aside their own shame and pain and looked at the law and what it truly entails.
    And the TPR is not legally what you are saying it is. It just isn’t.

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