Thursday, December 26, 2013
Baby Scoop Era
From Wikipedia:
The Baby Scoop Era was a period in history starting after the end of World War II and ending in the 1970s and 1980s, characterized by an increased rate of pre-marital pregnancies over the preceding period, along with a higher rate of newborn adoption.
From approximately 1940 to 1970, it is estimated that up to 4 million mothers in the United States surrendered newborn babies to adoption; 2 million during the 1960s alone. Annual numbers for non-relative adoptions increased from an estimated 33,800 in 1951 to a peak of 89,200 in 1970, then quickly declined to an estimated 47,700 in 1975. (This does not include the number of infants adopted and raised by relatives.) In contrast, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services estimates that only 14,000 infants were "voluntarily" surrendered in 2003.
Solinger describes the social pressures that led to this unusual trend, explaining that women who had no control over their reproductive lives were defined by psychological theory as "not-mothers", and that because they had no control over their reproductive lives, they were subject to the ideology of those who watched over them. As such, for unmarried pregnant white girls and women in the pre-Roe era, the main chance for attaining home and marriage rested on their acknowledging their shame and guilt, and this required relinquishing their children, with more than 80% of white unwed mothers in maternity homes acting in essence as "breeders" for white, adoptive parents. According to Ellison, from 1960–70, 27 percent of all births to married women between the ages of 15 and 29 were conceived premaritally. This problem was thought to be caused by female neurosis, and those who could not procure an abortion, legally or otherwise, were encouraged to put up their children for adoption.
…
In 1970, approximately 80% of the infants born to single mothers were placed for adoption, whereas by 1983 that figure had dropped to only 4%."
In contrast to numbers in the 1960s and 1970s, from 1989 to 1995 fewer than 1% of children born to never-married women were surrendered for adoption.
Have you ever heard of this? I am sad to say I had not until recently. It makes sense in retrospect, but I suppose, not even being born until 1980, it was just not something that ever made my radar until now.
In an effort to arm myself with viewpoints from all members of the adoption triad (the adoptive parents, the birth parents, and the adopted child/adoptee), I’ve constantly been searching out articles and blogs on how to be the best adoptive parent I can be. What is important for the child? For the birth mother? What mistakes would I potentially make that can easily be avoided?
In that research, I’ve come across a very dark side of adoption history. In fact, it is so dark, that the victims of it (the birth mothers of this “Baby Scoop Era”), do not consider it a “side” of adoption, or a product only of its time. They can consider it the sole fact, the sole outcome. These mothers, now mostly in their 50s and 60s, hurt so desperately for the child they lost, most often in a very closed adoption with no knowledge of who the adoptive parents even were. Many times, these women were given no other options, even forced by their own families, to relinquish, simply because they were unmarried and pregnant.
They pain they express online is palpable. Raw. Heartwrenching. I have literally been brought to tears while reading some of their stories and the aching that echoes in their words.
I have also cried because of the absolute hate they have. The vitriol towards the other members of the triad – mostly the adoptive parents, but even towards the adoptee at times. And to be clear, these “first mothers” (the term birth mother is considered derogatory towards them, which is something I never even knew) while commonly from this Baby Scoop Era, certainly also include first mothers from current day.
It is a commonly shared belief on some of these forums that:
-Abortion is preferable to adoption. If an expectant woman truly believes she is unable to raise a child (with poverty being defined as a ‘pathetic’ excuse), she should exercise her rights to an abortion.
-There is a special place in hell for adoptive parents. We obviously have a sense of “entitlement” to another woman’s child, and throw money around for the right to yank this child out of her mother’s arms.
-Any adoptees that love their adoptive families and are well-adjusted to their adoption (which many post as such on these forums), have been “brain-washed” or drinking the kool-aid their adoptive parents & society force upon them. One commenter responded to a “happy adoptee” telling her she is deluded and in fact has experienced unrepairable loss, and is essentially a messed-up human being.
Among other things.
The expansiveness of their opinions is what I find scary. Again, the pain they have is so deep-rooted, they must vent, speak out, protest. This is their right, and a well-deserved one at that. I find it scary that a human being has experienced that level of pain. But my concern is how black and white the issue is to them. Human life and morals is grey at its core. One can judge premeditated murder as pure evil. But do you pause in your judgment when you find out that a father murdered his daughter’s rapist? The murder still isn’t the right answer, but suddenly the “evil” associated with it is softened, yes? To them, adoption is evil. It is wrong to the very core of our society, with very limited exception. They don’t believe that expectant mothers actually “choose” adoption, but are strongly coerced – by society in the Baby Scoop Era, and currently by money and slick advertising in current times.
T wants me to stop reading these blogs & forums, but I can’t. I realize these can be considered extremists in the adoption world, but there is a simple fact that they do exist, and the hurt they experienced has rocked them beyond repair. NO HUMAN should have to feel like that. Ever. My heart constantly breaks for them.
I don’t agree that makes adoption, potential adoptive parents, and adoption agencies inherently evil. Is the system messed up? Yes. Is it getting better? Debatable. Do I feel entitled to H’s baby (the woman with whom we are matched)? God, no. Do I know that, if she ultimately chooses to place her child, that we will be whole-heartedly committed to that child, our relationship with H, and our faith in God? Passionately yes. I firmly believe that the majority of potential adoptive parents are very good, honest, loving people.
I didn’t want to post any links to these forums, as I’d like to have my own little place in the blogosphere to talk about our journeys without getting drawn headfirst into this debate. But I do highly highly encourage anyone even contemplating adoption to do a few simple google searches to hear all viewpoints. I had no idea this kind of pain was out there, and I feel so much more educated now.
---------
In other news, we consistently email with H and are visiting her and the father in Florida in January. We will do a 3D ultrasound (yay!!) and just generally get to know each other. In relation to above, we make every effort to ensure H realizes that her adoption decision is hers and hers alone (with the father), and there is no sense of her owing us anything at the time of birth. But if she ultimately chooses to place, I will be so happy that we were able to get to know her during this period and beyond. We feel so connected to her already, and will always want what is best for her and her family – whatever that may be.
(And I don't think I posted this (sorry if I did!) - T and I got our results back from our recurrent miscarriage testing, since, you know, 3 miscarriages in 9 months shouldn't be considered normal, right? Well, tough shit. We're normal. Everything normal. Super normal. Perfect normal. Lovely, right?)
Friday, December 6, 2013
It's a....
GIRL! or a BOY!
Baby didn't open his or her legs really well. The ultrasound tech guesses a girl, but basically no one knows for sure.
We are going to visit H (the expectant mom) in January, so we may do a 3D session then depending on if she feels comfortable. But for now, we did indeed confirm that it is a baby, and not an alien. And for that, we opened a "top shelf" bottle of wine tonight.
Happy Friday!
Baby didn't open his or her legs really well. The ultrasound tech guesses a girl, but basically no one knows for sure.
We are going to visit H (the expectant mom) in January, so we may do a 3D session then depending on if she feels comfortable. But for now, we did indeed confirm that it is a baby, and not an alien. And for that, we opened a "top shelf" bottle of wine tonight.
Happy Friday!
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
THE Call
Last Friday, at work, I just felt like we were going to get the call. The adoption agency had T's number as their primary number, so I sat in my standard Friday morning committee meeting constantly checking my email. I was waiting for one with exclamation points in the subject line, or saying "CALL ME", or something similar. Refresh email. Only halfway listen to this week's economic update. Refresh email. Someone says "Isn't that right, C?" Mumble a response. Refresh email. Get email from T very excited that google.uk has a Doctor Who google doodle. Not exactly what I was hoping for. Refresh email. Meeting adjourns. No call.
My obsession with the adoption that day was not abated. Rather than working while back at my desk, I go to the agency website. The number of total couples has decreased. I think, maybe they take us down before they call us! and immediately click on one of the last pages where our profile would reside. My eyes scan down the page, and there we are, still smiling and hopeful. It is 11:35am.
At that VERY second where my eyes make contact with our profile picture, still hanging out on the website, my phone starts vibrating underneath a pile of papers.
It is the agency (the first one we activated with). She is cheerful. She says congratulations. She asks to conference in T. I instant message him to see what number I should use:
Holy shitsnacks indeed. 113 days after activation.
She lives in Florida. She isn't due until April. We hope to find out the sex soon, maybe even tomorrow at her doctor's appointment. We'll probably go visit sometime soon, possibly January. I'm not going to say a lot about her situation on here, as that is her business and not for me to put all over the interwebs. But we've been emailing all weekend, and I honestly already love her. She is unexpectedly articulate and well-spoken in her emails, she looks a little like me, and seems genuinely excited for us.
Things can totally change between now and April. Not until the consents are signed (48 hours after birth) is this a done deal. She can choose to parent any time before then. I will never ever ever pray that she doesn't parent. If that is what is best for this child and for her, then she SHOULD parent. I would WANT her to parent. I will just pray that if she knows deep down that is what will ultimately happen, she lets us know sooner rather than later. We are now "off the market" until April, and it will be devastating for me to lose this child then.
We sent in all of our documents and our monies yesterday and the match should be processed officially today. We're not off the website yet, but should be soon.
My therapist will likely tell me (when I see her later today) to be excited. I could be guarded, but you know what? I'm going to be disappointed if it doesn't work out no matter what emotions I allow myself to feel now. So I'm going to be excited. I'm going to be amazingly thankful this holiday. I'm going to be a mom.
My obsession with the adoption that day was not abated. Rather than working while back at my desk, I go to the agency website. The number of total couples has decreased. I think, maybe they take us down before they call us! and immediately click on one of the last pages where our profile would reside. My eyes scan down the page, and there we are, still smiling and hopeful. It is 11:35am.
At that VERY second where my eyes make contact with our profile picture, still hanging out on the website, my phone starts vibrating underneath a pile of papers.
It is the agency (the first one we activated with). She is cheerful. She says congratulations. She asks to conference in T. I instant message him to see what number I should use:
C
WE HAVE A MATCH!!!!!!!
Can you conference in???
T
Are you serious?
Conference me in baby!
C
Call your work #??
T
76926
We can chat here too
T
I keep thinking holy shitsnacks
Holy shitsnacks
Holy shitsnacks indeed. 113 days after activation.
She lives in Florida. She isn't due until April. We hope to find out the sex soon, maybe even tomorrow at her doctor's appointment. We'll probably go visit sometime soon, possibly January. I'm not going to say a lot about her situation on here, as that is her business and not for me to put all over the interwebs. But we've been emailing all weekend, and I honestly already love her. She is unexpectedly articulate and well-spoken in her emails, she looks a little like me, and seems genuinely excited for us.
Things can totally change between now and April. Not until the consents are signed (48 hours after birth) is this a done deal. She can choose to parent any time before then. I will never ever ever pray that she doesn't parent. If that is what is best for this child and for her, then she SHOULD parent. I would WANT her to parent. I will just pray that if she knows deep down that is what will ultimately happen, she lets us know sooner rather than later. We are now "off the market" until April, and it will be devastating for me to lose this child then.
We sent in all of our documents and our monies yesterday and the match should be processed officially today. We're not off the website yet, but should be soon.
My therapist will likely tell me (when I see her later today) to be excited. I could be guarded, but you know what? I'm going to be disappointed if it doesn't work out no matter what emotions I allow myself to feel now. So I'm going to be excited. I'm going to be amazingly thankful this holiday. I'm going to be a mom.
Monday, November 11, 2013
This and that and the other
Nothing's happened. No news. Bleh, bleh, bleh. And it is snowing today. I am not ready for the snow and winter and cold and blusteriness. (totally a word in my world).
Although no news does not mean we haven't been busy. A little rundown of some happenin's around these parts:
Although no news does not mean we haven't been busy. A little rundown of some happenin's around these parts:
- Most importantly, above all else, T and I side-high-fived, spontaneously, and it. was. magical. (see here for a discussion of our previous woeful attempts). We were kind of in shock when it happened, and realized if we can do that right, we really can rule the world some day.
- I knew there was a reason I was doing this blogging stuff. A lovely gal reached out to me after reading my blog, because she has some experience with adoption to share. She suggested the use of a consultant, which is a service that can help navigate these crazy mixed-up waters. The one she used never really got back to us, but I was reading about other consultants that had great feedback online. Ultimately, as of last week we are a client of a Christian consulting group. They aren't an agency; rather they basically are "in the know" of a lot of situations, and help us become active with other agencies without large upfront fees. We had to make some adjustments to our print profile in order to use it more widely, and should be sending a bunch out this week. One of the agencies required us to do some online adoption training, so we're finishing that up, and then sending our pictures of our hopeful little selves across the country.
- We are still active with American too, so that doesn't change. I checked in with our social worker there a couple weeks ago. What's happening, anything we need to consider changing, etc, etc. She emailed back, and I quote "In general, I hear awesome things about your profile. People like that you are young and active, that you have a close knit family, that T has a daughter and you are active in her life...all awesome things! I have not gotten any negative feedback at all." And we're being shown about 15-20 times per month. Yet....no matches. Sigh. Double sigh. Triple sigh. It's only been about 3 1/2 months of being active, which I realize isn't a lot, but it still hurts. Especially thinking about another holiday season gone by. 2013 has absolutely been the worst year of my life so far, and I would love to top it off with the best thing that has ever happened to me. Even it out, you know?
- Lovely gal also came back into play by suggesting I go to a local medical practice she is associated with to get my recurrent miscarriage testing done sooner. This way (rather than waiting until 2014 for even a consult), I could put it against this year's deductible (already way way way met). Score TWO for lovely gal(thanks L!). T and I actually went today, and I got about 77 vials of blood taken. T got 1. ONE. I asked if they could take some more, even if just to throw out the blood, just to make him have to work a LITTLE more. No go. Guys never have it as hard as girls. Weenies.
- I have mixed feelings about the testing. We were both 100% for it, because if I ever did get pregnant again on my own, it seems silly to just watch me miscarry if there was something that could be done about it. But, we had moved on from this fertility stuff, and it just muddies the waters a little bit. I know we won't likely actively seek fertility treatments (e.g. IVF) again, and I don't think it is fair to the adoption process if we are double-dipping. Honestly, at this point, I'd actually be kind of pissed if I got viably pregnant, because I'm hoping we are bringing home our baby less than 9 months from now.
- Work is kicking my butt lately, and I so want to just call in and tell them I'm not going to be in for 8-12 weeks, because I'm taking care of my little one. I am so thankful for my job, and T's job, and the stability we have. But once in awhile, you just want to bury yourself underneath the covers for a week and have nothing to do with them.
- My puppy (misnomer, as he's going on 12), was super sick a couple weeks ago, and had to be on an IV at the vet overnight. They never really figured out what was wrong, but told me to have him avoid running, stairs, and jumping for 3 weeks. That might have been one of the funniest things I had heard in a while, just due to the sheer impossibility of it. We got him those little stairs to use when climbing into bed (he mostly sleeps with us). He literally jumps OVER the stairs. At least if he dies from that, he'll die happy. I am so so not ready to lose him. I really hope he can stick around to meet his human brother or sister.
- Cam turned 13 last week. That deserves its own post. She is full out teenager and a half. Lord help us.
That's about it in this neck of the woods. I'm super excited to host Thanksgiving (just my parents, but still). I may blog about the food plans because I'm so thrilled to just cook and eat together. Food always makes everything good.
Happy mid-November to you!
Friday, October 18, 2013
Monday, October 7, 2013
It's been a long week
I started and stopped this blog post several times over the last several days, as I needed to write something out for my own sake, but just wasn't quite sure how to get there. Let's just say it's been a long week.
It started out wonderfully two weekends ago. We went to St. Louis to celebrate my father's 60th birthday. My parents, my brother & his girlfriend, and my dad's sister, T and I went out to dinner, went to a Cubs/Cardinals game, and just in general had a great time. Cheers to St. Louis!
I already was in a bit of a funk on the drive home. September 29th would have been the due date from our FET baby. The one that we thought totally changed our world. October 1st officially marked 2 months of being active at the adoption agency. Both just reminders that while the world flies by around us, we continue to wait.
On Sunday night/Monday morning (a week ago), I noticed something really odd. My feet were driving me crazy! My progesterone allergy was in full gear. The odd thing was is that I was nearing the end of my period, so I should have no issues at that point. The allergy should flair up about 6 or 7 days past ovulation, when my progesterone peaks, and then disappear by the time my period starts. In a normal natural cycle, I don't even really need to take medication when it peaks. It's just noticeable.
So, while I'm at work on that Monday with my feet going crazy, I'm at a super loss at what could be happening. Why my progesterone would still be elevated, and in fact higher than it was the previous several days. The logical answer for any normal person (or at least a normal person with a foot allergy to progesterone?) is that she is pregnant. Obviously not the case with me, but I dubiously stopped by the drugstore on the way home, purely so I could put that notion out of my head.
It was positive. Very light, in no way a viable pregnancy, but still positive. As in, we did it all on our own. I showed T, and since we both couldn't accept the truth, agreed that it must be the work of aliens. It was the only logical explanation.
I took another the next day and the line was almost gone. My feet stopped itching about a day after that. In the reproduction world, they call this a chemical pregnancy. The sperm and egg met, combined, and even implanted, but nothing ever really grew. My period was a little wonky and started early, which makes sense in retrospect (it represented when I was losing the pregnancy), but really didn't faze me at the time. If I didn't have the itchy feet, I would never even have known I was pregnant.
But, I do know. And now when asked how many times I've been pregnant and how many children I've given birth to, I'm officially 3 and 0.
We're still not totally sure what to think. The adoption process is certainly not stopping. I called my ob/gyn (I'm never going back to our local fertility clinic), and said I was ready for the recurrent pregnancy loss bloodwork. She seemed confused. "Are you trying to get pregnant?", she asked me. "If you aren't trying to get pregnant, I can just put you on birth control and you won't miscarry." Obviously, I'm not trying to get pregnant, but God knows I don't want to prevent a pregnancy. Trying implies that I have a belief that I may get pregnant, that effort equals success.
And I'm still pretty convinced that our 1% chance of success just manifested itself and isn't planning on coming back any time soon. But I figured we should do the bloodwork just in case. In case, I can take some blood thinners or thyroid medication or whatever it may be that could help if I ever found myself in this position again with a potentially viable pregnancy. So I made the appointment for the necessary doctor consult in January which is the first time I could get in. Ridiculous, but I doubt we are in any sort of hurry.
So, blech. That seems like the best word to summarize the situation.
It started out wonderfully two weekends ago. We went to St. Louis to celebrate my father's 60th birthday. My parents, my brother & his girlfriend, and my dad's sister, T and I went out to dinner, went to a Cubs/Cardinals game, and just in general had a great time. Cheers to St. Louis!
I already was in a bit of a funk on the drive home. September 29th would have been the due date from our FET baby. The one that we thought totally changed our world. October 1st officially marked 2 months of being active at the adoption agency. Both just reminders that while the world flies by around us, we continue to wait.
On Sunday night/Monday morning (a week ago), I noticed something really odd. My feet were driving me crazy! My progesterone allergy was in full gear. The odd thing was is that I was nearing the end of my period, so I should have no issues at that point. The allergy should flair up about 6 or 7 days past ovulation, when my progesterone peaks, and then disappear by the time my period starts. In a normal natural cycle, I don't even really need to take medication when it peaks. It's just noticeable.
So, while I'm at work on that Monday with my feet going crazy, I'm at a super loss at what could be happening. Why my progesterone would still be elevated, and in fact higher than it was the previous several days. The logical answer for any normal person (or at least a normal person with a foot allergy to progesterone?) is that she is pregnant. Obviously not the case with me, but I dubiously stopped by the drugstore on the way home, purely so I could put that notion out of my head.
It was positive. Very light, in no way a viable pregnancy, but still positive. As in, we did it all on our own. I showed T, and since we both couldn't accept the truth, agreed that it must be the work of aliens. It was the only logical explanation.
I took another the next day and the line was almost gone. My feet stopped itching about a day after that. In the reproduction world, they call this a chemical pregnancy. The sperm and egg met, combined, and even implanted, but nothing ever really grew. My period was a little wonky and started early, which makes sense in retrospect (it represented when I was losing the pregnancy), but really didn't faze me at the time. If I didn't have the itchy feet, I would never even have known I was pregnant.
But, I do know. And now when asked how many times I've been pregnant and how many children I've given birth to, I'm officially 3 and 0.
We're still not totally sure what to think. The adoption process is certainly not stopping. I called my ob/gyn (I'm never going back to our local fertility clinic), and said I was ready for the recurrent pregnancy loss bloodwork. She seemed confused. "Are you trying to get pregnant?", she asked me. "If you aren't trying to get pregnant, I can just put you on birth control and you won't miscarry." Obviously, I'm not trying to get pregnant, but God knows I don't want to prevent a pregnancy. Trying implies that I have a belief that I may get pregnant, that effort equals success.
And I'm still pretty convinced that our 1% chance of success just manifested itself and isn't planning on coming back any time soon. But I figured we should do the bloodwork just in case. In case, I can take some blood thinners or thyroid medication or whatever it may be that could help if I ever found myself in this position again with a potentially viable pregnancy. So I made the appointment for the necessary doctor consult in January which is the first time I could get in. Ridiculous, but I doubt we are in any sort of hurry.
So, blech. That seems like the best word to summarize the situation.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Dreamland
I'm sure everyone does this, but I tend to create elaborate scenarios in my head when I'm thinking about potential situations. Sometimes they are scary and spiral out of control, like when T is running late and I can't find him on "find my iphone". I tend to get carried away with thoughts that involve kidnapping by drug runners and being held captive to use his IT hacking magic to funnel money into secret Swiss accounts. Then he shows up, running late because he stopped by the store to get some groceries, and the iphone app just wasn't updating. Life is never as exciting as my daydreams (or daymares as they were).
I did this all the time before we got pregnant. I wondered how exactly I would see that pregnancy test, how T would see it, how we would communicate to each other. Would it be sunny outside? Rainy? Would a certain song be playing (we always have music playing at our house)? In that case, real life was more awesome than I ever could have dreamed - until it just wasn't.
So, now, with the wide open space of our potential adoption looming, I think about it all.the.time. We are supposed to live like normal and not let the adoption stuff overwhelm our thoughts. Ha! Not bloody likely. I googled what to do while waiting for adoption, and the number one recommendation is to "take that big trip" since you won't be able to later. Except, um, we have no money and need to save our vacation. So instead I will obsess about different scenarios.
In my head, currently, we are going to be called the week before Thanksgiving* (yes, this would be a pretty fast turnaround, but it is my dream, right?). The birth mom will have just scheduled an induction because she is overdue, so while the baby isn't born, we'll need to travel right away. She lives in Oklahoma. She has no idea what the gender of the baby is. Our car breaks down on the way, and both T and I forget to pack underwear. We arrive just as our daughter is born, and it is nothing but magic from there on out. Everyone gets along famously, and ICPC gets through paperwork fast enough that we're home the day after Thanksgiving. We live in the awesome cocoon of our new family for the next week together before T goes back to work...but it's only a few short weeks until Christmas. Merry merry merry Christmas to us.
A girl can dream, right?
*Edited after the fact. While I really wasn't correct, we did indeed get called the week before Thanksgiving. How cool is that?! :)
I did this all the time before we got pregnant. I wondered how exactly I would see that pregnancy test, how T would see it, how we would communicate to each other. Would it be sunny outside? Rainy? Would a certain song be playing (we always have music playing at our house)? In that case, real life was more awesome than I ever could have dreamed - until it just wasn't.
So, now, with the wide open space of our potential adoption looming, I think about it all.the.time. We are supposed to live like normal and not let the adoption stuff overwhelm our thoughts. Ha! Not bloody likely. I googled what to do while waiting for adoption, and the number one recommendation is to "take that big trip" since you won't be able to later. Except, um, we have no money and need to save our vacation. So instead I will obsess about different scenarios.
In my head, currently, we are going to be called the week before Thanksgiving* (yes, this would be a pretty fast turnaround, but it is my dream, right?). The birth mom will have just scheduled an induction because she is overdue, so while the baby isn't born, we'll need to travel right away. She lives in Oklahoma. She has no idea what the gender of the baby is. Our car breaks down on the way, and both T and I forget to pack underwear. We arrive just as our daughter is born, and it is nothing but magic from there on out. Everyone gets along famously, and ICPC gets through paperwork fast enough that we're home the day after Thanksgiving. We live in the awesome cocoon of our new family for the next week together before T goes back to work...but it's only a few short weeks until Christmas. Merry merry merry Christmas to us.
A girl can dream, right?
*Edited after the fact. While I really wasn't correct, we did indeed get called the week before Thanksgiving. How cool is that?! :)
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