Open Adoptions Work (Even If They’re Messy at Times)

The following is adapted from Finding Hope.

I was twenty-one when I found out that I was pregnant—and not just pregnant, but over twenty weeks pregnant. It wasn’t planned, and I certainly didn’t feel like I could take care of a baby. In fact, I had never even considered motherhood as an option. I always assumed I’d be the “cool aunt.” I researched my options, and I even went to an abortion clinic, but ultimately, I realized I couldn’t go through with it. 

Somehow, I already felt attached to my son, but I also realized that my circumstances were not ideal for motherhood. I knew I couldn’t keep the baby, but I didn’t want to abort it either. So I decided on an open adoption. That way, I could give my son the best life possible, but I would still have the opportunity to be a part of his life. 

Open adoptions come with a lot of questions. How open should the adoption be, both in terms of visitation rights and in terms of the child’s knowledge of the situation? There can also be a lot of fear. For adoptive parents, it’s scary to feel like there’s someone else with rights to your child, and for a birthmother, there’s the persistent fear of losing your rights. Then, add in the fear of the child’s reaction to the whole situation. 

Fear and questions could easily deter people from open adoption, but I am living proof that it can work. My son is thriving with his wonderful adoptive mother, and we have a strong relationship. Of course, it’s not always easy. Nothing that emotional ever really is. But even when it’s messy, I am still grateful that fear didn’t stand in my way. I am convinced that people in the adoption world should open their minds to open adoption. Here’s why. 

Open Adoption Is About Addition, Not Subtraction

These are the wise words of Sharon Roszia, M.S.: “Open adoption is about the needs of a child so that they don’t have to lose a family to gain permanency—it makes adoption about addition, not subtraction. It does not diminish pain, sadness, concern, or disappointment. It requires the adults to make a healthy, trusting, honest relationship in order to benefit the child.”

I agree with Sharon—it’s all about the welfare of the child. Not knowing who you are is hard enough as you grow up without the added component of not knowing your birthparents. My mom had a friend from high school who was adopted; he didn’t find out until he needed a blood transfusion and the paperwork didn’t match. He spent his whole life feeling like he didn’t fit, like something was missing. My son’s mother and I didn’t want that for my son.

I say this from an honest place because on some level, I understand that emptiness of not fitting very well, and I don’t want that for any child. As a birthmother, sometimes I’ll be in a conversation where people are talking about their children, and I don’t know how to respond. I have a child, but he’s not with me. What do I say? Am I allowed to have a voice?

Even if it’s tricky to negotiate the boundaries of our relationships, it’s better that my son has that option in the first place. He can know who he is, and he can know that he’s loved—not just by his mother, but also by his birthmother. 

Difficult Conversations Can Still Be Healthy 

Just because something is hard, that doesn’t mean that you should avoid it. In fact, nothing about an unexpected pregnancy is going to be easy, no matter what decision you end up making. 

I have had my fair share of difficult conversations with my son’s mother. For example, I would really love for my son to meet my fiancé Boujemaa. I’ve had fantasies of him and Boujemaa at the beach, splashing in the waves. I want to bring together the two people that I love more than anything. Recently, though, my son’s mother sent me a text explaining she didn’t want my son to meet Boujemaa on our next visit. 

That was extremely hard to hear. But I know that she’s got her own set of considerations that she’s dealing with. Instead of freaking out, I simply said, “I don’t like it, but I respect you. So, I respect it.” I spoke up for my own feelings while remaining calm. And it’s all true, too—I truly do respect my son’s mother. 

Here are the facts: I miss my son. Nothing that happened was ever his fault—not one little bit. At the end of the day, my son’s mom is the best mom in the world for him. She’s doing something I felt I couldn’t do at the moment, and she’s doing a wonderful job. I feel lucky the universe gave her to my son and me. I can see it in the way she looks at him, the way she cares for him—they’ve got a connection. She makes sacrifices for him every day, making sure he can go to the best schools and have his best life. And she’ll always have my back, no matter what. Does that mean we’ll agree about everything all the time? No—but we’ll get through it just like we’ve gotten this far: together.

I Have Peace

Boujemaa and I are considering having a baby of our own—not at this moment, but maybe in the future. I know that if we choose to have a baby, it will be a beautiful and joyous experience. But I still have a fear that my son will hate me if I make that choice.

I’ve resolved myself to one fact: I have faith in that no matter what, he is my son. I am his birthmother. Nobody will ever have the bond we have—and if we hit a rough spot, we’ll get through it. There have been moments when I’ve felt like something is wrong from states or even an ocean away, and I’ve texted his mom only to learn my son is sick. We are one. Our hearts beat together.

If he gets pissed at me one day when he’s older, if he yells at me, I may deserve that—and even if I don’t, I’ll honor those emotions. And we’ll be okay, always. This knowledge and trust in our relationship has been an awakening that’s brought incredible peace into my life.

I wouldn’t have had that kind of knowledge, trust and peace without the open adoption. I would have wondered. I would have fantasized. But now, I know that we will always be connected, and through all the mess, there is incredible beauty. 

For more advice on open adoption, you can find Finding Hope on Amazon.

After placing her newborn son for adoption in 2013, Hope O Baker struggled with depression, addiction, and overcoming the stigma that surrounds birthmothers. In her first book, Finding Hope: A Birthmother’s Journey Into the Light, she shares her story of a successful, open adoption—and all the heartache and light that came along the way. Hope is a passionate advocate for those on all sides of adoption. You can find her online at HopeOBaker.com or follow her on Instagram at @HopeOBaker. Hope visits her son regularly, and she currently lives with her loving partner and her wonderful stepkids.