Difficult Father Issues

Today’s story – my 13 year old’s biological father wants to terminate his parental rights and the only way the state will allow that to happen is if my husband adopts my child. This is not something I ever wanted to happen and I tried very hard to avoid things getting to this point.

In the past under joint custody, he has refused to consent to therapy, refused to allow the children to take their medication, changed their class placements against their will, withdrawn them from extracurriculars, cancelled doctors appointments, picked up their glasses from the eye doctor and then, refused to give them back to us, etc… it’s just been a lot. At this point, he also hasn’t seen our child for the last four years, by his own choice. My husband is already raising my child and has been for most of their life. They already live here 100% of the time. So, logistically, this would not change anything.

If we do the adoption, I will be able to get my child back in therapy, to help them begin to work through all of this. Also with the adoption, comes the option for them to change their last name. They have their biological father’s last name. They are ADAMANT that they want to get rid of his last name and take mine. I did not change my name, when I got married. So it isn’t my husband’s last name. My last name is pretty important to me. I never knew my biological father or anything about him, and my mother did not raise me (I was a kinship adoptee). My last name has always felt like a connection myself, if that makes sense. It’s one of the very few things I can trace through generations and say ”this is where I came from.” My child knows this and I think wants to have a part of that as well.

All of that said, I feel weird about changing their name. So, I wonder if I should encourage them to keep his last name. There is a lot of trauma and hurt associated with that name for them. My hesitation is – do I feel they are old enough to have the final say in this. I really never wanted this for them and I am feeling horribly guilty about all of it.

Someone shared their personal experience – My husband adopted my child (this was an adult adoption), we asked their input and what they wanted. We made it clear it was 100% their choice and in no way did we want to influence such a big decision either way but we discussed scenarios and options in length and made them wait a while to make sure they still wanted it changed and it wasn’t out of spite or anger or a split second decision.

This is a different scenario than an adoption of a young child who cannot consent (this was really hard for me to accept but necessary to understand). Your child is consenting and wants their name changed. Names are very triggering, even for my adult child, when they hear their original name it always makes them lose their breath. It is ok to change their name, it’s ok!

Another person confirmed – in my state the court will not terminate the parental rights of a father, if there is a step-parent who could adopt. A father can’t terminate his rights without adoption because legally, it leaves the child fatherless. It’s something that, if allowed, could lead to parents requesting termination to avoid being required to support their children.

A Reality Check

So a struggling mother asks – Is it wrong to give your kid up for adoption if you deal with depression/anxiety and don’t really have much help ? A part of me feels like I will get over everything and be just fine .. another part of me wants to give my kid up for adoption so that they can have 2 parents and grow up in a loving home with good opportunities. Is any of it feasible ?

The reality – Adoption won’t guarantee a better life for your child, only a different one. Adoption is random. Hopeful adoptive parents are not evaluated for mental health, as biological parents are when Child Protective Services is after their kids. Also, divorce is just as common for adoptive parents as it is for everyone else.

Adoption is permanent.

So, you could give your kid away to some random strangers, then go on to win the lottery, meet the love of your life, and meanwhile the adoptive parents could get divorced, lose their jobs, your kid could be raised by an alcoholic hoarder who won’t allow any contact with you, and then when they do find you, they could resent you for depriving them of the life they could have had with you.

Someone else who suffers from depression/anxiety admits – I go through this thought process with every episode. It’s so hard. Adoption doesn’t always equal better.

Someone who experienced both foster care and adoption notes – People have all sorts of reasons to justify giving up their child. They often sell themselves the line that 2 parents are better than a single one, or they are better off because I am dealing with x/y/z. Your kids love you in spite of all of the hard things in life, and honestly, if its something you struggle with – they likely will too. And no one is better to help them navigate it than their birth parent because often times adopted parents just gaslight their kids and don’t get them the proper therapies and then, its compounded by attachment trauma too. Hugs. You are a good mom no matter how you are struggling because you love your kids enough to ask tough questions about your own mental and emotional health. That’s more than most hopeful adopted parents will ever do!

The issue of abortion often comes up in adoptee circles with a variety of opinions. Comparing the trauma on the biological mother of placing her child for adoption as opposed to what she might feel after having an abortion – studies have found that 95+% of people who’ve ended their pregnancies, have no regrets and felt nothing but relief.

One adoptee says – I’ve had an abortion, I don’t regret it at all. Sure, I sometimes wonder what might have been, but I’m not sad about it at all. At least there’s nobody out there wondering why they weren’t good enough to be anyone’s first choice.

Yet another who aged out of foster care, and was never adopted, says – I’m really really grateful and lucky to have not been aborted. For me, I don’t know if its right to decide for someone without their choice that they’re better off dead than adopted.

Then an all-of-the-above person notes – This is hard… I believe that if someone has never had a child they might regret their abortion. I’m a biological mom and an adoptee … I have my own child I parent, I have a biological child that was given up for adoption, and I had an abortion. By far my abortion was the easiest on me emotionally and mentally. I have been tormented emotionally and mentally by the adoption that turned out a total lie regarding it’s openness. I think about her every single day. I wish I would have aborted her but I was selfish. Of course, I would also rather have kept her, if I had the right mindset then. Hindsight is 20/20. But I also know that if I had never given her up, then I wouldn’t have chosen to have an abortion so easily the next time because giving up another child would have never happened again or I’d be dead. But I know, if I had aborted the child I gave up, I would probably have huge regrets because I wouldn’t know how awful it was to give a child up to adoption.

It always is a matter of perspective and circumstance. This blogger notes – I have a biological, genetic daughter that I surrendered to her father due to my own financial struggles (he refused to pay child support, I went into an employment where I could not take her along with me. I was seeking a financial gain that would support us both – I did not foresee leaving her with her paternal grandmother would become her father’s non-legally mandated permanent custody). Then, I had an unplanned, unexpected pregnancy with no interest expressed by that father-to-be. I did end that one with an abortion. Later on in life, in a better marriage and with good financial circumstances, I gave up my genetics to allow my husband to become a biological, genetic father through assisted reproduction. Many women have multiple varieties of reproductive experiences. I do believe ALL women deserve a legal private choice in all reproductive matters.

Why Is It Different Here ?

How come infant adoption doesn’t exist in countries with social safety nets??

Because women don’t willingly give up babies without coercion and desperate circumstances.

The point above is that many countries outside the US have less than 200 adoptions annually…some only a handful. WHY?

Because they don’t allow it to be a multi billion dollar industry
It is NOT privatized
It is illegal to adopt on your own – no internet/friend matches
They have a social support system to help families stay together.

Some additional comments –

The social nets in the US need serious overhaul. I work in a hospital and some of the situations I’ve seen people in are heartbreaking, infuriating, sickening. It makes sense that countries with ACTUAL support see fewer broken families all around.

It was sad to see this one – I wish it was like this everywhere. I’m from Ukraine and it’s a sh*tshow – lots of kids abandoned, horrific dysfunction, zero support. It’s terrible.

Safety nets include but are not limited to: proper science based sex ed, access to birth control of the patients choice, access to medical care, plus abortion accessibility. Access to housing and therapy. I have found a lot of people assume support is $$$ and while that is true to a degree, it is not the whole picture. Building community is the best thing we can do. To which someone else noted – but realistically money solves a ton of issues.

From an adoptee – Safety nets and social resources are so important. It is deeply disturbing that we pay so much lip service to “children are our greatest resource” and pretending that we are all about “family values,” but when push comes to shove, it’s really about greed and selfishness. We need to elect politicians who are more interested in people than money and power.

A transracial adoptee notes – I hate it when they try to make it seem like there are soooo many abandoned babies. Even if there is an expectant mom who wants to give birth (which how many pregnant people are truly willing to give birth, especially in a country with a high mortality rate, to just relinquish the baby) but does not want to parent (as in they have the ability/support/the means to parent but truly do not want to & wouldn’t/couldn’t abort), then what about the father? And if he really absolutely does not want to parent, do they really not have a single family member or honestly even close family friend who would take in the baby? Like the leap to having absolute strangers adopt the baby is just too much for me honestly. I frankly find it a bit hard to believe that there are so many situations where there are 2 capable expectant parents who simply don’t want parent and for not a single family member be capable/willing to take care of the child.

Another explains – it’s the private adoption industry taking the foster care statistic of approximately 100,000 post-Termination of Parental Rights youth in this country, and just conveniently not mentioning that almost none of them are babies or toddlers. And then, if challenged, they will say ‘but this prevents them from ending up in foster care, aging out without a family,’ although I imagine that would not be relevant to the majority of parents who relinquish privately.

Which brought this recognition – I’ve actually found it incredibly bizarre how some very educated and intelligent people in my life, people who understand systems of oppression in regards to other demographics, a) don’t seem to get that no one gets pregnant to happily turn around and relinquish and b) refuse to understand that different age groups in the foster care system likely have different needs and require different approaches.

And this story from an expectant mother – I’m 42, expecting my 4th. My 1st, I was a single mother when her father left when she was 15 months old. I was a single mother for 10 years when I met my husband. But I thrived. I had a career, bought my own house, could afford a comfortable life. When I married, we had 2 boys over 8 years of marriage. My husband comes from a long line of mental illnesses, which he inherited. Both our boys are special needs, ASD among others. I’m in the middle of a long divorce as my husband is dragging it out and controlling it all as long as he can. I’m now a single mother for a second time. Eventually started casually seeing someone and got pregnant the second time we were together. He immediately jumped ship and was adamant he doesn’t want anything to do with it. Doesn’t want to be on the birth certificate. Nothing. This pregnancy will make me a single mother for essentially a 3rd time, at the age of 43. I am over being a single mother. I don’t want to do this for 40 years straight. I am older. I have no family that would take a baby. I had zero interest in abortion, I live in a state where it’s still legal, but that’s not something I agree with and I couldn’t live with myself. So, yes, I’m the mom that would carry to term just so I wasn’t killing the baby. I also couldn’t live with the what if’s with adoption. So I’m simply left with parenting. Do I want to? No. It’s simply the only option that doesn’t leave me with what ifs for the rest of my life. I fit everything you said is a far stretch. Father does not want, I would not abort, I have already been a single mother most of my entire adult life, so I know I CAN do it, but I don’t want to anymore. I’ve lived that phase of my life. I’m currently reliving that phase of my life with 2 challenging kiddos. And now, my awful luck has me starting all over again a 3rd time. And being in this position, I’ve come to realize there are lots of older women in my position for different reasons. Thought they went through menopause, Birth Control failed, whatever. Married, divorced, there are lots of us. So many people think this is a “young mom” issue, but there is an older crowd no one considers because we aren’t the norm.

Another agreed – the majority from the statistics I’ve seen who are getting abortions are married or divorced older women. I don’t see many choosing adoption at that age.

And a perspective from the United Kingdom – The UK has plenty of adoption, largely because our social services and safety net are so full of holes, struggling families don’t get help and their kids get taken away. What we don’t have is abandoned babies or people voluntarily giving up their infants. Because we have free, readily available abortion for people who really don’t want a kid, free healthcare (even if the government is currently running the service into the ground) and enough of a basic safety net (however fraying) that is usually sufficient that people who choose to give birth don’t feel they have to then give away their children due to poverty. I have a mountain of criticism for the ways our society is failing families, and letting them fall apart, but I still look at the United States in horror at how much worse it is.

Missing Dad

Father’s Day is Sunday, June 18th. Today, I read this in my all things adoption group from an adoptee – Fathers day this Sunday. I’ve been crying on and off all day, heartbroken that another father’s day will be spent without my dad. My adoptive dad is a good dad. It took work and therapy but both of my adoptive parents are trying to prove they have changed.

But I just want a hug from my dad. All I’ve ever wished for is a hug from him. He knows I want contact, says his schizophrenia and addiction are bad at the moment. He wasn’t an addict until I was 10/11. Because he knew he’d never see me again.

My mum put me in foster/adoptive care behind his back, when I was 6 months old. She abused me and he tried to take me out of the house. So she called the police, lied about it and they told him he had no rights to take me. I know my mum should never have had custody, but I didn’t need to be adopted. My dad was such a capable man and I hate the fact I’ve missed out on 23+ years with him.

The year was 2000 and she later adds more detail – My mum also lied about him sexually abusing me, after he reported her beating me and was saying he’d take me out of the house. The police said, if he left with me, they’d charge him with kidnapping. His whole foster family were wanting temporary custody, while he got his meds right and my mum chose to lie and put me in care with others instead.

She later explains – he wants contact but doesn’t want to hurt me, not realizing this is rejection and hurts me more. I want to respect his wishes of no contact but at the same time, I feel I’ve always put others before me and I deserve answers.

Someone replied – Just keep in mind that his disease is not your fault and it’s not a representation of his feelings for you.

Another adoptee admitted – my biological mom was schizophrenic and the removal of her kids spiraled her into addiction as well. I never met her. Only spoke to her on the phone.

blogger’s note – schizophrenia matters to me personally. It appears that it was latent but that an accident triggered it into an active state with my youngest sister. It really is a complicated situational relationship, when one has a family member caught up in the effects.

Wondering and Asking Questions

Liann Ross

Today’s blog comes courtesy of LINK>Right To Know – who believe that “It is a fundamental human right to know your genetic identity.” I totally agree and that is what drove me to discover my own adoptee parents’ (both were adopted) origins.

She writes – “In 1998, my sister let it slip out that my parents were divorced for 3 years before I was born, thinking I already knew. I only started wondering and asking questions like…what were the circumstances of my conception ?” I remember when I was in middle school, I discovered that I had been conceived out-of-wedlock by counting the months between when my parents married and when I was born – 7, not 9.

She writes that in 2005, her Dad passed away. She says that was when she started wondering whether or not he was her biological father. Her mom was in the early stages of dementia due to Multiple Sclerosis. Her sister asked the question for her – “Is it possible that Dad is not Liann’s biological father”? Her mom immediately said, “I know he’s not”.

Liann does feel that she was lucky to be able to have a conversation with her mom and that her mom was even able to give her some answers. She was a product of an affair with a married Jewish man. So much like my own dad, who’s mother had an affair with a married man much older than her.

In 2017, she did the 23 and Me test. So much of what I know about my own origins is thanks to inexpensive commercial DNA testing. 23 and Me brought me much of what I now know about my dad’s mother through my own genetic cousins. In 2018, she did Ancestry’s DNA. I have also done both and really one should do both as what they can get from each is different. She discovered a half-brother but was asked to keep what she now knew about her genetic father a secret as he was still married and the couple had worked through years of his infidelities.

The problem for Liann was that the whole goal of her own journey was to no longer be “the secret”. So she did personal work on her own self-esteem so that she could get to a place in her own heart where she would be able to handle rejection, if that came her way again. She needed to be strong enough in who she knew herself to be, that she would know deeply that whatever her genetic relatives response to her was, it was not about her, who and how she is.

In September 2021, she sent her half-sister (who she had been asked to keep the secret from by her half-brother) a Facebook message explaining who she was, as delicately as possible given the circumstances of her own existence. Her half-sister did respond, though understandably shocked by the revelation and started asking questions. She notes that – while it was a very sensitive situation, the communication had a very different vibe than with the half-brother.

She was in therapy but her therapist ended up NOT being the right one for her. She says there is no way to understand and it is difficult trying to work through the depth of trauma this knowledge causes. She spent many years, sorting through memories and connecting the dots for her own self. She is exploring alternative modalities of healing (including inner child work/shadow work and ancestral trauma), support groups for those who experience a non-paternity event, learning self-love and connecting more deeply to her authentic self.

She admits – Finding out the man who raised me is not my biological father caused my foundation to crumble from underneath me. I had to put the puzzle pieces of my foundation back together without having the picture of what it should look like. She ends on this positive note – If there is one thing I realized through this journey, is how much of a hero my Dad actually was in my life. He raised me without question, and I know deep down he knew. That’s the kind of man he was. I feel him with me all the time and I see his name everywhere. I feel the connection we have now is even stronger than I could have imagined.

Double Whammy

An adoptee writes – “My birthday was a few days ago, and with Mother’s Day this weekend, there are a lot of complicated emotions flying around.”

Some background from the adoptee – I was adopted at birth by my aunt (my genetic mom’s sister) and uncle, and moved several states away. I was given a new name, new Birth Certificate, the whole works. My adoptive parents had been trying for a baby, and since my original mom didn’t have the resources (job, place of her own) they asked to adopt me. A month after I was born, my adoptive parents ended up pregnant with my brother. My sister followed a year later. I do not look like anyone in my adoptive family and I never felt like I fit in or belonged. I was treated way differently than my siblings. My adoptive mother passed away when I was 19. Since then, I’ve had a mediocre relationship with my adoptive dad, barely there communication with my brother, and my sister won’t acknowledge my existence.

I was a rebellious, angry teen, and my issues carried over into adulthood. I caused my family a lot of pain, but had no idea that any of my issues were likely caused by trauma. That said, I take responsibility for my decisions, own up to them, and have repaired relationships where possible. Still, I have lived most of my life filled with shame and thinking I am defective and a bad person regarding some of the choices I’ve made.

After years of therapy for depression and anxiety, a wonderful therapist suggested that my lifelong issues could be a result of adoption trauma. I brushed her off, saying “My adoption happened a long time ago. I’ve dealt with it. I’m fine.” And she gently replied, “No, I don’t think you are.” And so it was, that I started coming out of the fog five years ago, right around the time I turned 40.

I have always known who my mother was, but never got to know her and have only met her three times. The first was when I was 3. She visited with her new husband so that she could come clean about her “past.” The second was when I was 15. I was in the throes of angsty adolescence and started having issues around my identity. The whole purpose of my visit was to talk to her openly about my adoption, but…although her husband knew I was her daughter, she would not acknowledge that I was his sister to my half brother, who was 10 years old at the time. I had to tiptoe around for a week while he called me “cousin.” More shame. The last time I saw her was at my adoptive mother’s funeral, almost 26 years ago. We talk here and there, mostly on Facebook, but I literally don’t feel anything for her. She still talks of giving me up as being “the best thing” for me, without acknowledging the harm. I realize she was in an impossible situation, but just to have her see me, acknowledge the hurt I experienced and continue to deal with, would mean so much.

Being Fatherless

From Huffington Post LINK>I Was Told My Father Was A ‘Deadbeat.’ After He Died, I Found Out Everything I Knew About Him Was Wrong. “In the foster care system, being a fatherless daughter was the status quo.” by TJ Butler.

Growing up, all I knew about my father was that he was a “deadbeat.” My parents divorced when I was 4. He was a musician, playing bass in rock and country bands ― the only job he’d ever had ― and child support payments were always contentious. I remember Mom complaining that Dad would show up to the court hearings wearing torn jeans and T-shirts. In one hearing in the ’80s, she was awarded less than $70 for two children, based on his income. (blogger’s note – I remember being awarded $25/mo, when I didn’t ask for child support at my divorce because I knew he would never pay it and I wasn’t going to spend my life in court fighting for it.)

When I was a few years older, my younger sister and I spent an occasional weekend with him. I have little recollection of the infrequent visits, but I have colorful memories of his apartment. Framed Beatles albums covered the walls, sharing space with antique Civil War memorabilia and his many bass guitars. My stepmother, who I thought of only as “my father’s new wife,” was beautiful; the coolest adult I’d ever met. When I got my first period at 10, she was the one who explained how to use tampons.

Like my father, my mother entered a new relationship shortly after my parents divorced. But her boyfriend was an alcoholic, prone to verbal abuse and physical violence. At 13, I ended up in foster care, living in group homes and residential children’s centers. There was little talk of family reunification during those years; the night I left my mother’s house at 13 turned out to be the last time I ever slept there.

The group homes and children’s residential centers where I lived during my teens focused on independent living. As I neared 18, I learned about adulting: grocery lists, budgeting money for rent and utilities, and how to write a resume. In the system, communication with family members is regulated. Since I didn’t grow up with him and he didn’t seem interested, none of my counselors or my social worker encouraged me to have a relationship with my father. Being fatherless was just another box to check when I filled out questionnaires for therapy.

When I aged out of foster care, I was angry, but it was directed inward. Rather than hurting others, I hurt myself. There were drugs and alcohol, body piercings and tattoos, and years of nude modeling. A decade later, I had an epiphany that I couldn’t continue the way I was living and quit the adult business. I took out my piercings and had my most visible tattoos removed. I finished a BA in management, secured a corporate job with good benefits, and married my wonderfully supportive husband.

When my father died in 2011 of Parkinson’s with Lewy body dementia, I didn’t go to his funeral. My feelings were confusing. Why was I sad that a man I hardly knew passed away? It took some time to realize that I wasn’t crying over the loss of a father. Instead, it was the realization that now he’d never be able to change his mind and become my dad.

Moving forward, she decided she wanted to meet her half-brother. Rather than admit that she planned to drive 700 miles to see him out of the blue, she told him she had “a writing thing” near him and asked if he wanted to meet for coffee while she was in town. He agreed. She was excited and nervous, and eager to learn about what life was like growing up with their father. He began to fill in the blanks about their father. The person she’d known little about transformed from a deadbeat into a man. She learned how good-natured he was before he got sick and about how their house had been the magnet for kids in the neighborhood to hang out. He told her that he could see a lot of their father in her face. Since she felt she didn’t resemble the people on her mother’s side, she was thrilled to finally look like someone she was related to. (blogger’s note – this is a common experience among adoptees in reunion as well – having a genetic mirror.)

She goes on to share – I began seeing a therapist to work out some issues with my mother. Although it wasn’t family therapy and we didn’t connect, my perspective changed dramatically. I saw her as a flawed human, rather than simply a bad mother. This new way of thinking answered many questions about why I ended up in foster care and why she chose not to let me come home. This clarity has brought me some closure. She ends with how meeting her half-siblings was “about connecting with a family who welcomed me with open arms. Spending time with them gave me something that wasn’t even on my radar to wish for. For the first time in my life, it felt like I belonged somewhere.”

Seeking A Different Outcome

A woman lost her firstborn child to Child Protective Services when she was 17, after having been abandoned by her abusive father. Part of the reason for losing the child then was poverty – no crib or medical insurance. She also had untreated mental issues. She has been in therapy since she was 18 and her therapist will support her now – 6 years later. She is now 3 1/2 months pregnant with her second child and understandably afraid of losing this child as well or that they’ll bring up her mental health issues from the past. This child’s father is not the same one as her first child’s father and is supportive of her. She gets SSI income and her boyfriend is a line cook. Because they are on a tight budget, she is buying what she can in preparation for her baby, as she can. How can she avoid a repeat experience ?

A response came from a woman who works in primary care settings. She has seen cases where if the parent previously lost a child to the Div of Health Services, that parent comes under heightened scrutiny. Suggestions – If you are going a regular OB clinic or community clinic, show up for every single prenatal appointment, stay on top of scheduling. Make them aware of the regularity/consistency of your therapy appointments. I personally would not meet with or trust their social or behavioral health person – keep them at arm’s length until you get a good read as to whether they seem genuinely interested in helping with you. It seems you have good support already, so don’t even go there. If you feel you have to appease them and must meet with one, just be prepared to say all the areas you have covered already. Don’t express vulnerability or what you don’t have. Better to go through trusted community organizations if you need physical items, housing resources, etc. Expect to have to do a Urine Analysis at some point. Avoid using any substances including marijuana that might get you flagged.

I am a big fan of midwives and so I liked this suggestion – seek out a birth center or better yet a home birth midwife. You can meet them for a consultation (no pressure to pick that one). Wait until you find one you think you could have a trusting relationship with. They won’t have access to all your medical records. They are more focused on supporting you as an individual. The less contact with nosy/intervention happy medical people, the better in your case. If you end up needing to birth in a hospital, a good midwife ought to be a good advocate for you in that setting, even though it is also a high risk setting for Div of Health Services involvement/hospital staff scrutiny.

If she is in a conventional medical care setting, the woman suggests be one step ahead with all the baby item planning. Having the car seat well in advance, like by 30 weeks, and schedule a car seat installation safety check (you can find them by searching “car seat safety clinic” they are often done at fire departments). If she signs up for WIC (which pays for formula), she needs to be aware that they are another scrutinizing entity that could represent a threat.

The biggest poverty factor to control for is housing stability. If you rent, is your lease month to month or year long? Being on good terms with your landlord can smooth inspections. Best have a Plan B. Make certain savings could cover a move, if needed. Or have a support network, one that would allow you stay with a stable family that is considered “safe”.

Additional suggestions from another with behavioral health work within a primary healthcare setting – No one can report a thing until the child is born. Be careful about what releases you sign. No one can talk to anyone about you without your release – unless it becomes a mandated report. If you sign releases, you are at risk. Therefore, any releases need to be very specific. Don’t sign blanket things like “service coordination.” Instead say what services you want coordinated.

This woman disagreed with some of the previous advice – I don’t agree with universally declining behavioral health services, because those services can be helpful for connecting with community based programs for things like car seats, help with food insecurity, clothing, etc. If your ongoing therapist is well connected, and knows what programs are available within your community, they may be able to serve in that role. In that case, it is appropriate to explain that you are in regular behavioral health care already.

There will likely be complete screenings as a routine part of your care to look at maternal stress/perinatal mental health concerns. They may also be helpful in holding the balance of psychotropic medication/medication choices, while you are pregnant, if that is part of your typical mental health treatment plan. You can consider signing a very specific and narrow release with your therapist, but generally, I would limit it only to things like medication, pregnancy health, dates of service. I would not allow your therapist to release your progress notes, progress summaries, treatment plans unless there is a compelling reason to do so.

Some Origins Aren’t Happy

Being a domestic infant adoptee is hard enough but image that you met your biological mother but were told that you were a product of rape and that she wouldn’t go into any more detail about your biological father. This adoptee would rather know the truth than always wonder. Therefore, she asks what other adoptees have done when faced with a similar situation. Did they just let it go or bet a DNA test ? She admits that her biggest fear is that 50% of my DNA is monster and that now she has passed that on to her own children.

Some responses –

I wouldn’t condemn yourself for the crimes of your origin. There’s been several studies on the impact of nurture vs nature. The best way to deal with some things in life beyond our control is to just acknowledge them. You don’t need to accept it, you don’t need to approve it. Just know it and understand what that information means to you and what you will do with it essentially.

Another shared – A very dear friend was always told she was the product of incest. She did DNA testing for other reasons and has found a whole other family that never knew she existed. It’s been difficult for her to navigate but she is glad to be in reunification. The stories we hear about us form our ideas about the world and as the stories evolve sometimes our identities and the world we see changes too.

Then there was this – I’m an admin of a large adoptee only group, and this narrative is sadly not uncommon. Now, your mother may well have been abused, however many women are so heavily shamed that they were left with invent a story that makes what they did (have sex!!) appear more socially acceptable, to them and their (judgmental) family. It’s actually more common than imagined. That said, I’d highly recommend having a trusted therapist in place before exploring – to guard your mental health no matter the outcome. Personally, my mother won’t even say my father’s name. He was a major player. AND I have a relationship with his side of the family, which I value. Take your time.

Another adoptee admitted – My biological mom told me I am the result of rape also. And I’m inclined to believe her, because that’s a heavy burden to carry and I want to believe she wouldn’t lie about it. She did, however, give me his name and I found and spoke to him, and naturally his side of the story was very different than hers. I don’t know where in the middle of both of their stories the truth is, and that will probably eat at me for my entire life.

Then this one – While my mom didn’t say she was raped, she did tell me that my father was a pretty shitty human. They started dating when she was 15 and he was 21. Two years later she got pregnant, thought they were headed to get married, but instead got blind sided by him telling her that he was already married with an infant and a pregnant wife, and that he was also heading to prison for armed robbery. I did do DNA tests and found his side. He passed about a year before I found him. I’m still back and forth on whether I wish I’d had the opportunity to meet him or if I’m relieved I don’t have to make that decision. I did find both of those siblings, along with another younger brother (yet another mom) and a bunch of nieces and nephews. As big of a surprise I was to them, they have all been wonderful and welcoming. I don’t know if this helps but I don’t regret finding all the answers.

Some more encouragement – It’s okay to feel like you deserve answers, because you do – even if the answers are uncomfortable or hard to hear her give you. DNA testing helped me find family and get a few more sides to my adoption story than the one I had initially. Your mother may absolutely be telling you the truth, and I’m absolutely not saying to doubt that. I’m also very much a “believe all women” type. But if you feel a nagging that there’s more to the story than you’re aware of, it’s okay to seek answers. Good luck.

More about the potential realities – My biological mom will not tell me any details, although I do believe her that it was rape now. It’s frustrating not to know details of who this person was, but it’s painful for her to talk about it and she said she will never tell me. I’ve done a DNA test, not specifically to find him, but I didn’t get any additional information by doing so. At the moment, I’m just letting it go.

Doing The Hardest Work For One’s Self

This really does make me think of my mom’s life with her adoptive mother . . . and then there is that painting of me . . . the story below is not my own, though at the bottom is a snippet about me as well.

It took a near death experience (21 days intubated for covid pneumonia while pregnant) and the loss of my 3 year old the very day I came home from the hospital for me to admit I even needed therapy. Though the therapist accepted me based on my grief trauma, most of our time has been spent discussing my childhood.

So many pieces finally fell into place this week. It’s like I wasn’t even aware I HAD all the pieces I needed, much less did I know where to put them. I did some sleuthing to try to get a clearer picture of my very early childhood, because my story was withheld from me and only presented in a very fragmented way.

The messages and calls to the courthouse, the man listed as father on my birth certificate, my sister, her stepmother, and finally the man who raised me yielded little in the way of real answers. The woman who physically abused me caught wind that I was digging and contacted me. She sent FOUR PAGES on bullshit which started off as a sideways apology and ended with her basically saying it was my fault she tortured me. I was 2.

“Dad” (guy who raised me, my sister’s uncle) came the closest to answering my questions of them all. We hadn’t talked for 3 years prior to this. Even when I nearly died, he wouldn’t reach out to check on me. He included in his message a sappy story about how much he sacrificed for me. He insinuated I didn’t care about my sister’s pain, and he closed with a reprimand about how I should feel sorry for HIM because he lost a grandchild. He only met my son once, by his own choice.

My first few years with them were a fantasy. “Mom” hand made my clothes. I looked like I belonged in a magazine. My hair was brushed and arranged until it was glossy ringlets. There were ribbons, bows, ruffles, tights, pinafores, and patent leather shoes. My bedroom was fit for a princess. There was a 4 post bed with a canopy. It was white with burnished gold accents, as was the matching vanity and stool. The bed covering was white and pink ruffles, and the canopy was tailor made to match. Christmas, Easter, and birthdays looked like the toy store exploded into our living room. I had it all.

Once I reached that awkward, gangly phase, it was over. By then they had their own daughter and son, and I was a nuisance. No longer a doll they could dress and pose. I could sense their disappointment. Their delight in me was gone. So I tried harder. I won more awards, I practiced music longer, I earned higher scores in school. The more I tried, the more disgusted they seemed.

I looked back over all the big milestones that mark the transition from childhood to maturity. In my high school graduation photos, he looked angry. In my wedding photos, he looked sick. When my children were born, he didn’t want to see them. When I chose a path for how I would spend my life, it wasn’t good enough. When I chose to move to a new state with better opportunities, I was being foolish. When he finally came to visit my first house, he literally became ill and vomited all over my bathroom.

I failed them. By growing up, I failed them. They treated their children like people, and they celebrated them appropriately in both youth and adulthood. I finally put it all together this week and realized I’ve intentionally kept myself small in my mind, because somewhere deep down I knew that only as their little princess could I feel their love.

I dug through my old pictures and found so many of me paraded in beauty pageants. But this is the one I settled on. It was taken the month after they got custody of me, in their home. I told her – little Sandi – that her work is done. It was never her job to make me palatable to the parents who stole me. I understand why she did. Her life was an exercise in terror, and these white knights were her ticket to salvation. But it was never her job to earn their love, and that isn’t her job now. So she has my permission to rest peacefully. I grew within the soil where they planted this little seed. It’s my turn to do the work of deciding who is worthy of my best efforts.

From the blog author – As a young child, my mom’s adoptive mother dressed and arranged me for a large oil painting portrait she wanted to do of me but now having read today’s story, it speaks volumes. And my mom did have a princess bedroom with a four poster bed. I know that my mom had a very “challenging” relationship with her adoptive mother. She really didn’t share many details of her childhood with me. That probably means something significant as well.