Written by an adoptive child and psychologist, Joyce Maguire Pavao, The Family of Adoption takes a look at the whole system of adoption (birth parents, adoptive parents, and adoptive children at various stages of development).  Well written and full of powerful stories to illustrate important themes in adoption.  I recommend to all involved in adoption.

Of particular interest to me was Pavao’s discussion of secrecy vs. privacy.  The history of adoption in the United States comes from a tradition of secrecy: closed adoptions, missing and intentionally omitted information on adoptive children’s birth records, social worker matching children to adoptive parents by physical traits so “no one would know,” and the taboo of talking about adoption in families.  This secrecy is one that obfuscates and that inevitably leads to confusing and painful discoveries for all involved in “the family of adoption.”

Privacy on the other hand is important to consider as a way to protect the adoptive child’s story.  Becoming an adoptive parent after a journey of travails is often an exciting moment.  In that moment there may be an effusive spilling of the details of the adoptive child’s story of arrival.  And although there is nothing wrong with sharing the story, it’s important to realize that until a child is older, the adoptive parents are the keepers of their child’s sacred story of creation.  So share carefully and with friends and family who can be trusted to hold sacred your child’s story.

For transracial families, where the adoptive parents are of a different race or national origin from their adoptive child or children, the issue of privacy comes up more often.  When a child is of a different race than the adoptive parents, people are curious and want to know the story.  There is always a moment of choice of what and how much to share in the most public of places.  I remember being asked when my child was an infant in the market or at the grocery store, “where is she from?”  Because she is biracial and I’m white, often people assumed that she was from another country, China or Guatemala, places from where it was known that people were adopting children.   She is from the good old USA, about 20 miles south of where I live.  Transracial families bump into all sorts of assumptions and public narratives.  There is a sense of others around us wanting to put us into a certain category.  The people around us want to make sense for themselves of the differences they perceive.  And although there may not be any negative intention on the part of the curious, there is always for me a desire to hold my child’s story sacred.  Adoptive parents are the stewards of their children’s story until they are old enough to decide for themselves with whom and how they want to share their story.

Sherrie Eldridge’s “twenty things” came just in time for me as I delve deeper into the world of my adopted child.  Written by an adoptive child, herself, Eldridge offers valuable perspectives in words that are hard to reach for ourselves and our children.  For parents who have not yet adopted or are in the process of adopting, this book offers valuable insights on how to begin imagining being a parent to an adopted child.  It’s a wonderful, sometimes challenging journey.  And it’s great to find some tools for the road. Great preparation for the adventure ahead.

Janis Cooke Newman’s memoire on the adoption of her son from Russia (The Russian Word for Snow) is a great read about the challenges of adopting from Russia during a turbulent political time.  Newman and her husband go home with their son at the the end of a roller coaster of a journey fraught with uncertainty and plain lack of information.  Newman captures well the emotional tides of the “waiting time,” the frustrations, the joys and surprising responses in most unusual circumstances.  Such an honest portrayal of what it means in the end to finally go home with your child that was born in your heart, and dealing with the sudden responsibilities of becoming a parent.  “How do we give him a bath?  And am I an awful parent because he cried all the way through it?”  

Published in 2001, the political players are different now, but this is a great account of the emotional, spiritual, and adminsitrative challenges of adoption and the resilience and resourcefulness of parents determined to love.