Day 19: On Adoption: Agreeing to Disagree

I had a friend in high school with whom I lost touch for many years, reconnecting again some time ago.  A lot had changed - she had since given birth to a baby while in college and given him up for adoption, and was currently undergoing radical surgery to save her life from a rare cancer that had spread through many crucial internal organs.  We spent some time together, visiting, corresponding, talking on the phone.  The surgery saw to it that she would never have the energy to be able to re-join the work force, and she was putting her creative energies into positive outlets, like writing and art.  She shared with me her pain in giving up her little boy at his birth, and told me of her attempts to contact him over the years, including a visit to him at his school.  She was convinced that his adoptive family was cruel and emotionally abusive.  Perhaps they were, or perhaps his stories were those so typical of an angry pre-teen who viewed a revocation of his privileges as a serious grievance.  I don't know.

With so much time on her hands as she recovered, she turned to the internet as a source of information and support on why adoption is always bad and how to get your kid back once they have been placed up for adoption.  She sought advice from advocates all over the world and searched legal documents.  I listened as she outlined her plans and voiced her opinions on the evils of adoption.  I couldn't respond.  My baby brother was adopted, given up by his 16-year old birth mother on the day he was born to two wonderful, loving parents, my father and my step-mother.  He was a typical kid growing up, well-adjusted, normal.  I could never speak against something that works. 

My friend and I drifted apart again, letting a few more years slip by.  We lived several states away from each other.  I was busy with my hectic career in retail.  I had a baby.  I e-mailed her and we reconnected again a year or two ago.  This time, she stated that her son was coming to live with her, and she was putting him through college.  She went off on another diatribe in her message to me about how bad adoption is.  I responded to her that my experience was very different, citing my brother as an example (I don't think I knew about Reece's Rainbow yet at that point).  I felt the desperation in her as she tried to force her point on me and wanted to somehow salvage our friendship, so I suggested that we drop the subject and agree to disagree, moving on with the other aspects of our lives. 

I didn't hear from her again.  I almost wasn't surprised, but not really.  I did contact her again about 6 months ago, hoping she could see past her stubbornness and let it go, but the conversation was strained, and I realized that some efforts are just not worth it when someone else is unwilling to try to make it work.  Her son was, indeed, living with her.  I didn't ask her too much about the details, but she seemed happy with the situation.  I'm glad she is happy.  I'm sad for her negative view on adoption, an institution that really does work.  Not in all cases, but in most.

And I think about Reece's Rainbow, and how many times I have cried looking at the faces of those beautiful, unwanted children, unwanted because of their extra chromosome.  About all of those families with whom I have connected through blogging and Facebook who have brought some of those children home, to loving families, before they could become doomed to an unimaginable life inside an institution somewhere in the world, dying so young of neglect.

I'm willing to agree to disagree, but will not stop hoping that one day she might change her mind and in turn change others' minds.  Perhaps that change of one mind will lead to a change of events that will result in the adoption of even just one child that needed a home, needed a family, needed security and love.  I don't know if she reads my blog.  She might.  I know she had the address at one time.  I hope she does.