Adoption Network

Choosing to Heal

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 16:30:00 +0100

When my life gets stressful, my tendency is to feel inadequate and insecure. It is like I have an emotional sunburn: sensitive to the touch, wary of anyone who gets too close, and angry with myself for allowing the situation to get out of control. To those closest to me, I may seem distant, withdrawn and sullen. Pretty quickly the feelings become too burdensome and I begin to look for someone else to blame (a way to discharge pain and discomfort). Anger feels like power and control. Vulnerability feels like weakness and annihilation. The snowball is rolling downhill and very difficult to stop.

You might think that to call this behavior an adoption issue is a stretch. On the one hand, I agree; people who are not adopted may have a similar pattern that results from an event in life – likely in early childhood – that was painful and wounding and unresolved. Consequently, every “new” situation that feels similar to that wound could trigger this kind of response. It is an unconscious response; in my case, withdrawing, feeling abandoned and alone. What makes it an adoption issue for me is that my “primal wound” occurred at birth; it is pre-verbal and can only be accessed emotionally. It is virtually impossible to reason my way to feeling whole.

I have come to believe that the most powerful path to well-being is almost infantile – to cry. To cry loud and long, without holding back, and without judgment, like a baby. When a baby cries, we hold her and comfort her and over time, build trust and reassure her that she is not alone. Adoptees, sadly, often were alone in the first few hours, days, weeks, months, and still feel alone. The mother longed for and cried for is gone. Every vulnerability and insecurity, every feeling of inadequacy may be an echo of that cry of loneliness. Therein lies a significant difference for adoptees and children reared by their birthparents. For adoptees, the pain and unfulfilled longing feels life- threatening; it feels like annihilation. Nancy Verrier addresses this fear of annihilation in her book, The Primal Wound.

If you check out Karen Gillooly’s recent blog, “Grief and Hope: Digging Deep and Bright Blue Skies,” she speaks about just “being” with her little guy when he feels his existence is threatened. That IS the appropriate and loving thing to do. For those of us who are 40-, 50- or 60-something, the comfort we seek is harder won. Enter Adoption Network Cleveland.

In our Adoptee Journeys series, Dr. Tom Rogat, PsyD., talks to us about “The Change Process.” He outlines several options for treatment: Adoption Network Cleveland workshops and events; support groups; individual therapy; interpersonal group therapy; and self help. I am fortunate to have pursued all these, and yet every day I have to choose to heal. Dr. Tom encourages us to “practice, practice, practice” and to “be accepting and kind to yourself!” Dr. Brene’ Brown says that what is required to move forward is to practice vulnerability.

I recognize that my past participation with Adoption Network Cleveland has been an unconscious strategy to heal and grow. I have heard that the highest form of learning is to teach. While I do not see my role within the Network as teaching, my struggle to share my experience, my story, is meant to be a contribution in our ongoing conversation. Out of that, I am free to consciously choose to grow and heal and continue to discover who I am.

A Grandmother's Journey--Part 2

Thu, 29 Nov 2012 20:22:00 +0100

I remember standing at the kitchen sink a little over two years ago when my daughter told me she had something to discuss with me. It was a serious statement. She had come in from Chicago for a stone setting for my mother in-law . It had been a rough year.

My daughter had just lost her second pregnancy and she had been devastated. It was a time in motherhood for me that I wasn’t able to fix what was broken. Even though my daughter was an adult and had been on her own for many years, I still felt that my role as mother was to protect her and I wasn’t able to. All I could do was listen and be there and be supportive. She and her husband desperately wanted to start a family.

I couldn’t wait to be a grandmother. I dreamed of a little girl with blond curls (have no idea why since no one had blond hair except for my mother.) She would be smart like my daughter and musical like her too. She would have my son-in-law’s curly hair and sense of humor. All of this was pure fantasy, but I enjoyed the daydreams. One by one, many of my friend’s children were having babies, and even though I was happy for them, it often felt like a stab in the chest. How selfish of me. But the pain my daughter was going through was more than I could bear.

Getting back to the kitchen sink, drying dishes, my daughter sprang it on me that she was thinking about adopting. In a nanosecond, a million thoughts went through my monkey brain. Was it too soon to be thinking of this? Had they pursued every option to conceive and carry a baby? What was their hurry? The list went on and on. Of course instead of saying any of these things, I listened intently to what she had to say. I am blessed with a wonderful and open relationship with her and was very interested in what she had to say.

She was tired of the drugs, shots, doctor appointments, rude questions from people, and the whole ball of yarn. She wanted to start a family and didn’t want to wait for more tests, more failed pregnancies and more heartbreak. She certainly put things in perspective. How could I blame her for having had enough? Having had two successful pregnancies, I certainly didn’t understand entirely what she was going through both physically and emotionally. She was pursuing another specialist, but also wanted to pursue adoption options.

For the first time in a long time I was speechless. How much do I ask? What do I ask? I needed to wrap my head around this whole thing. I guess in today’s age of medicine, you don’t think that pregnancy should be so difficult. I didn’t know anyone else who was going through the adoption process. Everyone seemed to be getting pregnant at the drop of a hat. Little did I know that there was a greater plan that I was unaware of at the time.

And so the process began. They began to research adoption agencies and decided that a domestic adoption was the way they wanted to go. I began to do my own research and began to reach out to professionals that I knew regarding the process and what resources might be available here in Cleveland. I was cautious as to how much and what to tell my daughter. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to micro manage her life. I was only trying to be helpful.

Our next visit together she announced that they had decided on an agency that they liked and were going to pursue the process. She asked my opinion regarding the adoption process and still pursuing the fertility route. I said whatever happens, happens. If she should adopt and get pregnant, then she would have two babies instead of one. Little did I know then that two was the magic number. She explained the whole process and what would take place with home visits, classes, and paperwork. Their life would be looked at under a microscope. She didn’t appear to be bothered by any of this and for the first time in a long while she seemed content and relaxed about their decision. To me, I found this process to be so intrusive. Anyone can have a baby, until you go to adopt and then you are highly scrutinized, analyzed, and sent to parenting classes. I think this should be a prerequisite for all parents.

My husband on the other hand was another story! He didn’t get any of this and had lots of misconceptions about adoption. He had a personal connection growing up with two cousins who were adopted and had a very tainted picture of what our future grandchild would be like. It was a battle to try and reason with him and keep him from saying the wrong thing and expressing his concerns with our daughter. I figured once they had a child, his feelings would change. I think he was secretly hoping for a successful pregnancy. I think his concern was whether he could love a child that wasn’t his blood. How narrow minded, but I guess many people feel this way. He was also alarmed when they indicated that they would accept a child of another race. I had my concerns also, but figured they were getting the proper counseling and had thought this through. My concern stemmed from how they were going to become a transracial family and how that choice would impact them for the rest of their lives. However, it was their life and their choice.

We were asked to send out letters to anyone we knew that could be helpful in finding a potential baby. The more people who knew, the better the chances were of finding a potential baby. My husband finally came on board and was very helpful in giving out these letters to anyone who could possibly be helpful. My daughter and son-in-law needed to indicate the conditions and circumstances they would or wouldn’t accept. They felt awkward about this, but needed to be honest. There were many circumstances and conditions they realized they wouldn’t be comfortable with, and others that they were very open about.

I was listed as a reference for my daughter with the agency. I remember being in New York visiting our son when I got the call from the social worker at their agency asking for my time to discuss my daughter adopting a child. My heart stopped. My voice choked and I had a hard time catching my breath. This was real. I became very emotional and excited at the same time. It was actually happening. The possibility of a baby coming into our lives was becoming more a reality.

It was December 1, 2010 when their application was complete and their profile was posted on the agency website. What a different world this was for all of us. It was definitely a new world we were about to enter. The agency indicated that it could take one to two years before they received a baby. They were prepared for the long wait. We continued to reach out everywhere possible. I was very nervous and concerned about what could happen.

Stay tuned next month for part #3.

In the meantime, here are some helpful links that I found . I will include some wonderful books next time*:

National Adoption Center. Found on Linkedin
Touched by Adoption. Found on Linkedin
Adoptivefamilies.com (Also subscribe to their magazine. It is amazing!)
Connected to Adoption. Found on Linkedin
Portraitsofadoption.com

*Note that the resources recommended above were found helpful by our blogger, Granci, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Adoption Network Cleveland.

A Grandmother's Journey

Wed, 17 Oct 2012 15:01:00 +0100

How appropriate to begin this blog on the twins’ 21 month birthday. I have thought about writing a blog, or actually I was encouraged by my daughter and then again by Laura at Adoption Network Cleveland to begin a blog. What did I know about blogging? To me it sounded like a foreign language, which I was never very good at. I feel so totally inadequate, like learning yoga for the first time, to write anything descriptive.

When I used to write journals in college (some 40 years ago)… OMG is it really that long ago... in the journal that I kept, were personal thoughts that weren’t shared with anyone except maybe my English professor. Is this the same thing as a blog? Again, I am unclear, like the smudged glasses I put on at night, as to where to begin and what to say. So many things to talk about: Infertility, Adoption, Adopting Twins, and Adopting Twin African-American boys who were going to be raised Jewish no less!

When my daughter adopted twin African-American boys, I was overwhelmed with many thoughts and emotions. My thoughts were taking over and I was jumping from one random thought to another. Never did I think that becoming a grandparent was going to be so multidimensional. After my daughter was married for a short while, she and her husband began to start planning a family. Little did we all know the difficulties she was going to encounter.

Before getting into the whole adoption topic, I think it is important to understand my feelings regarding my daughter’s infertility. Since my daughter was 30 when she married, she and her husband wanted to begin a family soon. They both love kids and truly were both made to be incredible parents.

I started researching information on the whole topic and was overwhelmed with all the causes and treatments that were available. My concerns were how much do I get involved as a mother? Where was the line as to how much I should be asking and how much I was privy to? It was an awkward role. One I was not use to. Since this was such a private and personal matter, I certainly didn’t want to discuss this with any friends. My husband had a more casual approach on the subject and really wasn’t being supportive. I researched and researched and the only thing that happened was that I became more anxious about the whole matter.

I don’t need to bore anyone with all the details of hormone shots, tests and more tests, anxiety and more confusion. Their life along with mine became an obsession of when and if she would get pregnant. Was I too involved as a mom? I thought once my children were adults I would stop worrying about their lives. Boy, was I naïve. Danielle did get pregnant. Seven weeks into the pregnancy, the fetus wasn’t viable. A terrible loss and devastation and never had I seen my daughter so detached and distant. She refused to talk about it with me. I felt awful. Since I never had a problem conceiving, I couldn’t entirely understand what she was going through. I only know as a mom, how my heart broke for her. I wanted to make the hurt go away. And there was nothing I could do. Again, I began my search for support. Zilch!!! No one to talk to. All around me, my friends’ kids who were married were getting pregnant. I was supposed to feel happy for them, but as each one told me about their pregnant daughter/daughter-in-law, it was like a knife in my chest. Then, I felt guilty for feeling that way.

The doctor told Danielle to wait three months before beginning treatment again. They asked about birth control, but were told there was no way that she would get pregnant on her own. Ha! Little did they know, she did get pregnant. No drugs, no intervention: a miracle that was soon to be torn away from them again. Another loss and it was recommended to see another specialist who deals with women who are unable to carry a pregnancy. More intervention and more tests.

Danielle and Jon were sick of the process and wanted more than anything to begin a family. They didn’t want to go through more pain and suffering and decided to look into adoption. Another bombshell exploded in my face. I wasn’t prepared for that conversation. That was a lot to absorb and now I would have to start a new research project. I didn’t even know how I felt about that. I just assumed they would continue to find causes and get things resolved and eventually have a viable pregnancy. All the feelings and thoughts that were rumbling around in my head in a split second, needed to stay just put in my head. I could not express to Danielle how I was feeling. I needed to wrap my head around all of this.

I am big on researching things. I like to find others who are going through similar situations and see how they cope with the issues they have faced. Many years ago, my husband was battling ulcerative colitis and I was on a mission to find out everything there was to know about the illness, treatment options and coping mechanisms for families and patients. I was able to find many people (before the era of computers and Google) who dealt with this disease.

So given my history of finding information that I needed, I was surprised by the lack of information I could find regarding grandparents of adoptees. Am I the only grandparent that is looking for information? I reached out to doctors, hospitals, Google, other professionals. Nothing. I eventually found Adoption Network Cleveland and so my journey begins.

Grief and Hope: Digging Deep and Bright Blue Skies

Fri, 12 Oct 2012 14:37:00 +0100

Wounded children “take pleasure in defying rules and don’t care about receiving parental disapproval. Punishment doesn’t work because they believe they deserve harsh treatment (“I’m not worthwhile or loveable”). They make the same mistakes time and time again. Parents often respond by being punitive, giving in, or giving up.”

From the Introduction in Healing Parents: Helping Wounded Children Learn to Trust & Love by Michael Orlans and Terry M. Levy. Published by Child Welfare League of America 2006 www.cwla.org (italics added).

Whether or not you feel you are parenting “wounded children”, anytime we see our children hurting, feeling worthless or unloveable, it hurts. It aches. It tears. Them and us - at least it does for me. Especially when I know that there is nothing to do but just “be” with them through that pain. I can’t take it away, deny it, cover it up or minimize it (well, I could but that would just add another layer of problems). And I certainly don’t want to add my sadness over their sadness to their pain (if that makes sense).

It’s tricky business, this grieving over and with the grief of our children. The raw, deep truth of their core loss and how painful that can be can trigger our own deep feelings and fears.

Again from Healing Parents:
“Loss is always stressful and difficult, and it is normal for children to have sad, angry, and painful reactions. Helping children cope with loss is an important job for healing parents. You are coaching them through the trauma and teaching crucial life skills. You can’t take away the loss, but you can listen, affirm, and support. Remember, the human psyche has a tremendous capacity for recovery and growth.” (italics added)

When my delightful, energetic, sweet and deeply wounded child lashes out from his place of pre-verbal grief and pain, I take comfort in knowing that this is part of his healing process. That his willingness to express his pain is part of his health. And the tenderness and love I feel for him is interwoven with the ache of sadness for this small, young, fiercely strong and brave person.

Not sure if others will see the connection between what I have just written and this poem, but for me, this poem provides hope and comfort for me, which in turn, I can share with my child. I can take his hand, wipe the tears and say “look at that beautiful bright blue sky – do you hear the geese?” All the best for each of you in this journey of adoption.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

The Best Thing That Ever Happened…

Mon, 01 Oct 2012 14:03:00 +0100

During one of my therapy sessions, we were discussing my reluctance to commit. At this point in my life, it was no longer about committing to a person. Diane and I had been married for years and we were just trying to make our marriage better. My difficulty was being bound by everyday commitments: planning dates for a vacation; choosing a day for dinner with family or friends; making a promise to clean house or wash the car.

When asked what it felt like to tie myself down, I responded, “I just feel like I always need to be open to whatever may come along, like an opportunity. I have this feeling that I might miss out on the best thing that ever happened to me because I had promised to do something I really didn’t want to do in the first place.” My therapist paused long enough for me to know she had heard me. And then with a look and an attitude that I took to mean we both already knew, she said, “Well, you know, you’ve already missed out on the best thing that could have ever happened to you.” I never felt so vulnerable in my life. It was like being caught in a lie I had convinced myself was the truth. I knew that she knew that being kept by Margaret, my birthmom, was that best thing.

There is no passage of time in these moments. It is like a snapshot; a picture that appears full-blown in all it’s details. Over time, we discover those details and see something previously unnoticed at every examination. But it is all there from the moment our eyes are opened: to have been raised by my birthmom and birthfather; to have grown up with siblings; to know my nieces and nephews; to feel like I belonged. The memory still brings tears.

I am still surprised at what followed the speaking of the truth. I feel free to stop pretending that somehow by wishing and longing for it, holding out for it, I can un-ring that bell. Like an echo, I still struggle with the old habit. But a new possibility, one over which I have control, has opened up: my calendar is free, and I get to choose.

From Wichita They Came

Fri, 14 Sep 2012 14:18:00 +0100

My son, Colin, was married in Boston in July (2012) to beautiful and extraordinary Lillie Marshall. Family and friends from all over the U.S. came to celebrate and participate. As always, there were those who wanted to attend and could not due to circumstances beyond their control. While we missed them and longed to have them there, two family members of Colin’s went above and beyond the call to attend. His cousins, Michelle and Danielle (my nieces from my birthmom Margaret), flew from Wichita, KS, showing their love and support.

I have watched these two, my sister Melody’s girls, grow up over the eighteen years since I found Margaret, and we have become very close. I have shared many firsts with them: Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, weddings, as we navigated the choppy waters of creating and maintaining relationships that are unique to adoption reunion.

This was the first time, as adults, that they put aside their lives out West and demonstrated to all that what really matters is family. I know that it meant a great deal to Colin that his Wichita family was represented.

For me, the significance was far beyond the joy and happiness that we shared. Wichita is a long way from Boston, culturally and geographically; yet they came. The Schwartz/Turner extended family were names without faces to them; yet they came. The Schneider/Marshall family (Lillie’s side) were no more than names of people only heard about for a few months; yet they came. Flights to and lodging in Boston are not inexpensive these days: yet they came. Big events are unfolding in their lives, graduate school for Michelle and recent career advancements for both; yet they came. Decisions made, an action taken which changes everything from now on.

Like a house under construction, over eighteen years, my birthfamily has worked to build a firm foundation for a lifetime of relatedness. We have laid solid walls, brick by brick, during times of fun and times of sorrow. At Lillie and Colin’s wedding the grandeur of the family structure, a work in progress, took on proportions heretofore unforeseen. The newlyweds have added a new wing, and hallways now exist that connect families in an intricate maze of worlds undiscovered. The grand foyer that leads to the Wichita wing is dedicated to Michelle and Danielle.

A Family Affair

Tue, 14 Aug 2012 19:00:00 +0100

I can’t make this beautiful or poetic other than to say that adoption is a family affair. It is the creation of blood between individuals whom otherwise would remain separated. It is the dissolution of blood ties that run through one’s veins carrying messages encoded upon generations. There can be a sense of separate experiences amongst the Triad so much that it seems like everyone is journeying alone. One is on an island of interior selfness—closed off from sharing. But, I do not think that this should continue to be so in the adoption community. I believe this is actually damaging our ability to talk about something like this that is primal and innate: children and family. How can we continue to remain silent?

For most of my growing up years, I did not know I was allowed to talk about my adoption. I supposed that it was just so far into the past that it didn’t affect the present. I also happened to live in my imagination and in the world of make-believe. I believe this actually saved me from feeling a lot of the confusing and overwhelming feelings that come with exploring one’s connection to adoption. But one day when I was 19 all of that changed. I was asked to do a personal monologue in an acting course. I had to write it and deliver it to a room full of my peers. I chose to write about my adoption story. On the day of the presentation, I wasn’t particularly nervous except in being judged about my writing skills. As I spoke, tears started streaming down my face and I felt myself being cracked open. It was rather embarrassing as I had never even had any of these feelings articulate themselves even in private; I had opened my own Pandora’s Box and with it 19 years of silence.

Since then and for the past two years, I have refused to remain silent. I am here writing these words to you. I have shared my story with many people at Adoption Network Cleveland and I have sought out other adoptees (particularly transracial and transcultural) and tried not to ignore my feelings. But, it has been difficult in trying to talk to my parents about these feelings. I have often felt guilty about having any other feelings other than gratitude. I was born in El Salvador in 1990 after more than two decades of a bloody civil war. I came from “grinding poverty” and no chance for any of the things I have today. I AM thankful for all that has been given to me, for it has been a life. It has been the storing and finding of dreams and hopes. It has been my beliefs in humanity and my hope for something better. But, and there is always a “but” in this equation, I found out that I lost something. And this journey that I started has helped me to grieve and heal that loss, but I know that it will never leave me. I am marked for life, but I am on the road to acceptance of my own self-worth. I am on the road to “coming home” to myself. I’m not sure where I went for 19 years.

In this exploration I have had to ask myself and my family many uncomfortable questions and challenge society’s assumptions. For example, in going out into the world on my own, I have had to try and be a Latina woman. I realized that I have no idea what that means. Should I be blatantly sexual and cook spicy food as Hollywood often portrays my countrywomen? Should I be calm, reserved, and coldly (but awesomely) intellectual like some women I observed when I was growing up? Who am I supposed to be if I was never shown? If I was never reflected back to myself as I grew up, as I had no one Latina in my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that I should try to be myself—whoever that is. Many of my friends and family have just said that I’m a typical 21 year old who has to figure herself out, but I happen to disagree. Many of my peers do not have a blank slate when looking in the mirror. There is a past to look to, but when I try to look for a past there is nothing there. I am just floating in the world like I always have. The great thing about th

A Friendly Reminder

Fri, 20 Jul 2012 13:44:00 +0100

Sometimes I get so busy with the day-to-day details of life that I need to be reminded to live. To stop and smell the roses. To breathe. Sometimes it’s good check out our tool kit from time to time. Toss out what we’ve outgrown or what has become dull or rusty and add new and improved tools when needed. Shine up the tried and true and remind ourselves of a tool that used to be critical and vital that we may have overlooked recently and want to revisit.

As parents and partners, what helps you recharge your batteries? How do you nurture important relationships? Are there other parents or couples who truly understand – those special friends who “get it” and with whom you can be yourself and feel grounded after spending time with them? How long has it been since you laughed until your belly hurt? Or cried at a movie – staring real people (not cartoons or animals)?

How’s your health? Do you have a primary care physician? Does that person know you? Is there something you’ve been putting off related to your health? Those oh-so-joyful annual exams? And how about those “now that you are a certain age” tests? I know. But just do it. Need (new) glasses? Wanna get your hair cut? Or colored?

Do you want to update your resume? Go (back) to counseling? Or school? Start running? Curious about learning something new? Has someone invited you to attend something with them? Have you gone? When was the last time you went to the library and just hung out in the section with your favorite books? (It’s free!) Do you want to get more involved with supporting your candidate? And before you say “Yea, right lady – when?” Let me just say – I ask, because I care!

Those of us with children, tend to get rather focused on them – have you noticed? As adoptive parents, we are primed for this from the start – all the work and time and energy and papers and forms and money and sometimes travel that goes into “just” becoming parents can set us up to think that this level of frenzy and energy and exclusive attention is expected all the time – total focus on the adoption process = total focus on the child. But we must take care of ourselves and our adult relationships in the midst of parenting or we are doomed and our children are stuck with dull, worn out, exhausted and often resentful parents. Not that I know anything about THAT – I’ve heard it can happen…..

I am not talking about a huge bucket list that includes going to India. I’m talking about the dreams you may have forgotten or the dreams you set aside. Revisit them and nurture the non-parent part of yourself. Make some time and have a mini-retreat with yourself and/or your partner or best friend to share ideas, make new commitments, and talk about what interests you. You will smile more and so will your children.

The Importance of Sharing Your Story

Thu, 05 Jul 2012 14:11:00 +0100

I have to share an exciting experience: spreading the good news of being a proud birthmother! During a recent business meeting I met with a couple who shared that they were high school sweethearts and had been married for 31 years. "Wow, you guys are really blessed,” I said. “Can I take two minutes to tell you my story?" I had never done this during my 30 years in sales, and was shocked at the outcome!

I shared that I fell in love with my high school sweetheart, but we gave up our son for adoption. The husband’s wife looked at him and he said, "I was adopted!” I could not believe it. Then his wife said their children want him to find his birthmother. I stood up, got out some information about Adoption Network Cleveland and asked if they wanted to join me at the Rocky River meeting that night, but they declined. The husband wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle those emotions while being a new business owner. I was like a kid on Christmas morning who just found a lost son (present), looking for his (birth) mother!

He eventually contacted the Network and received an informational email. So, the moral of the story is, we need to start telling more people WHO we are: Birthmothers, Adoptees and Adoptive Parents! There truly is a whole world of people out there who need Adoption Network Cleveland and us!

Anger Doesn't Heal the Past

Thu, 28 Jun 2012 16:01:00 +0100

At our May session of Adoptee Journeys, our “Adoptee Only” series, a panel of four birthmothers shared about their experience of pregnancy, birth and relinquishment. By the end of the evening, I felt some of the old anger coming back that defined many of my early months of attendance at the General Support and Discussion Meetings.

As a rebellious teen my anger was directed at my adoptive parents and then spread to all authority figures. As a young adult I targeted those authority figures that I believed to be responsible for the Vietnam War. As a young husband and father, my wife and two sons sometimes felt the stab of my anger, and that eventually led me to therapy and Adoption Network Cleveland. The Network helped me identify my anger as a defense for feelings of powerlessness and helplessness in the face of a legal/social structure that said I had no right to know the facts of my birth or my birth family.

It can be hard to manage this anger with no clear target to blame. Some of us, me included, blamed our birthparents. They should have tried harder to keep me. Did they not love me enough to fight for me? “How could you give me up when I was so helpless and needed you so much?” It is clear to me now that my anger was a survival response to the “primal wound.” Anger feels like power, feels like control. In some it boils over as aggression and/or self-destructive acts.

By the end of the evening with our panel of birthmoms I felt such sadness and sorrow for what they had endured. At a time when they were the most vulnerable, the most in need of understanding, guidance and support, they were abandoned by their families, their partners and a society that shamed them and condemned them. Predictably, anger rose up in me to balance the sorrow and feeling of powerlessness.

What I understand at this point in my journey is that anger does not heal; it scars. What happened cannot be changed. We are left to embrace the sadness, express empathy and show compassion. The poet Robert Bly has said that sometimes all there is to do is to cry.

A Year of Magical Thoughts

Fri, 08 Jun 2012 15:16:00 +0100

It has been almost a year since Adoption Network Cleveland came into my life like an answered prayer. My journey began because my counselor did not understand the adoption connections in my life. I don’t know if I even realized the significance of those first burning feelings inside. All I could feel was something opening within me that had many shapes and colors, but I couldn’t articulate anything. I honestly thought that perhaps I was losing my mind. I’d spent 19 fairly care-free years with my adoption story, which I had perfectly compartmentalized in my mind. It had happened and that was that. I no longer belonged to that other life; the one of dreams and imagination. I’d always felt loved, cared for and utterly doted upon by my adoptive parents—it was perfection. So, where did that empty space come from? Why didn’t I feel the sensation of wholeness that my peers appeared to have? Why couldn’t I accept myself as loveable? Why couldn’t I trust anyone? I won’t lie as sometimes I had and still do torture myself with these questions—trying to meld the pieces back together, trying to find a complete reflection of myself. Yet, this right to questioning was the first fallacy that I would learn about in relation to adoption issues. I suppose before I came to Adoption Network Cleveland, I thought I had no right to learn about my past because my childhood had been so incredibly good.

Since coming to the Network, I’ve been digging into these issues with other adoptees. Their stories along with the stories of other Triad members have fed my soul over the past 11 months. I’ve witnessed the sorrow of birthmothers—never forgetting their lost children. I’ve listened to adoptees demand the right to know where they came from. Lastly, I’ve watched adoptive parents struggle with realizing that sometimes they are not enough for their children. The motto at every General Support and Discussion Meeting goes: we are here and we understand. The comfort in that has been a soothing presence in my life this past year where I’ve struggled to build my own identity as a young person apart from my family.

Perhaps the most sobering idea I’ve come away with is that this is a lifelong journey. I thought in the beginning that I’d go to a few meetings and be miraculously “healed” and “fixed.” I imagined that the empty space inside would evaporate, and I could move on and in a sense forget about my pre-verbal history, but this did not happen. I don’t think it will ever truly go away. But now I know that I don’t have to be alone in this exploration. I can reach out for support. I don’t always have to be the “strong one” in my adoption journey. I don’t have to just be the “baby” with no power as others made life-impacting decisions. I’m not alone. And in that, I believe, lies the ultimate power and ultimately inner peace.

Thank you Adoption Network Cleveland for holding my hand and giving me “roots.”

To Expect the Unexpected

Fri, 01 Jun 2012 18:55:00 +0100

I first met my birthmother in 1991 when I was 28 years old; I’m not sure what I expected. The search had been thrilling. The detective work was great fun. I was fortunate to find her with minimal effort after a short search. She was thrilled to hear from me. I did not think about anything past that initial meeting.

OK, so then what?

I was not looking for another mother; the one I had was wonderful in every way. I found a big brother; that was nice since I did not have one of those. I found an aunt and uncle, but I already had scores of those. Between 1991 and 2009, we had occasional contact. She loved sending greeting cards and I received those for many occasions. She did not visit too much despite only living 35 minutes away. My children were born in 1992, 1994, 1998 and 2007 and I expected her to embrace her role as grandmother. That did not really happen. I invited her to every event I could think of; she only attended sporadically.

I always said that when I searched, I was NOT looking for another mother but deep down maybe I really was. I spent many of those first 28 birthdays KNOWING that she was thinking about me on that day. When I found her, she admitted not remembering exactly what day I was born. She did remember it was the year that John F. Kennedy was killed. At least that was accurate.

Don’t get me wrong; we had many great moments together in those 19 years. The times we did spend together were great. I guess I was just trying to define her as a mother, my other mother. She was my birth mother and in this case that looked different.

I really cannot even imagine what it must be like to make an adoption plan for your child. One of the first things she said to me was, “I’ve always worried that you were dead.” I would gather that one must have to compartmentalize a lot of emotions in order to move forward. I am a firm believer in destiny; I was destined to join my adoptive family. But I was not the one who left a baby at the hospital.

So, what DID I expect in 1991? I did not expect to hold her hand on her death bed. I did not think about planning her funeral. I did not expect to greet mourners at the side of her casket and hear all the wonderful stories about her. I did not expect to hear over and over again, “your mother did so much for me,” and “you look just like her.” But that is what happened and I was privileged to have had her for 19 years.

Those Darn Goodbyes

Wed, 23 May 2012 14:55:00 +0100

This is a follow-up to my post in December, when my son was knee-deep in boot camp. Those days were among the hardest times of separation because there was no way to look in his baby blues or have a conversation. There was no phone or email allowed for 13 weeks. When we reunited again … it was exhilarating. That happened when he locked eyes with both his birthmother and me as we watched him practice for boot camp graduation. What a moment to share with her. We were giddy.

Now, we are six months into this journey as a Marine family. We’ve had many more meaningful hellos and goodbyes as he took each new step in his training. Each time we said “goodbye,” I knew we’d see him again in a month or two. It kept me sane and upright. And, also, thank goodness, we could communicate by phone via talking and texting.

But, yesterday, oh yesterday … we said “goodbye” to him as he boarded a plane for Japan. For two years. No longer could my denial mask this reality. There I was, heart wide open, in front of the open box. I cried noticeable, visible tears in the airport lobby, surrounded by strangers. The world went away as I looked in his baby blues and said “goodbye” for potentially two years, to my beautiful child.

Help. I am not upright. I am not sane. Is it harder on adoptive moms to say goodbye to their children? Is there any connection to years of infertility to this unbearable feeling of loss? I am not sure. I only know that I am going to miss my only child with more intensity than I have ever known.

Again, I am reminded of his birthmother and the pain she must have felt when she said goodbye to him and placed him with us. I’ve known her for 20 years. I thought I knew her pain. But, no, I haven’t known it … and maybe even now, I still don’t know it. I do know, though, that NOW I can feel the gravity of the loss, of the missing, of how it stabs the heart to say “goodbye.”

I am stunned at the connections between this loss and adoption. I can now understand how birthparents deny for decades that this experience ever happened to them. Because, I admit, denial is at play for me, too … denial allowed me to be happy when he was home in the days before he left, denial is blocking out the length of time or the distance apart. Denial has a bad reputation, but as a coping mechanism (at least for me right now) – bring it on.

With our openness, I know there is another person in the world who loves and misses the same person with the same intensity of a mother’s love. So with that thought, and maybe a little denial in my pocket, maybe I can face the day. Day dreaming, too, that before the day is out, maybe technology

will allow me to look into his baby blues, and say “hello.”

I have created a personal fundraising page in honor my son, Eric. During May, make a $20 donation to Adoption Network Cleveland in honor of 20-year-old PFC Eric Christo Schellentrager -- U.S. Marine and adoptee. Click here to donate now.

The “Both-And” Of Parenting

Tue, 22 May 2012 13:58:00 +0100

One of the things I have learned in life is that “all-or-nothing” thinking is not very helpful. When I notice I am looking at things from a perspective of “either/or” or one extreme or the other, I try to challenge myself to see other possibilities beyond “black and white”. And while this is helpful, there are times when I also have to acknowledge that, at times, the reality of life is complex and confusing and there are situations where “both-and” does apply.

One of those situations is parenting.

Especially adoptive parenting.

There is a duality to adoptive parenting that can be challenging to embrace. This child is “mine” and this child is “yours”. I am his mother and you are his mother also. He has siblings here and he has siblings there. This is his name. That was his name too. Both-And.

He loves us. He is in great pain over losing you. We have some answers. There is a lot we don’t know and can’t answer. Is this behavior nature or nurture or both-and?

It can be difficult to hold two opposing truths simultaneously in our hearts and minds and yet that is what we are called to do as adoptive parents. Our children live with this challenge daily and in order to support them and validate their reality, we must learn to name this challenge and show them how to manage these conflicting truths.

I don’t know exactly how to do that all the time, but I do know that simply talking about it can be a big help. We have a book in our house called Double-Dip Feelings: Stories to Help Children Understand Emotions by Barbara S. Cain and Anne Patterson and reading this book with our children has helped us all understand that having two “opposite” feelings about something at the same time is possible, normal and ok.

Be on the lookout for these “both-and” moments and experiences and offer yourself and your children the chance to express all the complex and often conflicting truths of adoption.

-Karen Gillooly and her husband are parents of 3 boys.

Inevitability

Mon, 14 May 2012 21:06:00 +0100

When my adoptive mom, Jewell, died in 1982 I was emotionally devastated and grief stricken. The loss of my dad four years earlier had been traumatic, but I had my mom to take care of and we grieved together. With her death I felt absolutely alone in the world, and for the first time, was aware there was no longer a safe-haven where I would be loved, protected and taken in no matter what. I was fortunate to have Diane, who became my wife one year later, for help, support and comfort.

Ten years later, when I first considered search and reunion, one of my first thoughts was that I might have to grieve for another mother. Partly to protect myself from the inevitable, I had said to my therapist, Vikki, “I’m not looking for another Mother!” During the next couple of years, as I attended ANC general meetings and an adoptee only group lead by Dottie Klemm, it occurred to me that I was already grieving for the loss of her. What was missing was the possibility of joy, love and healing: nothing to lose. I found Margaret in 1994 and we reunited on my 48th birthday.

At 3:40 PM, January 20th, 2011 Margaret passed away with her children, grandchildren and several great-grandchildren at her bedside. We wept for her, for ourselves, and for each other. We made promises out loud and silently, held each other, and felt the swirling emotions of devastating loss and unconditional love. I thought about my two moms, Margaret and Jewell, and my fears about this moment. During my last few hours with Margaret I talked to her, hoping that through the fog of coma she could hear me.

I thanked her for my life and her courage and our reunion. I reminded her of the lonely night she spent in labor with me 65 years ago, and the miracle of reunion that allowed us to be together on this, her last night. Jewell would be glad about that.

For the second time, Diane has helped hold me together as the mourning unfolds, and there are my sister and brothers, nieces and nephew, aunt and uncles with whom to share the experience. Instead of the emptiness and loneliness of the past, there are many safe havens; people who once again will take me in no matter what. The grief, sorrow and tears are familiar, but are tempered by the years of joy and laughter we had together, and the future we have created.

As the 25th Anniversary of ANC approaches, I think about how I was gently and lovingly coaxed through the paralyzing fear and anxiety and was led to Margaret. The General Meetings and Adoptee Only groups have become safe havens where I can support and be supported by others who understand. It is time to reminisce, acknowledge,appreciate and celebrate the organization and the people who are Adoption Network Cleveland.

Follow Up Essay to May Newsletter Cover Story

Tue, 01 May 2012 17:22:00 +0100

Preface: Twenty year old, Roxanna, an adoptee wrote this essay as a follow up to her "Reflections in the Mirror" story that was published in our May-June 2012 Guidance Newsletter.

I wanted to pull my non-fiction piece to the front of my portfolio because I feel it gave me the most trouble. But, now after having done my final revision, I think it might be my best piece of writing. As I said in my reflection, I chose to write about a very personal topic: my adoption. I struggled for a couple of weeks trying to figure out what exactly I wanted to say about that topic. I knew I didn’t want the piece to become a feel-good essay on family. I wanted the piece to accurately display my own mixed emotions on this subject. And, mixed emotions arising from the fact that I’ve just started my personal exploration into this topic as an adult—not as a child intellectually understanding the concept of adoption, and therefore not being able to verbalize the emotional depth but, as an older person who is understanding what that means to everyone involved.

I think the main reason the piece gave me trouble was that I felt very emotional towards my subject. I’m just beginning to understand my unique situation and it’s been a painful journey. And, I felt to do justice to the subject that I needed to have some emotional distance. I wanted to be able to tell the story and let the story speak for itself. I think its universal appeal lies in that it is about family and what binds us together. And, I wanted that universality to come through without me telling the reader.

Several weeks ago, I was working on my “Reflections in the Mirror” piece and I thought that I’d never find a way to revise it, or that I’d have to start from scratch. So, I started my revision project by taking out extra meaningless words and phrases just to tighten up the writing. Then, I slowly brainstormed about the tone I wanted overall for the writing. I wrote down what came to mind—not inhibiting myself and from there was able to find the voice I wanted. I also read some pieces by other adoptees telling their stories and it helped me to find what moved me and also showed me how they approached their stories.

After revising it, I read the story aloud to myself. I think this is the single most important step in writing that I’ve taken this semester. I usually don’t read my stuff out loud, but I recently had to write transfer applications essays as well as stories for class and this has proved to be invaluable as a way to self-evaluate.

Lastly, I had my mother read it. It was wonderful to see her reactions to the piece. I wanted the piece not to just speak to adopted persons, but to adoptive families, and even birth families. I think I succeeded in finding the common link. What I feel is most important in writing and thinking about my essay is that I was able to put down on paper how I feel. I was able to explore those feelings and not keep them bottled up inside. I’m hoping one day to write a novel having to do with the effects of adoption and in particular transracial adoption. It’s a complex subject that is not black and white (no pun intended..!), and I don’t think it even gets covered enough within the adoption community. So, it feels quite liberating to talk about my experience—as I hope it can help others in the same unusual yet very unique circumstance. Being the product of two very different kinds of love, crossing cultures, and nations is what has made me into who I am, and maybe that’s all that matters.

Questions from A Birthmother to Birthfathers

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 20:19:00 +0100

I am curious about the birthfather's perspective within the story of adoption. We hear so little from them. So I ask these following questions to the birthfathers.

What were your thoughts when you first discovered your girlfriend was pregnant? Who made the decision to place your baby for adoption? Was abortion legal at that time and was it ever considered? Were you too young to support having a baby?

Did your parents know about the pregnancy? Were they the ones who made the decision for you? Did your girlfriend’s parents know you? Did they know your family? Did her parents tell you to never see your girlfriend ever again? How did that make you feel? What did you do?

Were you allowed to “be there” for your girlfriend when she went through the pregnancy, the delivery, the adoption? Did you sign the papers, too? Was your name on the birth certificate?

Or were you one of the birthfathers who “walked away” like so many did claiming no responsibility for their part in impregnating their girlfriend. Was that you? How did it feel? Tell us your side.

And there are those who do not even know they have a child somewhere out in the world because they were never even told. Is that fair to them? Do they have a right to know?

Did you ever question your girlfriend and ask her if she was sure that you were the father? How did she respond to you? Tell us how you felt then. What did you think about? Did you love your girlfriend or was she simply someone you dated briefly?

How do you feel about the birthmother today? Is she a part of your life? Has she been in your life since the adoption? Did you marry her? Did you marry someone else? Did you tell your wife about your “other child” before you married her? How about other children... did you have more children? Did you tell them about their sibling living out there somewhere? Did you think about your baby over the years? Did you wonder how they were, who they had become?

Have you had a reunion with your adult child? Who searched, you or the birthmother or your child? What kind of a reunion do you have? Do you see your son/daughter regularly? Do you talk to your family members and/or friends about your child? How do they respond when they hear you are a birthfather? Are they happy for you or do they judge you?

Are you aware of the pain and sadness the birthmother went through after relinquishing your baby? Do you ever wish you could have kept your baby? Have you ever felt you weren’t “man enough” to step up and handle the situation differently even though you were probably very young at the time? Were you scared?

I hope some of these questions and comments will inspire birthfathers to share their story I want to hear more about the birthfather’s side to help me understand another part of this complicated process called adoption.

Taking Back Our Powers

Wed, 04 Apr 2012 15:09:00 +0100

Back in the day, Saturday morning was all about cartoons . . . I’m talking about before Nickelodeon, before Cartoon Network, and before Disney Kids. Cartoons happened exactly once a week, on Saturday mornings. By lunch time, they were over, and it was another week before you could see your favorite animated characters battling evil, plotting to take over the world, or just generally causing mayhem.

Personally, I was always a big fan of super hero cartoons. I couldn’t wait to see how they would save the world this week. One that I remember particularly (as will most of my generation, no doubt) is the Wonder Twins. Not only were they super heroes, but they were teenagers, and twins – a boy and a girl. He could turn in to any form of water, and she could turn in to any animal. (You’d be surprised how much they managed to accomplish this way!)

I can hear you as you’re reading this – what on earth does this have to do with adoption? There was one catch for the Wonder Twins . . . they had to be together in order to access their powers . . . “Wonder Twin Powers – Activate!”

Loss of power is a core issue in adoption – for all members of the triad. At some point in the adoption process, everyone involved has been powerless – a child powerless to stay with a mother; a couple powerless to have a biological child, or powerless to affect the whims of an agency; a birth mother powerless to raise a child well with no support from family or society. Whether we are powerless in reality, or powerless in our own perceptions, each of us feels that loss of power and it impacts multiple domains of our lives. It is as if we are one of the Wonder Twins, and without the piece we’ve lost, we can no longer access our power.

So the question becomes, how do we take it back? This topic has come up in several contexts in the past few weeks, all in relation to adoption in some way. For some, the search and reunion process is a way to take back that power – to literally find the missing piece. One remarkable woman I met through the Birthmother’s support group at ANC (Shameless plug – it’s an AWESOME group of women!), told us that she has taken back her power by “being a birthmother out loud”, which is a foreign concept to me, but certainly seems freeing, and like something I should try.

For me, right now, I think it’s this – being able to put words to the feelings . . . to share them with others who might read and understand. It’s being willing to stand up and say “I am an adoptee, and I am a birthmother, and there is no shame here. I am more than these two experiences . . . and good, bad, or otherwise, they have made me strong.” I know that these are just baby steps. But they are important ones. Slowly, I will take back my power, and I will be whole. Will you come with me? We each have to follow our own path, but we can take the journey together. We can take back our power. And then, watch out world!

Wonder Twin Powers – Activate!

A Good Mom

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 16:13:00 +0100

Over the past week, I’ve had people tell me I was a good mom . . . not only to my daughter (who is 10 going on 35), which I’ve heard before, but to my son. Someone told me again today, and it made me cry. I was 18 when I “made an adoption plan” for my son (that’s what they say now). At the time, I was choosing the family who would raise him instead of me. Over the years, I’ve had people tell me that I did a wonderful thing for him, and I’ve had people tell me that I gave him a gift. But never before has anyone said I was a good mom.

He’s twenty-three now, and two weeks ago, I reached out through a letter to my son’s mom. Because I’m adopted myself, I understand what it’s like to have questions, and to want to know where you came from. . . . and I thought that he was probably old enough to deal with the complicated answers to the likely questions, and that if he wanted those answers, he deserved to have them . . . and I thought that maybe now it would be okay for me to know him without creating any more issues for him than I already had. That’s what I thought . . . what I knew was that in his life, she’s the one who has done all the hard work. She’s the one who was there for the “firsts” . . . and for the celebrations, and the challenges, and the struggles. And she deserves my respect. She deserves better from me than for me to go around her to try to establish a place in my son’s life. So when I felt that it was time to reach out to him, I knew that what I needed to do was to reach out to her first. It just seemed right.

I spent weeks very carefully crafting the letter . . . it was the most important one I had ever written. I wanted to make sure she understood that I knew she was his mom, and that I didn’t expect anything from her, or more importantly from him. I wanted to make sure she knew that I was adopted too, and I understood what that meant, and that because of that, I wanted him to have any answers that I had to give. I also wanted to make clear that any further contact was her choice . . . because she’s his mom. She knows him. She knows what his questions are (if his has any), and she knows what he needs. She knows if this is a good time for him to deal with these issues, or if this needs to wait because of other circumstances that I know nothing about. And I wanted her to know that I know she loves him, and knows what’s best for him.

Two weeks ago, I mailed that letter. And three days after that, I received an email from my son. Communication has been slow and gradual, which is what he wants, and I agree that it’s for the best. And we’ll see where things go from here. But for today, people think I’m a good mom to him . . . not just twenty-three years ago, but two weeks ago, and today. And that means more to me than words can express. To them, I’m not just his birthmother. I’m a good mom.

Thank you Adoption Network Cleveland Donors!

Tue, 14 Feb 2012 15:42:00 +0100

What a wonderful, crazy start to the year it has been for Adoption Network Cleveland and our fund raising efforts!

Our fiscal year begins in October so for the Development Office that is the beginning of our “year.” And it always kicks off with our November mailing. This mailing is a chance for us to share a story of how your support has directly impacted someone or some family.

Each time the donations start coming in I am continually blown away by the generosity of our supporters. With each gift, you are saying that you value the work we do enough to give us some of your hard-earned dollars to support the families and youth who are touched by adoption and foster care. And this year’s generosity was so much more than we expected – thank you!

And then the launch and successful completion of the Groupon fundraising campaign in just four hours! What made this campaign unique was that not only was it time sensitive (we had three days to raise a minimum of $360) but it was also all done via social media. We had to rely on the word of mouth of our members and those on our email list. And your commitment to those we serve was evident the moment those numbers starting ticking up around 8 a.m. on the first day. And the gifts kept coming in even after the goal was met. In the end we raised over $1,000 – all of which will go toward a fabulous slumber party for 12 girls who otherwise may not have ever experienced this teenage rite of passage.

"We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”
-Winston Churchill

I think that quote best sums up what the support of our donors means to the families and youth who are helped through Adoption Network Cleveland. Our families, youth, adult adoptees and birthparents get important questions answered, make life-long connections and find a community that understands their unique needs. They add pieces to their lives that were missing before and our donors become a part of the fabric of those lives through their support; even though they may never meet that birthmother who has reunited with her birthchild or that 16-year-old girl who joins a forever family – nevertheless, a life has been made.

So, thank you again for all that you do and for all you have done. We couldn’t do it without you!

Letter to Executive Director Betsie Norris

Fri, 03 Feb 2012 16:45:00 +0100

Dear Betsie,

I just wanted to thank you and tell you how much I appreciate Adoption Network Cleveland sponsoring the Adoptee Journey series for adult adoptees. I think this is such an important program and comes at the right time for so many adult adoptees! There should be a program like this available in more communities and around the country. I know there are others out there like us who would genuinely benefit from a similar program if only given the opportunity.

Adoption Network Cleveland is really on the forefront with this program in terms of meeting the needs of a group of adult adoptees that have never been addressed.

After my birthmother essentially denied my existence, I was lost. The Adoptee Journey program made me realize that the feelings I was having were normal and ok and that I was not alone. Everything we have discussed has affirmed my existence as an adult adoptee and that I'm not nuts and I don't need therapy! It's ok to think and feel the way I do and I'm really ok. I've been able to discuss things in this group that I never felt comfortable talking about in my own family (for fear of hurting their feelings, not their reaction). I now look forward to the monthly sessions, and consider myself fortunate to be able to attend. The people in the group have become extended "family" to me and truthfully, I can't imagine not having this group!

I just wanted to thank you again and let you know what a difference in my life this group has made!

Betsy G.

The Inside Scoop on the Groupon Campaign

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 18:23:00 +0100

As the Groupon kickoff draws closer, we thought it was important to give you some more information about what exactly will be going on between Jan. 31 and Feb. 2.

Adoption Network Cleveland has been chosen by G-Team, the philanthropic arm of Groupon, to participate in a program that will allow people who receive the Cleveland, Akron-Canton or Youngstown Groupon Daily Deal to make a donation to support our Girls’ Night In program (If you don’t receive them, you can sign up here).

On the daily deal email you receive on those days, you will also have the opportunity to make donations in $10 increments to buy goodies bags with $30 of personal care items for each girl in foster care who participates in the sleepover. So, what is the big deal about that?

Youth in foster care can only sleep in homes that are county-approved foster care homes. That can make it hard to do something as simple as spend the night with a friend.

The Girls’ Night In program will provide a group of girls with the opportunity to spend the night at the Adoption Network Cleveland offices and watch movies, eat popcorn and do all the other stuff girls do at a slumber party.

However, there is an important thing to know about this Groupon promotion. We must get at least 36 people to donate at least $10 (that’s $360) to get any money – this is called the tipping point model. Groupon and Adoption Network Cleveland want to ensure the money you donate has an impact so we have set a minimum amount to be raise that will ensure the money has an effect. If we don’t reach the goal, you don’t get charged – but we want to make sure we reach the goal!

Also, this is important too…100% of the money you donate goes to the program. You give us $10 – we get $10 to purchase the goodie bags of personal care items for the girls. Groupon will pay for all the processing fees associated with your donation.

Sounds easy, right? Well it is, but there is one more thing we need…you and everyone you know.

We need you to spread the word about this campaign. We need you to tell, tweet and Facebook your friends, family and random people you meet on the street to watch the Groupon Daily Deals between Jan. 31 and Feb. 2 and make a donation to the Girls’ Night In program.

The deal to make a donation won’t be available for donations until Jan. 31 and we will be sending out information between now and then to remind you to donate. The deal will typically appear in the bottom right corner of the daily deal so that is where you need to look.

Thank you for your support of this important program and we look to have a wildly successful campaign to support the Girls’ Night In program.

My Own Christmas Box

Wed, 28 Dec 2011 13:00:00 +0100

My Own Christmas Box

I am an adoptive mom. An oh-so-proud adoptive mom … I feel like a mom in every way to my only child Eric, who is almost 20 years old. My love for him spills over and oozes sometimes so much that I am regularly teased about it from co-workers at Adoption Network Cleveland and my family, too. And, Eric just smiles when I get mushy with him. He knows his mom. He knows my appreciation that I am his mom.

This holiday season has been a challenging one and it has brought forward feelings that I’ve never had before … and has brought to the surface some feelings that have been long locked in a box.

On Monday November 14th, Eric left for 13 weeks of Marine boot camp in Parris Island, South Carolina. No phone or email conversations until we see him in Parris Island for graduation in February. We’ve shared amazing letters back and forth, but we’re only halfway through this first extended time apart.

This separation from him has been enlightening to me. It’s brought his birthmother to my heart in a new and deeper way. We’ve all known her these 20 years with our open adoption, and I’ve known and felt her sadness, yet I didn’t feel the magnitude of it until now. This separation is hard stuff. It rips at the soul. It doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong with the universe. Families should at least be together at the holidays.

Yet, I’ve been doing a good job keeping these feelings shoved down and locked into a box. To have them out in the open is too hard. Tears might come. Or worse. I often have wondered all these years why his birthmom hadn’t joined a group of other birthmoms to talk about her feelings. Now, I know. That involves going to that box and opening it.

On Christmas Eve, something surprising happened. I was with a relative who is experiencing infertility and when I started to talk to her about knowing the feeling of facing another holiday without a baby, the tears came. It’s the first time since November 14th that I have allowed myself to do that. I was catapulted back to 1990 when I was in depths of infertility sadness. Then immediately, back to today – thinking, “My God, it’s Christmas and I can’t see or talk to or hug my baby.” What the heck? I am healed from infertility. And, I thought I’ve been doing so well with Eric away. (Writing him daily has helped keep me sane.) But, yet, where are these tears coming from? Then it dawned on me. I’ve been healed from infertility but I am not healed from knowing how to deal with separation. And, here I was in front of an open box. At least, while I was with that relative, I felt safe. Together, we shared tears. I cried for her facing another holiday without a baby and she for me, facing my first holiday in 20 years without my boy.

When Eric’s birthmom and I have talked about him joining the Marines and being away from both of us, I shared with her how her years of separation from him is affecting me in a whole new way. I said that I have a new appreciation for how hard it’s been on her. Her response surprised me. She said, “You’re not used to being separated from him. It’ll be harder on you.” Whew. Then, I imagined how hard it will be when we both see him in February for just a few short days and then, again, will have to say “goodbye for a while.” These next four years of his Marine commitment will have many hellos and goodbyes – much like the countless hellos and goodbyes his birthmom has endured with him over these 20 years.

This revelation has brought big emotions to me this holiday season. Sure, I expected for it to be hard for these first 13 weeks of separation, but I didn’t expect the feelings to go so far and deep – and to have any connection to my adoption journey. I didn’t expect to approach those feelings long locked away.

Opening the box is good for healing, but for now, back inside you go …

A time to be thankful for ... Volunteers!

Tue, 22 Nov 2011 20:05:00 +0100

This Thanksgiving, I want to take a moment to thank all of the volunteers of Adoption Network Cleveland…all the volunteers that are currently active and all the volunteers that helped contribute to make the organization what it is today! As the volunteer coordinator, I have been privileged to work with you and get to know you on a more personal level.

In the past year, 174 volunteers contributed 3,351 hours of service, valued at $71,000. Although that is a really great statistic, it doesn’t really speak to what volunteers have actually done for the organization this past year. We didn’t actually “save” that money because we didn’t have it to spend in the first place. Instead, think of it like this—we were able to DO so much more with what we did have!

Not only do I want to THANK everyone for every hour they have invested, I also want to recognize a few of the different ways in which volunteers have been able to help us accomplish MORE this past year.

Here are a couple of things we would never have been able to do without volunteers:

• Permanency Champion Mentors built relationships with 43 youth in permanent custody waiting for adoption
• General Support and Discussion Meeting Co-Facilitators touched the lives of 197 individuals impacted by adoption or foster care
• Youth Activities Assistants allowed us to provide childcare for 139 families in our Adoptive Family Support Group
• Search managers helped 36 adoptee/birthfamily searches through to completion
• Bakers provided baked goods for over 50 programs

So, I just want to say…
Thank you for sharing your own stories and compassion
Thank you for reaching out to someone in need
Thank you for making the choice to give of your time
Thank you for all the times you went above and beyond
And thank you for all you have done to make Adoption Network Cleveland what it is today!

Wishing you and your family all the best this Holiday Season!

Sincerely,
Your Volunteer Coordinator

If you are you interested in volunteering with Adoption Network Cleveland, please call me at (216) 482-2312 to get started today!

2011 Holiday Card Design Contest

Tue, 25 Oct 2011 13:10:00 +0100

CALLING ALL YOUNG ARTISTS!! The 2011 Adoption Network Cleveland Holiday Card Design Contest is ON. Any local adoptee or youth in foster care, age 18 and under, is eligible to enter. The chosen design will become Adoption Network Cleveland's 2011 Holiday Card. Final dimensions: 4.25 inches wide x 5.5 inches tall. Original can be made larger to reduce down.* Winter Theme: snow, house with snow, snowman, family in snow, etc. Any media acceptable (crayons, markers, cut paper, etc.) for color reproduction. Deadline: Must be received by Friday, November 4, 2011. Please mail or deliver unfolded to: Adoption Network Cleveland, attn: Linda Schellentrager, 4614 Prospect Avenue, Suite 550, Cleveland, OH 44103. Please include artist information - current age with a brief background. *For a pdf template, send email to: Linda.Schellentrager@AdoptionNetwork.org

Legal Symposium on “Permanency Solutions”

Mon, 17 Oct 2011 07:19:00 +0100

I attended the two-day “Permanency Solutions” legal symposium in September as a staffperson from Adoption Network Cleveland, but I also found it profoundly moving as an adoptive parent. Over 250 people who work and live foster care and adoption issues every day attended, including social workers, attorneys, court personnel, youth in foster care and foster and adoptive families. While most of those of us attending deal with foster care and adoption issues on a daily basis, having the opportunity to discuss these issues across disciplines and with youth and families who are directly impacted made the event extraordinary.

Dr. Gerald P. Mallon offered the opening keynote on “Unpacking the ‘No’ of Permanency for Older Adolescents” and told the story of his adoption of his daughter when she was 38 (!) after he had known her for several decades. Dr. Mallon is a professor and executive director of the National Resource Center for Permanency and Family Connections at the Hunter College of Social Work in New York City. His presentation made me think about how adoption really is a lifelong journey, as we say around the Network.

Another moving part of the symposium was a panel on “Portraits of Permanency,” which showed some of the families that had been formed through Partners for Forever Families (Adoption Network Cleveland is a partner on this initiative, which is led by the Cuyahoga County Department of Children and Family Services and funded by a federal Adoption Opportunities grant).

The thing that moved me most, however, was a new dramatic piece entitled Sometimes Hope Is Enough, which was commissioned for the conference and presented by Karamu Theater. The piece told the story of siblings that had been separated by the foster care system and the dynamics that arose when they were reunited at a funeral. It reminded me of some of the dynamics that I feel when our kids have visits with their birthfamilies (both our kids’ adoptions are open.) The piece was well-received by the audience and will be presented in the community several times in the coming months.

On the second day the conference, there were workshops and breakout groups that allowed participants to work across disciplines on case scenarios and learn from others’ perspectives. For me the symposium reminded me of my early involvement in the Network, and how much I learned as an adoptive parent from hearing an adult adoptee talk about what it was like to grow up in an adoptive family . . . what was good and what could have been better . . . or listening to a birthmother talk about her experience of placing her child for adoption and then now knowing for years how the child was doing.

I learned a lot at the Symposium from listening to the experiences of youth on the verge of aging out of foster care. Some of the stories haunt me. All of them make me want to recommit myself to doing my best to finding permanent connections for these youth.

New Website

Mon, 17 Oct 2011 07:05:00 +0100

We have worked hard (and much longer than we’d like to admit!) on this new website for Adoption Network Cleveland. Basically, we were trying to accomplish three things in launching the new site:

Make the website more user-friendly—There’s new navigation on the left-hand side of the home page and across the bottom of every page that will help you navigate the site, no matter how you’re touched by adoption—whether you’re an adoptee, birthparent or family member, adoptive parent, prospective adoptive parent, foster youth or alumni, or professional. We hope you this helps you find the resources you need.

Make the website look and feel like the Adoption Network Cleveland “brand”—When Linda Schellentrager joined the staff three years ago as Communications Manager, she established a fresh new look for all of our materials and we adopted a new slogan: “Adoption is a lifelong journey. We are here every step of the way.” Launching a new website gave us a chance to integrate that message into the website . . . you’ll see the message and our blue swoosh across the top of every page, in fact!

Integrate social media—Social media have really changed the way we communicate in the past several years, and we’ve been trying to use the power of Facebook and Twitter to raise awareness about adoption and foster care as well as the programs and services that we provide. You will find Facebook and Twitter icons in the top right corner of every page of our website. If you haven’t already, we hope you’ll friend us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @adoptionnetcle.

We hope the new website makes Adoption Network Cleveland even stronger, and that this blog will help us stay connected even more. Let us know what you think!