A father grieves his troubled adopted son

Edwards Hirsch

Although I have compassion for Edward Hirsch and Janet Landay, I have to believe that if they had known something about the effects of adoption, their son might be alive today. Instead he died of an overdose in 2011 at age 22. The elegy Hirsch wrote for him is the subject of a New Yorker article "Finding the Words" by Alec Wilkinson.

Hirsch and Landay adopted their son, whom they named Gabriel after the Biblical Gabriel, at six days. Although Gabriel was born in 1988, when open adoptions were advocated by adoption professionals and were becoming commonplace, Gabriel was adopted in a closed adoption, arranged by attorneys. The parents' ignorance about adoption--admittedly this is a harsh word--is sorely evident throughout

At AAC: Transracial adoption from those who live it

Jane & Julie at Chinatown Gate

Jane here. I'm at the American Adoption Conference in San Francisco with my husband, Jay. Along with hearing some great speakers, I'm spending some time with my youngest daughter, Julie, who moved here from Washington DC last year. Last night the three of us went to Chinatown for dinner.

San Francisco always has special meaning for me because my first daughter, Rebecca, who I surrendered, was born here. While awaiting her birth, I lived only a few blocks from the hotel hosting the Conference. I don't find myself stressed out over this, no grief, no sighs of sorrow. I am happily living in the present, at least now.

My experience at this conference is totally different from my first AAC conference in 1998, a few months after Rebecca and I connected. Then my long held secrets were exploding, bursting to come free. I found myself telling strangers things I had never told anyone. I was so excited to hear others say what I had only thought and was never sure if my thoughts reflected truth or