The Day I Began Searching for the Daughter I Gave Away

While Jane is writing the next part of her story, we have more interesting data on how birth/first mothers react to learning they are being sought by their children they relinquished for adoption. But first, a personal note:

Like one of our regular readers, Maryanne, I revolted when I learned that the adoption records and my daughter's birth certificate would be sealed to her after her eighteenth birthday, and began quietly searching for her when she was quite young. Okay, as soon as I read about Florence Fisher and the Adoptees Liberty Movement Association (ALMA) in the New York Times on July 25, 1972 in a story headlined: Adopted Children Who Wonder, "What Was Mother Like?" (Note: those interested will probably have to pay to read the piece, as it is in the Times archive.)

Reading the piece it was as if the scales fell from my eyes. My daughter was six years old. I did not realize it then, but that was the day in my heart that I began searching for her. And within the year, I met Florence, began writing about the adoption reform movement, and tried various means to find my daughter's new identity, but all were unsuccessful. I did not formally institute a search for my daughter until she was fifteen, and because all other avenues had been blocked, I simply paid $1,200 to "The Searcher," as he was known, and within weeks had her name, address and phone number, along with that of her parents. They were in a state (Wisconsin) a thousand miles from where I lived on Long Island, New York.

It turned out that he had already found her, and had done the search based on what I had written in Birthmark. I had put all the significant clues in there, hoping her adoptive family would find them, and reach out to me. Wishful thinking, I know. Later I did learn that someone had told my daughter's adoptive mother about Birthmark, but she chose to ignore it. I do not know if the person who suggested she read my memoir saw the similarities in my relinquishment, and their adoption, of a daughter in Rochester, New York on 1966.

But hey, if it was a friend or family member, they had to know the age of their daughter, and where she was adopted...so today I'm going to assume that person was aware that Jane was likely to be the adopted daughter in question. And Mary (my daughter's other mother) did not want to pursue the matter. Remember, this is way back in the dark ages of 1979. Reunions were rare. Very rare.

So, I was what is known as a "seeker" mother; fellow bloggers at FirstMotherForum, Jane and Linda, were sought. Linda was called directly by her daughter and reacted positively immediately, as she has written earlier at FMF; Jane was contacted by an aunt and had a more difficult and lengthy internal emotional process to go through before she was ready for reunion, as she told us in the previous post. But no matter how we reacted to the situation, all three of us became staunch supporters of giving adopted people their original birth records--hell, we're in favor of adoptions never being closed!

Are we anti-adoption? Let me put it this way: I'm not against some form of adoption when the natural mother and her family are totally and completely unable to care for the child. But I have seen too much pain and destruction on the part of both birth/first mothers and adopted people to be much in favor on "adoption" without a zillion caveats. It was just this tone of mine that got me banned from a website chat room of blissful birth mothers called "Adoption Voices." (And by the way, I was invited to join the chat.)

Except for the one first mother who was in an open adoption and eight years later cried buckets when she looked at the son's pictures, or got on the plane after a visit, they were all quite content and happy to have provided a child to complete someone else's family. I posted a couple of times, trying to inject some reality into their gaga stuff I was reading, but whadda know, the administrator yanked me off; told me that the site was about "adoption, not anti-adoption." Linda did some spade work and discovered that a number of the birth mothers posting were...from Utah, the Land of the LDS, The Church of the Latter Day Saints. No comment. Readers might want to join Adoption Voices themselves. I've found other birth mother chat rooms are often supported by an adoption agency....looking for birth mothers who want to tell other birth mothers what a great thing they did.

Now, to the other data from a Confidential Intermediary from Indianapolis, Katrina Carlisle, who is also an adoptive mother.

I am a CI and have been for 18 years. I have 70% birth mothers accepting some form of contact and 30% saying no. Some of the "no" answers end up calling me later with changed minds. When I reach adult adoptees (for the birth mothers) I have almost 100 percent agreeing to at least some form of contact, especially after I remind them this is an opportunity to receive updated medical info.

I am not a birth mother. I am a social worker and an adoptive parent who strongly believes all adult adoptees can benefit from re-connecting with birth families. My daughter is 31 and found her birth family at 23 and it has provided her with a lot of healing and enriched her life. My 34-year old son refuses to consider a search, but I hold out hope that he will change his mind in the future. I also recognize the benefit to the birth mothers in re-connecting with their adult children. I just think it is an all around good thing for everybody. I do a lot of counseling with the adoptive parents to help them understand their child’s need to search.

One thing that has really helped though is asking the adult adoptee to provide me with a non-identifying letter explaining why they are searching and what they are hoping for and also having them include photos. Then I can ask the birth mother if she would like me to send that letter to any address she says, and to read the letter (from her child) before she makes a decision. They have a hard time turning down that letter. I also do counseling and try to support them through telling their husbands or other children about their adoption experience. Our agency is over 100 years old so some of the birth mothers I locate are in their 70’s, 80’s and some even 90’s. They are usually so scared to have this exposed.

I offer birth mothers the opportunity to stay anonymous if they wish. They may correspond with their child through me. I forward the non-identifying letters and pictures they send. Many of the birth mothers choose this option first. It helps them feel protected from someone arriving on their doorstep before they are ready. They feel safer and more in control of the situation. Then, after they correspond for awhile, they begin to feel comfortable and then agree to exchange identifying info. Almost everyone ends up meeting in person eventually. Although, one couple I have has been writing each other for 5 years and still have not agreed to meet.

Katrina Carlisle LSW, BSW

Adoption Search Specialist

St. Elizabeth Coleman

Pregnancy and Adoption Services

After the Birthmother/Adoptee Reunion: Navigating the Turbulent Waters

Photo by Ken Robbins

The analysis of several memoirs written by adopted women we posted recently has generated a lot of commentary, at our own, as well as other blogs. Some adopted women read the analysis by First Mother Jane as highly negative of them and their role in adoptee-birth mother reunions that go awry. Some have accused Jane, and thus all of us, of "blaming the victim," i.e., the adopted person.


This is a complete misreading of both what the essays contained, and our intent in publishing it. In fact, Jane's analysis largely consists of quoted material from the memoirs themselves, with scant commentary, as the words spoke for themselves. All three of us who contribute to First Mother Forum have read many adoptee memoirs over the years trying to understand why our own daughters ran so hot and cold with us, why we found ourselves rejected for reasons that seemed irrational, and found some of the answers in the writings. The words may not have been comforting, but they perhaps provided some solace in that we were not alone in trying to figure our way out of the emotional morass we were mired in.


As Jane once so aptly said, natural mothers feel that once we are reunited we welcome them with open arms--Here is the your family, come be one of us--but the adoptee says, Wait a minute, I've got a family already and I don't feel that same way. I don't know these people and besides...I'm not sure I want to even like you. By examining what the memoir writers had to say, we hoped we could provide first mothers with information on how they might best proceed upon meeting their relinquished child, or how navigate the tremulous waters of a reunion.


As for our own stories, first-time readers should know that both Jane and Linda were sought out by their adult daughters, initially had a good relationship with them, but as of today, neither of them have contact with them as we write; Lorraine found her daughter when she was fifteen, and had a mostly on/but sometimes off relationship with her daughter until she killed herself at 41. (Adoption was only one issue in her life; others were physical problems related to epilepsy and severe PMS.)


We thought it might be interesting for the birth mothers who read us, as well as others, to be privy to a back and forth discussion we had about this topic.

LINDA: (After reading a blog criticizing us for publishing the piece about adoptee memoirs): I actually found enlightening what the adoptee who called us on the carpet had to say; it gave me a window into what my daughter might be thinking/feeling.

And the "it's all about them" (that is, birthmothers) statement resonated with me. My daughter told my sister a long time ago that adoption didn't happen just to me, it happened to her too...but she swears she's a shiny happy adoptee (who has cut me out of her life completely, but not the rest of my family) so what the hell am I supposed to think/say/do?

You know I've given up. I've sent cards, emails, tried to call her, sent presents for my grandchildren. But have been rebuffed for four years now, while she maintains contact with my sister and niece and god-knows-who-else in the family. I can't do it anymore.

LORRAINE: Though we had a long relationship--26 years--there would be times when my daughter would decide she was not talking to me for months--even a year--at a time. Lots of tears on my part, lots of second guessing, If only I had said this instead of that. It felt as if she was never going to stop punishing me, no matter what I did or said. The conventional wisdom is that you have to "forgive yourself." Well, that's pretty damn hard when the object of your "sin" is not able to. You keep being reminded that you are not worthy of "forgiveness."

JANE: In only one of the seven memoir-reunions I analyzed did the mother and daughter start with a commitment to be absolutely honest with each other and try to work through any difficulties. That was the Katie Hern/ Ellen McGarry Carlson reunion presented in the book written by both of them, book "A Year in Letters Between A Birthmother and the Daughter She Couldn't Keep." This book should get a lot more attention.

In the other six memoirs, the parties started off with clearly different expectations and understandings. The daughters were interested only in meeting their own needs (as were the mothers except Sarah Saffian's mother). The daughters did not anticipate a continuing relationship and didn't commit themselves early on to correcting any misunderstandings.

I made incorrect assumptions in my own reunion which has resulted in a lot of pain for me, and perhaps for my daughter, Megan. If we had a made an early commitment to work out our differences, things would have gone differently. I don't know, however, if Megan considered a relationship important enough to make such a commitment. I offered to pay for Megan to attend an American Adoption Congress convention and sent her one of B.J. Lifton's books because I thought it would help her with adoption issues and improve our relationship. She refused to go to AAC. I think she was afraid that she might read or hear something critical of adoption which she would take as criticism of herself and her adoptive family.

LINDA: I agree with you, Jane, I had a lot of unresolved pain and guilt that definitely impacted my relationship with my daughter. But my daughter was never one for sharing her feelings, particularly with strangers, so a mediator/counseling was out of the question for us. And as I've said before, my daughter just dove right into the deep end of the pool without any thought...her father had Fed Exed her personal records (she was 23, it was time apparently), she read the file, saw the letter that said I was receptive to contact, and phoned the agency. All in a matter of a day or two. She was living in a strange city and was alone; I filled a void. I've often said I felt used. Clearly we had different needs...and I can't turn the clock back.

LORRAINE: My situation was quite different because when I found my daughter at fifteen she had a low self-image, due to both being relinquished and having epilepsy, and her adoptive parents were actually somewhat relieved I came on the scene. They and their doctor had tried to find out more about me because her epilepsy was severe, but the agency was non responsive. The killer is that because I had taken birth control pills after I had conceived but did not know, I wrote the Rochester (NY) agency and told them the adoptive parents ought to be so informed, and by the way, could I find out if my daughter was all right? Their doctor's letter was never answered. Mine said that she was happy with her new family. This is how NY's sealed-birth records law works in reality.

Given all that, my daughter's adoptive mother was both welcoming and leery of me. The fact that I was not a Midwestern housewife but a writer (who had written a book about relinquishing my/their daughter, Birthmark) living on the East Coast complicated matters --it made her more anxious and critical of such a "career gal." However, her parents were what could only be called amazing for the times (1981). I met our daughter in Madison, Wisconsin right after Thanksgiving, and her parents let her come to Detroit during Christmas break a few weeks later to meet my mother (her biological grandmother) and the rest of my immediate family; and in the spring she spent twelve days with me and my husband on Long Island. We mostly got along swell, even though there were signs of her issues that we talked about. But overall, the visit went well, so I thought, Hey, this is great, this is how it will be! She and I will be whatever, but we will be.

Not so fast.

My daughter, also named Jane, later admitted that she thought she would find out what she needed and then just walk away. By the time I had heard that, fifteen years had passed, and we had been through several periods when I had been on the Do Not Call Ever Again list for months. There were times it wasn't even anything I said; I'd later find out it was related to something her adoptive mother said, and Jane would feel she needed to prove to her that she was worthy of her love, you know, a good daughter. A good adopted daughter.

Understand, my daughter Jane had a lot of issues and emotional damage, many of them unacknowledged and many related to the effects of her epilepsy, which was severe. Since she could at any minute decide to walk away, I think I was always somewhat unhinged around her, waiting for her to walk away...again. I also think after I came on the scene her adoptive mother (with an older adopted son, and two natural sons who came after Jane) sometimes gave the vibe of, well, you take over now. Actually, she more or less said that once in a letter.

I'm reminded of what Betty Friedan once said to me and others within earshot: adoptive parents are fine with everything about their child until something big goes wrong. Then it's, Oh, he's adopted, he's not blood, he didn't get that from us. Then they blame the birth parents. Maybe that's off the mark in terms of what we're talking about--difficulties in relationships after the reunion--but it did seem to be true in my daughter's case. And of course that impacted my daughter's relationship with me. I'm getting off the track here.

But for all first/birth mothers who have had a reunion but then felt rejected for reasons they do not understand, we will end on an upnote. About fifteen years ago, maybe longer, I heard from a distraught birth mother whose daughter had sent her a letter saying: Please do not contact me ever again. Every birthday is an occasion of fear that I might be receiving a card from you. Please leave me alone. It took me a long time to answer the birth mother because I did not know how to comfort her. The copy of the daughter's seemingly cruel letter fell out of a book about a month ago--I always kept it as a reminder of...how bad things could be--and I wondered what happened to both of the women, mother and daughter, as I no longer had the accompanying letter from the birth mother and did not remember her name.

Through Facebook, the birth mother contacted me again last week with an amazing story: Her daughter, after decades of no contact, called her. Her parents had been adamantly opposed to any contact and were afraid that she might be somehow snatched. No wonder she didn't want contact with her birth mother. But now mother and daughter have met and the birth mother is being very careful. But so far, that's one story of found/rejection/reunion that has to date a ...well, let's call it a "good" ending. I'll wait for "happy."