I haven't really posted on reddit before, but I'm at a loss and just need some help.

We have fostered an amazing kiddo for the last two and half years after 4 previous failed fostering situations. We never intended on adopting, but her case fell apart and ended with the county terminating her parents rights. They appealed and we just found out it was denied.

We have fallen head over heels for her and so when she couldn't reunify with parents we offered to adopt. She agreed and wants us to adopt her. (We would never move forward without her full hearted agreement.) We are now working on everything needed to move forward with that process so she had legal and emotional stability.

Today they asked us what her name will be when we adopt for her birth certificate. First, I'm a bit weirded out they asked us and not her. Second, I asked to clarify what would change on her BC and they said her parents names would be removed and ours put there. That was a huge red flag because I don't want to erase her parents. They raised her for the first six years. They didn't meet the bar the county set for their kids* but that doesn't stop them from being her parents - full stop. My husband and I are in the parenting role and will love her without question, but plenty of divorced kids have multiple parents. We do calls with the maternal grandparents weekly, and if her parents could show they are safe to have contact we are open to therapudic visitation with them also after adoption.

I knew her BC would be changed, but I thought we could request it not be updated with our names. However our adoption worker is saying that is not the case. This is making me wonder what else I don't know about because I simply don't have the vocabulary or background. What questions should I be asking? How do I help make sure her parents aren't completely erased from her history?

TL;DR: My husband and I are adopting a 9 year old from foster care and I want to know what kinds of questions I should be asking the adoption worker.

* There are other siblings but they were separated due to very legitimate safety concerns between them. I'm not going into specifics but they are real. If they didn't exist we would have tried to bring all of the siblings into our home to be reunited. That said, we keep those sibling bonds as strong as we can. We see them at least once a month, often more. We are even going on vacation together so the kids can create memories like that. All of the foster (now adopting parents) are a tribe to one another without exception. The adoption will not change that. As they get therapy and heal from trauma we hope to do sleep overs and other such work to give them as much as we can.

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I feel like I’m betraying my bio son.

To make a long story short, I placed my second child (my son) up for adoption at birth almost 2 years ago this September . It wasn’t really my choice. I never actually wanted to give him up but was in a bad relationship where I felt like I was coerced into placing him against my will. I regret my decision every day and still love my son as much as my daughter who I have custody of. I have a very open adoption so he knows me and my daughter.

My dilemma is, I have since gotten into a wonderful relationship. I have met a really great guy that I just got engaged to. He is such a good person and treats my daughter and I like princesses. He has met and adores my son who I placed for adoption as well. He really wants to have more children with me soon. On some level I want to as well. Im so happy I finally have a stable family and always wanted to have other children.

However , I feel like I would be completely betraying my son by having more kid(s) after placing him. If I had another child I’m worried he would grow up to wonder why I kept his siblings and not him.

The thought of having another child as well also brings up a lot of hard feelings for me about the adoption. I still feel deeply traumatized by the entire situation with my son and I’m worried that’s going to bring up those painful feelings. I still have days where I struggle because of what happened and actually feel suicidal because of giving him up when I didn’t want to. I worry I won’t be able to bond with another child because of how traumatizing it was for me to bond with my son just to give him up when I didn’t want to. It’s truly traumatized me at a level I can’t fully explain. My brain feels broken to the point where I feel this numbness and simultaneous dread about pregnancy and having another child even though I know that’s what I want deep down. I feel like trying to push my fiancé away because of the fear. I just don’t feel excited about the possibility of it like I should.

I want other kids but the thought of having another child makes me want to cry because of what I’ve lost. It hurts so much and I don’t think I’m over what happened. Nor will I ever be over it. I should be happy about getting engaged but I've actually been secretly depressed ever since. Not because I don't love my fiance but because the horrible cloud of trauma about what happened with my son.

For context. My specific situation that got me thinking of this is that while I'm not an adoptee, legally I was born without a registered father and just had my mom. Later my dad came into my life (technically a step father so you better understand it but this man raised me since I was a baby so it's just dad) and I changed my last name to his being legally "adopted" by him. My dad has a different cultural background than my mom, while we are all the same nationality he was raised closer to indigenous communities. And as an adult he has traveled literally all around the world, living in different countries for years. For his appearance he has been mistaken mostly as south asian because of his features and having a heavy accent. And one thing led to another in my head that got me thinking about cases where one or both adopted parents are from vastly different cultural backgrounds than their adopted child.

Now, I know about the white saviour complex, intentional or not so much, of many couples who have adopted children of foreign cultures to them because of their "exoticness". Is very sad to hear someone who has been denied reconnecting with their roots (or simply a part of themselves) because of forcefully adapting to a different environment. I've also heard cases that don't even necessarily involve adoption. Where the parents are from two different cultures and for the sake of assimilation or in worst cases, a sense of protection. They don't involve their child with one or the other culture.

I wanted to hear some opinions on this topic then. How do adoptees relate to their adopted parents cultures when it varies from their own origin? I also apologise in advance if any term I used is outdated or wrong for any reason so feel free to correct me. English is not my first language and I'm not used to the more technical language that is usually used in this type of topics. And there may be some terms lost in translation. But I am very curious to hear some thoughts!

Hi,

I recently discovered that my adoption may have been illegal and that I may have been unlawfully separated from my birth parents. I do not want to go into every detail here, but serious irregularities and potential criminal acts documented in my adoption file have been found.

After obtaining my adoption records from my country of origin, I discovered that my adoptive father provided false information about his profession to a notary in order to be approved to adopt. Several other elements also suggest that my adoptive parents may have been aware of inconsistencies surrounding my adoption.

My adoption documents state that I was a four-month-old premature baby at the time of my adoption. However, photographs from that period appear to show a much older child, as I was able to crawl and hold my head up. Additionally, until I was two years old, my adoptive parents did not record basic medical information such as my weight and height, and I seemingly only begin to appear in official records after the adoption was finalized.
Close family members told me that I arrived at the airport naked, wrapped only in a towel, without clothes or personal belongings, while being received on the tarmac.

My adoptive parents repeatedly told me that the adoption agency contacted them unexpectedly and informed them that I had suddenly arrived in their country. They said they had not been prepared and did not even have diapers or clothes for me, which they had to purchase immediately.

Taken together, these elements make me question whether my adoptive parents knew more about the circumstances of my adoption than they admitted.
I have not had contact with my adoptive parents for the past seven years. They were not able to provide me with a safe and healthy childhood environment. I experienced sexual abuse within my extended family (not by them), and my adoptive parents concealed what happened. I also experienced emotional and physical abuse during my childhood.

They also struggled financially, and I believe this may have been connected to the false information provided to the notary regarding my adoptive father’s profession.

I am looking for answers, but my adoptive parents do not answer my calls. I left a voicemail explaining that I was contacting them about my adoption, but they have not responded.

The only way to obtain the truth may be through legal channels. However, I am conflicted because they are still my family, and I do not know whether they were active participants in wrongdoing or whether they were also victims of the adoption system and its possible abuses.

I am seeking the truth and accountability, but I also want to understand the full context of what happened. Do you think this is something I should report to the justice system or inform the authorities about?

I can’t help but think that if they knew something was wrong with my adoption and had reported it, I might have been able to be reunited with my birth family as a child.

I want to apologize in advance for the long and probably messy text: I'm too overwhelmed to write clearly, and if I wait for my head to clear, I'll never write it.

Two and a half years ago my husband and I adopted a 9-year-old boy. His history: He lived with his father until he was 6, on the streets, (he is Roma) and he has never met his mother. He didn't have "very serious" issues, as he was healthy and was not abused; but he was abandoned by the only person who had a relationship with him (his father). Abandonment obviously has had severe effects on his psychological, emotional, and cognitive development and behavior. He has been diagnosed with severe ADHD and atypical autism and he's medicated to help regulate his emotional outbursts, compulsiveness, and aggressiveness.

He's now 11.5, and he has improved in all areas by any standard; everyone, from friends to teachers to experts, says the same thing: "he's a completely different kid from last year/a few months ago." We, my husband and I, see this too. The thing is, it's not enough.

Daily life has been hell since day one. Every time he's asked to do the simplest thing (we started by having expectations, which was an enormous mistake), he screams and punches things. We've since learned to lower our expectations dramatically, to pick our battles, and to celebrate the smallest wins. And yet, even with all of that, there are still days when getting him to brush his teeth turns into a 45-minute ordeal of screaming, hitting, and things being thrown across the room.

We've tried consistent routines, visual schedules, therapy (his and ours), ergotherapy, parent coaching, medication adjustments, rewards systems, calm-down corners. Some things help a little. Nothing has been enough to stop the outbursts from happening, only, sometimes, to shorten them.

What terrifies us most is what comes in adolescence, because everyone is telling us that things will get way worse, and obviously we cannot stop thinking about whether violence will escalate.

For now, we have lived around 900 days with him, more or less (he has been incredibly lucky for the past year to spend his Saturday nights at his grandmother, who is the only surviving grandparent we have — yep, we both lost our parents this year, so grief is added to the whole cocktail — so we do have a night a week to breathe). But it's not enough. We are depleted from the constant battles, the financial exhaustion from all his therapists and special education and special activities, the energy at home which is always a choice between having a screaming match and him being dirty / eating rubbish, playing PlayStation for EVER (nothing besides it interests him), the disappointment, the desperation. We cannot afford more than we can afford, which means that when he's at school I have to pick him up once or twice a week because he causes trouble there, which means that I have to stop working and never resume, because when he's at home I cannot work — he's only quiet when he plays PlayStation, and honestly we can't have him play every day, all day long. Right now, during the summer, he plays about 10 hours a day, which is truly horrible, but it's the only way he has found he can do some work without constantly stopping. Especially me — I'm a writer and I cannot write unless I have quiet and concentration, which means that my work has suffered enormously; hence my income.

Not to sound dramatic, but I suspect I have developed PTSD; every time he punches the controller on the table instead of leaving the f*** thing down, my heart rate increases and doesn't stop until hours have passed.

Our relationship is hurt. We are both exhausted, and exhaustion has a way of eating everything else — patience, tenderness, humor. We snap at each other more than we used to. We disagree more than we used to, especially about him, and disagreeing about him feels heavier than disagreeing about anything else, because it's not really about logistics, it's about fear and grief and how differently two people can carry the same weight.

There's resentment too, even when we don't want there to be, even when we know it isn't fair. And there's guilt about the resentment, which makes everything harder to talk about. We love each other. We are also, both of us, running on empty, and it shows in how little we have left to give one another.

And things will NOT get easier, only harder.

I feel resentment and desperation and I really, really, really don't know how to cope. Especially with the strain on our marriage; we're two people feeling alone in very challenging circumstances.

I cannot feel love for the kid, it is impossible. And I don't expect him to love me either; that was an expectation I abandoned soon enough. For some time now, we only aim for safety, stability, trust.

We have privately admitted to each other (since we are definitely not allowed to share a thought like this to any of our friends and most of the therapists we have been talking to) that we have regretted the adoption; but we're both people who would NEVER, EVER abandon the kid — again. We feel cheated by the system, by no one preparing us for this, by no one explaining to us that our lives would not only change (we expected this), but that everything would be upside down, for ever, that we would not find a single positive thing to cling to. That we should have been BILLIONAIRES to be able to deal with what adopting an older kid requires.

We have tried oh-so-many therapists and most of them are saying stuff that we have already read online; but we don't want theory, theory we already have. We want PRACTICAL advice, what to do when you feel like you're going to kill yourself from the exhaustion and the kid does (or doesn't do) the same thing for the trillionth time in one day. And what to do the next moment, when another thing happens, and then another thing happens, and then it's 10:56 pm and you must decide whether to have a shower or eat before you go to bed to wake up for the same hell to start all over again. We never get that practical advice; instead we get a pep talk, that we are brave, and it's difficult, and kudos for doing this. This is only when we get angry at therapy sessions; when we're tired and only trying to express exactly how we feel, we're judged.

Oh; and also everyone has an opinion about raising him, obviously; at first we tried to explain that we have done everything they have suggested but it didn't work for this and that reason or that it worked partially but then it produced another issue, and we just ended up having never-ending conversations about the kid in the very few moments we had for free, for ourselves, outside the daily life with him, and we really couldn't cope. Now we only say "this is a GREAT idea! Take him for a week or two, do what you suggested, and then tell me if it worked!"

To clarify: From the start we agreed that we would NOT expect the kid to be grateful (we knew from the start that if this would happen, ever, it would when he's much older, in his 30s or something), or call us mom and dad (we don't care about that at all), or him reflecting us somehow (he's completely different than any of us, which we expected), or anything like that. I mean it's not like we were expecting a reward that never came. We only wanted to do something nice (hence we decided to adopt an older kid and not a baby), we felt lucky and relatively privileged (we're definitely not privileged now, our financial situation is destroyed), and we wanted to offer what we have to someone less fortunate.

But we are not saints: the idea alone that we have helped someone escape a worse fate is not enough to help us deal with what comes with it every single hour, every single day. We need something tangible to help us keep going and we don't have it. The good days (of course we also have good days) don't last long; they pass quickly and they take away our expectations with them. And then there are those days that take you back to the beginning; things are so horrible that it's like he's been with us two weeks.

Of course we've had good moments; of course we have bonded — it's impossible to care for another human being and not bond with them, even by accident. Of course we sporadically feel joy. But the main theme is exhaustion, frustration, desperation. It's so hard, and I wouldn't do it again if I had known.

Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this. I wanted to call attention to the lack of support by the system(s). They just give you a kid and say "good luck with that, then!"

And I wanted to share my story because there's silence about this; there are VERY few people who talk openly about what adopting older kids entails, because if we talked more and more openly about this, fewer and fewer people would adopt older kids, and this we don't want.

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UPDATE: I really didn't expect this many people to respond, or for it to help this much. I've read every comment, some of them more than once.

Thank you; to everyone who shared your own story, your kid's story, your practical advice, your recommendations, even just a "this sounds hard."

It's a lot to take in, but I feel less alone today. Thank you for that.

A few months ago I found my birth mom and we reconnected. I was originally born in Vietnam when she was 19 and was given up for adoption and was brought to the U.S. 26 years ago.

The whole process was recorded by this well-known Vietnamese Youtuber (lowkey very maury povich-like). Long story short, a few months ago we reconnected and took a DNA test that confirmed that she is indeed my birth mom. The reunion wasn’t as heartwarming as one would hope it to be. She hardly asked me about myself or about my parents and it was a little disheartening if I’m being honest. Even now, she mainly just asks me about my health and how my job is rather than actually getting to know me (though this may be a really Western-Centric POV).

I learned that she is very poor in Vietnam and sells lottery tickets for a living. She was married to a man who is not my birth dad (she doesn’t even like me asking about him) and had three kids but they are now separated.

A few months after we started talking she asked me for money to pay for my half-sister’s college tuition. I politely said no and then she didn’t reach out for a few weeks after. I was very hurt after this.

I know I am privileged, not wealthy, but definitely more well off than even those in certain parts of the U.S. But I don’t even know my sister’s name.

Back when we did the DNA test, it was a few hundred USD and I offered to pay it but she never even said thank you.

Fast forward to a few days ago. My youngest half-brother reached out to me and introduces himself. Cool, I get to talk to my sibling. My birth mom then asks me if I talked to my brother and I said yes. The next day she asks me for a few million dong for the sae brother’s tuition. My half-brother messaging me feels like a set-up and I can’t help but feel hurt.

Yes, I know it’s probably only $40 USD but I hardly know these people. I know I could very easily send $40 but it would still feel like I am being used as a piggy bank when they hardly even know me. Yes, they are my family by blood but they are basically strangers. I know it is a very selfish American POV.

I am not wealthy, but I am not poor and I admit I am pretty fortunate. I live with my elderly mom and help take care of her after my dad passed away but pay for almost everything myself except for rent. I know Asian culture in general is very different than the U.S and is very big on sending money to family abroad to take care of them. But they do not feel like family to me.

Everyone on the Youtube video (it was very popular in Vietnam) was saying now that we are reunited I can support my birth mom and maybe even sponsor her. My boyfriend’s family (who is Vietnamese) said I should give her some money.

It is not that I don’t feel sympathy for her position. I really do. And I should note that she seemed genuinely happy to find me after 26 years. But I also don’t want to give her money just to make her stop asking because I worry that it won’t and it just feels dirty overall. Advice? Insights? I’m trying really hard not to be an American a**hole but I also want to have boundaries and protect this very new and strange relationship and not complicate it with issues of money.

Thank you in advance!

I am a 40 year old woman with diagnosed infertility. I wanted to be a mom for a long time and researched everything with donor eggs.

I recently pivoted to adoption and afoption from foster care. Why? Because I feel like at this big age I dont want to be 50 years old with a ten year old. I also wanted to give someone out there a chance. I have alot of support.

My husband wants to adopt an infant. He believes that there will be better attachment and bonding.

The thing is, I feel so guilty and stressed out we are not on the same page.

Update: After reading the comments I felt like I needed to post an update. I kind of did a quick vent, and didn't offer alot of comments. Some of the comments of course warrant that reaction. A few things.

1. Foster to Adopt: Foster to adopt is for children whose parental rights have been terminated. In a parent centric system, parents do chances to reunify with their child(ren). However, in some cases these children have lost parents and permanency and they are not able to return home.

2. Yes, I am infertile and there is no fix. I feel like the way I phrased it was triggering to some those who experienced something else.

3. The wanting to be a mother dosent mean automatic erasure. It can mean diffrent things to diffrent people. I do call people who are not my bio mom, "mom". Mothering means more than having a baby. Sometimes, you are one of many "mothers" in a "village".

4. The part that upsets me the most, if my husband did no freaking research. Like at all. Its just upsetting because of how much work and thought I put into adoption.

5. Adopting a kid is always a self assessment. You start with you, your house, and what you can handle. So yes, I am going to talk about myself. I viewed kind of the level of experience and support. I voiced not being able to be a physical. I play soccer and tag with the children in my family and then cook dinner from scratch. Can I do that at 50 or 60--maybe not.

I feel like I am really struggling mentally as an adult and I was basically wondering if anyone has had a similar experience? I am just now seeing so clearly that my mother has a really bad case of “I hate you, don’t leave me” and ever since I found out about my adoption, she’s been almost weaponizing the fact that “she saved me” in what seems to be a really pathetic yet effective way to make me feel guilty about being mad at her.

I was adopted from Novosibirsk, Russia, and brought to New York in 2003. I’m now trying to find my original birth and adoption records because I know almost nothing about where I came from. I called Manhattan Family Court’s Adoption Department, and the clerk searched using my adoptive name, birth first name, date of birth, and my adoptive parents’ names. She couldn’t find a matching file.

She told me that many older adoption records were paper-only and stored in a Brooklyn warehouse that burned in 2015. She said a large number of files were destroyed and that only a small number of adoption files from 2003 survived where she was searching. She could not confirm that my specific file was destroyed, though, so it’s also possible my adoption was finalized only in Russia, registered in another county, or handled through a private agency.

My adoptive parents are estranged from me and have given me conflicting stories about what happened to my documents. I don’t know my original Russian last name, my birth parents’ names, the orphanage, the adoption agency, or the Russian court. I’m working with someone in Russia who helps adoptees search for birth family, but he needs at least some identifying information before he can begin.

I’ve requested my immigration file from USCIS and am also checking old school and medical records.

Has anyone else been told their NYC adoption records were lost in this fire? Were you ever able to confirm it or find copies through USCIS, an agency, another court, passport records, or somewhere unexpected?

Yup. Finally did that. I don't know how I'll do this or how to afford it when I'm already in debt. But decided that I want to know who what happened. The detective says I need to pay the first half I wish I saved some money so I can pay it but I guess I can wait a bit more I've already waited 22 years for this.

Couple years ago I would have told you adoption is the best thing that happened to me but as time pass and I get snippets of extra information about this situation the less it sits well with me. I'm finally realising I wasn't simply adopted but I was human trafficked. With no legal backbone.

And worse of all I finally realise maybe I wasn't even given willingly. I thought of this before of course. We do get occasional news about trafficking organisations in hospitals. But I guess I didn't wanna believe I might even be one.

For context this is my story:

The friend of the person (my parents neighbour from their then vacation house) who arranged for me to be given to my parents owned a baby clothing store. On the day everything happened, the two of them were apparently sitting in that store. According to what I was told, one day a few nurses or midwives (my mother isn't completely sure which) came into the shop trying to pick out clothes for me. When the owner saw them, she went over to help, and they told her that I had been abandoned and that an orphanage would come the next day to take me. After hearing that, the shop owner said, "I know someone who could take the baby. you can give her to them."

They immediately brought me to my parents. They told my mother that they had taken out a loan to cover the birth expenses because the woman who gave birth to me had not paid them, so my parents paid those costs which would be around 5.655 in dollars today.

The only documentation they received was a single piece of paper with a few details about my birth written on it.

A few years ago, however, I found another document in a cupboard. It was signed by my mother and someone who's name I will not mention, stating that "there is no longer any financial or moral/legal relationship between us." with their legal signings.

Then, this Mother's Day, my mother found the phone number of the acquaintance who had arranged everything and gave it to me. They themselves didn't really want to speak to me, and their children were especially panicked. Apparently, they were afraid I would pursue legal action through official channels. My mother reassured them, saying, "My daughter would never do something like that."

I've been thinking about this for several months now. I've decided that I want to find out what really happened. I also don't believe I was the only child they arranged to place with another family. The description we were given of my birth mother also sounds incredibly stereotypical: a young, overweight woman who supposedly didn't realize she was pregnant.

I don't believe that

1)they could give away a child that has a birth certificate and had gotten her first shots (it was written in the paper) so I was either falsely classified dead or didn't get a birth certificate right away which is suspicious either way

2)how would they even physically get me out of there without getting caught if this was not a known operation? If the child services WERE notified as my APs were told they'd surely come looking for me dead or alive

3)the was this woman got so scared that I have access to her phone number now is weird. I am aware that it's still not legal and I could get her in trouble either way but she according to my mom still got nervous after she told her I would never get her in trouble (which yes I would tf? Don't talk for me)

4)the description of the BM is too stereotypical. Young, had a baby with boyfriend, didn't know she was pregnant, was bigger so belly would hide even in full term pregnancy, her own mother says "your brothers would kill you if they found out" seems like the perfect coverup to me.

5)AND MOST IMPORTANTLY I was vacuumed out becouse i was born in occiput posterior position. I could have been just said to be loosing oxygen which is again a perfect coverup for a child to die during labour.

6)No hospital information given to my parents. Ever. During or after finding out there is a child available for adoption.

There's so much more I could talk about and I might some other day but I can't believe I'm in such a vulnerable position right now. In one hand I now realise I could have been given without consent which makes a whole new world of possibilities I never let myself hope about. I've always help my guard up against even the thought about my birth parents. I felt hate, bitterness, anger you name it. Meanwhile I felt that I was "saved" by my adopted parents.

It's just all makes sense now. I think this is why my adoptive mother insisted I give my inheritance form my adoptive father to her since "I'm her only child anyway". She confessed couple months ago that she fears I'll find my adoptive parents and be swayed away by them and give them all my money. She has always planted resentment in me about them. She'd never admit tho. She'd always tell me stories about childeren that learned they're adopted but felt so loved they didn't even think about finding their birth family as if that's some type of test of love.

I was told I "can" search for them after collage but again these stories and being told I was "fated" to be given to them becouse she cried at a mosque too much and I was her "gift" from God almighty even tho there was so much suffering inflicted on others for God to "give" her that gift.

And to be breastfeed by my adopted mother who had milk from access prolactin from years of treatment (I was born 24 years after their wedding, I was their last resort. They COULD have adopted legally they just waited to be old enough when they tried to finally apply for adoption they weren't eligible for a newborn.

As if I was some kind of purchase they were denied. They could have adopted a 2 year old. Instead they chose to remain childless (which, that's just what I've been told MAYBE they might have even found these people beforehand to arrange a newborn for themselves which ends up being me).

I was just supposed to fix her fertility issues. To fill in a space. I was a newborn separated from I'll I've ever known and that day was all about her. She tries to justify this by saying she had to get a baby under 2 becouse she needs to breastfeed a under 2 year old infant in order to become a mother in the religious sense (that's a rule in Islam). Then admits she wanted a newborn to feel like she just gave birth. To live THROUGH me.

Even if her reasoning was that I couldn't be a mahram in the religious sense. They had ever time in the world those 24 years to adopt a newborn. I was their last resort. She tells me how she regrets her feelings about adoption before she got me becouse to her when she first help me it felt like and I quote "it felt exactly like I've given birth and I loved you just the same".

She says how I was such a quite newborn as it I wasn't in survival mode. And now acts confused about my mental health. I wonder why...

California is one of the states that doesn't allow adoptees to access their original birth certificates. There is pending legislation to address this egregious rights issue.

SB 381 will be heard in the Assembly Appropriations Committee on August 5.

If you're in California, you can call the members of the committee, even if they're not your representative, and tell them that you'd like them to vote yes on SB 381. You can find contact info on the Assembly Appropriations Committee page.

The following is copied directly from the California Alliance for Adoptee Rights:

This is the last committee stop before a full Assembly floor vote, expected around August 17-19th.

SB 381 is not law yet, but it has passed every vote so far unanimously or nearly so, and we’re closer than we’ve ever been.

Want to be part of it in person? Come join us at the Capitol for the Assembly floor vote. We’d love to fill the gallery with supporters watching SB 381 move toward becoming law. 💙

Thank you for being part of this with us. California’s adult adoptees are closer than ever to finally having equal access to their own birth certificates

I want to adopt sooooo bad. I know I have the resources and the finances to raise another child. I also know I can provide a child with a very loving home with siblings and pets. The fees associated with adoption is where my problem is. Are there any resources out there that would help?

Whew! Ok I understand now why people are against for profit adoption agencies. My intentions were not to upset anyone. 💜💜

Hello I don't speak a word of English or almost are there any French around here? I have a lot of questions about the search for a biological family at the end of the 90s, thank you good evening to all :)

About a month ago, a woman claiming to be my biological mother wrote to me. As proof, she provided a copy of the medical certificate of renunciation and a hospital discharge summary from the birth, issued on the day of my birth. Her birth and renunciation were anonymous, so neither my parents nor I knew her name (I was born in Spain, where this is legal, but I don't live there now).
Tbh, I was so interested to speak with her and decided not to tell my parents about it (She said that this can't be done, idk why I believed her) but a couple of days later she started saying that my adoptive parents had separated us, that they were bad and she is the only person who loves me, and that she had big money problems and she wouldn't be able to communicate with me unless I gave her money. I transferred her 50 EUR of my own money, which I saved from my birthday…
After that I realised this wasn't normal and decided to come clean and tell my parents. They asked me to give them her contact information and block her, which I did. My parents decided to talk to her themselves, but she wasn't very friendly, but very rude to them and threatened to find me and take me away from them and demanded money. My parents said it was okay if I'd already given her money once, but I should absolutely not do it again. She may be my biological mother, but all she wants from me is money.
My parents asked her to prove that she was my biological mother, she gave some information that really seems to prove she’s my biological mother (we are both left-handed, we have the same rare blood type, I have the same eye color and we have similar facial features, judging by her photo on WhatsApp.) But she still couldn't clearly explain how she found me.
A few days ago, my parents blocked her and said that if she tries to write to me again, they will come to Spain, find her through the police and sue her. But the very next day she wrote to me on another account and started begging me for money, assuring me that she is broke, she has been writing to me every day for 5 days in a row, I don't know what to answer her, I'm thinking of showing this to my parents again, but, I mean, she is my mother... Doesn't she have the right to communicate with me?

Throwaway because this is very identifiable and I’ve kept some details vague for privacy.

I (31F) was adopted internationally after being abandoned as a toddler. I had no identifying information, no birthday, birthplace, or family details, so I never expected to find my biological family.

My adoptive childhood was complicated. My parents struggled with mental health from abuse they’d experienced themselves in their childhoods, had a difficult marriage, and we lived isolated from extended family and community. I also experienced racism growing up as one of the only people of colour in my area, including one incident where I was shoved and told to go back to my country, and my parents dismissed it as kids just being kids and said it wasn’t racism.

Things improved as I got older. I had therapy, moved to a diverse city, built a supportive network after realising it wasn’t normal to live such an isolated rural life without any siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, family friends etc.

I realised that no wonder my parents were too busy shouting at each other and at me, they were completely isolated themselves and were totally dependent on each other for their entire world of connection, as they had no friends or family nearby. I was also isolated and totally lacked the support network I needed growing up, nevermind the isolation I got from all the racism. I got the space and perspective I needed from moving away; and my relationship with my adoptive parents became much healthier. I also got married and found a network of supportive friends. My parents and I have a much better relationship these days, although they still never really understood my desire to connect with my culture and origins and we will never see eye to eye on racism and politics etc.

Last year I hired a searcher. I had almost no information and my birth country is enormous, so I thought the chances of finding anyone were tiny.

Somehow, someone recognised me from a poster because I looked exactly like a former neighbour’s daughter whose older sibling had been given away, this was in a city 4 hours away. DNA confirmed they were my biological family.

At first it felt like the most impossible thing had happed.

My family called it “a sign from God.” My older sister showed me decades of diary entries, drawings imagining what I looked like, baby items she had kept, and records of searches she had done. She told me losing me was the most traumatic moment of her life, that she loved me, and my whole family begged me never to disappear again. They talked about our future together, our future children playing together, and how our story didn’t have to end sadly.

My younger sister struggled more. She admitted feeling guilty that she had been born and kept when I wasn’t. I reassured her she had nothing to apologise for and gave her space.

My husband and I spent over $5,000 travelling there, hotels, flights and gifts, plus thousands more on gifts, meals, and expenses while we were there.

Unfortunately, the reunion itself was much harder than expected.

They refused to let me hire a translator because they didn’t want a stranger present, insisting we could manage with phones. I had been taking language lessons and cultural classes for years, but I was nowhere near fluent. I tried pushing back saying how I won’t be able to understand much but they insisted. I didn’t want to cause tensions early on so I agreed.

However in person they spoke quickly, rarely repeated themselves, and became frustrated when I didn’t understand. I tried asking them to repeat themselves, but they would refuse saying how they can’t be bothered to repeat themselves. They kept saying “Our language is easy, you’ll catch up if you listen properly” perhaps it was meant to be encouraging but it was very frustrating to be sitting there not understanding anything and nobody else downloaded translation apps onto their phones so it was down to me to make sure I understood.

So I sat there a lot feeling like I wasn’t included. Everyone was talking about me but not talking to me. Nobody seemed to care that me and my husband were struggling or looked uncomfortable or disorientated, they just seemed annoyed a lot that we didn’t know our way around the city or the country. It felt like we didn’t have an opportunity to share it or navigate it together.

They also mocked how little I knew about my own culture, despite me constantly asking them to teach me. I would mention things I had learned in classes and ask if that was part of our family culture, but they usually just said “no” or “sort of” without explaining. I also of course had no idea what region I was from so I wasn’t prepared to learn specifics from our regional culture, or our religion.

They also asked me not to tell people or post online because they didn’t want attention, but then they posted about me publicly and invited the entire town to meet me.

Something else also confused me.

The family that left me behind had become financially stable and all my siblings went to college and have decent jobs now. My younger sister was born only 1 year after I was abandoned, meaning that they got pregnant again almost right away. It seemed that there was in fact a “place for me” it’s just that they had instead had another child and moved on. I never received one consistent explanation as to why I’d been given up, but I accepted that perhaps I’d never know.

Near the end of the trip, my younger sister suddenly exploded. She called me ungrateful and disrespectful and said my gifts were inadequate, and brought them all shame. She claimed I owed my birth parents everything because they gave me life and so my gifts should’ve been even better.

I was completely blindsided. I had repeatedly asked beforehand about expectations, googled cultural taboos and was told not to worry, that they “just wanted me home.” I had researched gifts carefully and tried hard to choose things they would appreciate based on their personalities and interests and we had spent so much on these gifts, I was confused.

I didn’t argue back. I apologised, asked what I could do to make it right, and tried to communicate in a language I didn’t fully speak. She never replied and just left after outbursting at me.

The rest of the family mostly ignored it and brushed it aside. Nobody seemed interested in addressing what had happened, My brother just said she was difficult and didn’t have many friends and that’s all they had to say about it. Nobody seemed concerned about me or my feelings.

I never heard from my younger sister again.

Despite this I carried on talking to my family after the reunion and saw my younger sister more as perhaps a blip and an oh well, it can’t be perfect type situation.

A year later, I got the opportunity between roles, as I had 1 month before starting a new one; I decided to use this to return for for a month to take daily language classes and spend more time reconnecting.

Everyone initially seemed excited. My older sister talked about buying gifts for my future baby because my husband and I had started trying.

Then, after I booked everything, my birth mother suddenly told me not to come because I would “never be able to do the culture properly anyway.” She refused to explain and stopped speaking to me.

My sister reassured me everything was fine and our mother was just being overly cautious.

Then, days before I flew, everyone stopped replying.

Eventually my sister sent me what felt like every adoptee’s worst nightmare.

She completely turned on me.

She called me selfish, ungrateful, disappointing, and deceptive. She criticised my husband, saying he should have showered them with more gifts and praise despite the fact he had. She criticised my life choices and said the family was disappointed in me and the person I’d become.

She claimed I had made no effort to learn the language or culture, despite the fact that I was literally flying there to study and had spent years learning and was constantly asking them for guidance or info about our culture.

The strangest part was that all of these accusations were things that simply never happened. Because 99% of relationship had been through translated messages, I could compare what she claimed I said with what had actually been said.

It was so mind blowing because it was just lies and made up things. Most of the cases she pointed to I had said or done the opposite. I had said things like “ I’m happy to be accommodating, what can I do? I’m happy to learn about this, I’ll go and do some research” etc, I constantly googled cultural polite phrases, and asked when I didn’t understand but apparently I’d been rude, disobedient and was someone who outright rejected our culture and didn’t care enough.

And the vitriol which she spoke about how I was a terrible person was so shocking. It was just a message filled with hatred and a list of all the bad qualities about me, and my husband.

She even claimed we had spent nothing on the reunion despite the thousands we had spent to be there. She said that our relationship was uneven and they had given everything. Completing flipping the script on me.

I still went on the trip for myself and continued my language classes for me.

I was there for a month.

My birthday happened while I was there. They had once promised we would celebrate my first birthday together as a family.

Instead, I heard nothing.

No message. No meeting.

The sudden rejection has honestly hurt more than if they had never wanted contact at all.

I almost wish they had never told me they loved me, searched for me for decades, and begged me never to disappear again. Being pulled so close only to be abandoned again has been incredibly painful.

I have reread every conversation, and so have friends and family. None of us can understand what happened, what triggered them. At this point I suspect there were family dynamics and mental health issues I was clearly not aware of. Suddenly my younger sister lashing out and my mother, doesn’t look so random. It seems
to be how they communicate.

What makes it harder is that I joined a reunion support group for adoptees from my birth country and another reunion group from my orphanage, and almost nobody’s experience looked like mine. Their reunions were complicated but still loving. Even distant families still wanted contact and never grilled them about what they “owe”.

I met another adoptee from almost the exact same area whose reunion was completely different. Her family was not perfect, but they accepted her. They allowed translators, they visited, showed around the city, showed her our religion, showed her how to navigate the culture and they maintained a relationship. There was never any comments about her owing them, listing off money they’d spent or talks about her not knowing the language. She was welcomed in and received a lot of the grace and guidance that had been missing from my own experience. She was never expected to instantly know everything, nor was she expected to instantly catch up with the language / culture.

I keep wondering what I did wrong or why my family was so different to everyone else’s. Why did mine have such impossible expectations and others were so much more accepting and accepting of the situation. It’s so painful looking at those posts now and seeing them all hopeful and sharing how their birth parents have accepted them back and didn’t ask them for anything or expect complete knowledge of the language or culture.

I tried so hard to learn the language, embrace the culture, and be respectful. I asked questions, researched, and kept trying. Tried to be mindful of cultural differences, tried to never overstep and understand the privilege growing up in the west has given me, tried to always meet their expectations and never ask too many questions so as not to upset them. When they’d say things about the past and say how I was not there, and I did not prioritise the family at that point. It would almost be a tone as if it was my fault somehow. Yet I watched other adoptees who knew nothing about their culture or language be welcomed without ever having to prove themselves.

My therapist pointed out something I hadn’t realised: the entire relationship seemed built around what I owed them. The entire goodbye message from my sister was about how I was expected to travel, adapt, learn, spend money, prove myself, and repay them for giving me life, while there was little acknowledgement of what I had lost or what I needed or what they owed me in return. It was all about how I didn’t stack up and about their needs, and no self doubt or reflection about their role in this towards me.

Now I don’t really feel like I fit anywhere. I don’t relate to domestic adoptee groups because of the growing up in an interracial family and not knowing any info and also the cultural and language differences. But now I don’t relate to Asian adoptee groups either because now I know some info and I know many adoptees would jump at the chance to meet their families. But now I don’t relate to reunion groups either because I no longer have a reunion. I’m in a weird in-between place.

Coming home was incredibly embarrassing. Everyone asked how it went, and I had to explain that we were no longer speaking.

Some people questioned why I searched in the first place, and now it feels like this has “proven them right,” even though I know it shouldn’t.

At this point, reconciliation isn’t something I want.Friends have asked if I replied to my sister or reached out again. I haven’t.

After reading that message, I lost hope. She was so convinced I was a terrible person that I don’t know how someone comes back from that without admitting they were wrong about everything, nobody is going to do a 180 like that.

They also knew I was in the country for a month and never contacted me, not even on my birthday.

Some things really can’t be undone.

The hardest part is that I still love them, especially my sister. She spent years searching for me, told me she loved me, dreamed about our future, bought gifts for my future children, and talked about our families growing up together.

I was just beginning to know her.

Then suddenly she was gone and now apparently hates me. And now what? I just love the memory of her forever, oh great.

After nearly 30 years apart, we only had one year of contact and only 1 week in person.

I never expected a perfect reunion. I expected awkwardness, distance, and complications. I would have accepted occasional contact and a sort of distant connection to my past.

What I wasn’t prepared for was being told I was loved, being promised a future, finally allowing myself to hope, and then having it all ripped away without explanation and being blamed for everything.

The hardest part is that they still have each other. They still have their family. I’m the one who has been shut out again.

My adoptive family care about me, but they don’t really understand this experience and can’t support me through it in the way I need, they sort of view it as an oh well, you’ve got your life here and don’t see how devastating this is. Seeing my birth family and how they have so much belonging, never question where they are from and yet I’ve spent all my life being out of place, never fitting in my adoptive family or the community I was raised in and isolated it was really tough, seeing how big my birth family is and how they’ve all got each other, even if it’s not perfect they have a sense of belonging, shared ancestry and secure community roots I’ll never have.

Has anyone experienced anything remotely similar? I feel incredibly alone, especially since none of the Asian adoptee stories I read online seemed to match mine. People either seemed to be rejected outright or went onto challenging but at least ongoing reunions.

I’m also not looking for people to judge my family or tell me what I should have done differently, this is still very raw and please keep comments nuanced. I’m trying to process something that has been incredibly confusing and painful, and I’d really appreciate hearing from anyone who has been through something similar, as I have absolutely no idea how to heal from this. I can’t really even accept that that’s it, that’s the grand reunion that happened after decades apart.

So I was supposedly born in Sept in 1998 in south Boston Va. (USA). My whole life I always felt as If didn’t fit into the family I was place in. They claimed they remember the day of my birth but something just not adding up. My gut keeps telling me that they aren’t my biological family. Plus all I keep hearing, I was supposed to be a boy but came out a girl. I believe I was switch around at birth & place with another family . Don’t get me wrong, I look a little similar to the family that claims to be my biological family but I just don’t see it/feel it. With all of my “aunts & uncles”, I always felt a nasty energy tours me. Even til this day. I remember growing up some lady that was friends with my “mother”, always told me she named me & my supposed to be mother agreed. That part never made sense to me. How can you Carry someone for so long & let a family friend name me?. Now that I think about it I kinda look a little similar to the lady that named me but I could be wrong. I just want to find my real family! Im tired of keeping quiet. So my question to anyone is do you all know anyone that had an African American female in South Boston Va, in September, 1998 & was told they were having a girl but had a boy?. South Boston,VA is a VERY small town! So please if anyone knows anything! Pls don’t be afraid to help me find my biological family! Pls! Im 27 years old & till this day I still feel like I chasing after something I won’t ever find until I hit some luck . I just want to meet my biological family !.

Hey y'all, I'm looking for some advice, preferebaly from other adopted kids who have been in similar situations. So i'm a black dude who was adopted by a white family as an infant, I talked about some of it on here before, but for short it wasn't the best experience. Through out the years as I grew into my identity as an black man, I started clashing more with my parents' conservative views on things and it led to me going no contact with them for the last 5 years. But recently I got a message from my older adoptive sister saying she would like to try to mend our relationship and I'm kinda uneasy about it. We never really got along much growing up since she always seemed to see me as some kid she wasn't related to trying to steal her parents from her, and always shut down my attempts to bond with her. So eventually I gave up and we just never talked. But shes getting married soon and says she wants me there, but like why? Also I'm very pro black in my views and just how I carry myself in life at this point and don't care to go back to the "quarter zip" respectable presentation i'm assuming they will expect of me if I come over. But I dont know, It's still a big deal for her and she is my sister at the end of the day so I still do care about her I guess, Just don't know if I want to deal with all the baggage that coming to the wedding is gonna bring. Any adoptees have similar strained relationships with adoptive siblings and got advice how to navigate this?

Hi everyone, I would like really like to talk to someone who was adopted in order to understand the difficulties and the conflicts they have faced within a romantic relationship.

This is very important to me because of a personal situation I am going through and I am truly interested in understanding the perspective of an adoptee. I hope someone is willing to talk 🙏🏻 also Dm if you prefer. English is not my first language, hopefully I have expressed myself as clearly as possible. Thank you

I recently met my potential bio dad (he and bio mom were got married when she found out she was pregnant and told him it was his), but there is enough doubt that he may not actually be my dad.

He and I have discussed a paternity test and he is leaving it up to me. He’s fine either way and his motivation to reach out to me was primarily to give me an opportunity to ask questions that I’ve probably had my whole life but didn’t get answers.

I’m not sure the extent of where our relationship is going to go to start with, but I’m worried about what may come of it if we do a test and find out he’s not.

I’d like to think that I wouldn’t care since I’ve gone this long without, but wondering what will actually bubble to the surface if that’s the outcome.

I’m also worried about how he will take it as bio mom is a fucking awful person and really hurt him so bad that he’s carried that trauma with him for almost 40 years and really hasn’t talked it through with anyone that whole time.

We've been on Georgia's adoption waitlist through DFCS for 3.5 years and have completed everything except the home study. The home study agency that contacted us said they weren't currently onboarding families with our preferences and so we would need to be waitlisted.

Because we have a young child with special needs, changing our preferences (to include special needs, and children older than our child) isn't a realistic option.

Has anyone else been in this situation? How did you get your home study completed?

My wife and I adopted our oldest son at birth 14 years ago. His birth mother was 36 when she gave birth. She had recently divorced after a marriage in which she had five children. After a one-night stand with a man she didn't know, she became pregnant. Because of some health issues, she didn't realize she was pregnant until she was about six months along.

She told us she kept the pregnancy hidden from both her ex-husband and her children because she was worried it could be used against her in the custody proceedings. We met her through mutual friends, and she chose us to adopt her baby. The adoption went smoothly, and the birth father voluntarily terminated his parental rights.

It has always been an open adoption. For the first five years, we sent her monthly photos and updates. Since then, she has kept up with our family through social media, and whenever we're passing through the area where she lives (about 1,500 miles away from us), we make a point to visit.

She has never told her other children about the pregnancy or about our son. We've always viewed that as her decision to make.

I'm a physician and work with medical residents. Recently, her oldest son matched into our residency program. She let us know ahead of time and had introduced us to him while he was still a medical student, simply telling him that we were close family friends. He's now married with two kids.

We've had him over for dinner, and it was striking how much he and our son resemble each other—they look like brothers, which, biologically, they are.

For now, we're respecting his birth mother's decision not to tell her other children. At the same time, we can't help but think it would be meaningful for our son to know his biological half-brother.

Has anyone been in a similar situation? If so, how did it work out? How did you balance respecting the birth parent's wishes with the adopted child's interest in knowing their biological family?

A few additional details: Our son has autism and mild intellectual disabilities. We've always been open with him about being adopted. He has a scrapbook with photos of his birth mother at the hospital, along with a letter she wrote explaining why she chose adoption. We do intend to respect her wishes, but I'm interested in hearing from people who have navigated similar situations.

Edit: When the half-brother came for dinner, the invite was that he was a medical student rotating away from home and he was starting applications for residency. His mom put us in touch and he came over for a welcome and for me to give him advice for applying. Didn't plan to bring up anything about the connection at that point. We told him that we are friends with his mom and he didn't ask anything additional.

Also, thanks for the advice. My wife and I will be contacting the birthmom and asking her to tell him and then going from there. 14 yrs is a long time for her to hold this secret. Her youngest from her 1st marriage is in his early 20s now (she had 5 sons each 2 yrs apart), so it's time her kids learn the truth.

2nd edit: yes, my son knows. No, I'm not worried about him spilling the beans. First off, he was told after the dinner. The dinner was a year ago while half-brother was rotating at our residency program. I invited him to dinner to give him advice I applying for residency and how to successfully navigate our residency program. We told our son afterwards. Half-brother is now in the residency program. I interact with him when he's at my hospital and when I'm helping with resident didactics. Very unlikely that my family would see him unless we invite him over again. What we are considering is talking to birthmom and then inviting him and his family (wife and kids) over to talk to them about it.

Not worried about anyone at work spilling the beans. The only other person that knows is the residency program director who is truly a vault when it comes to these types of things.