Recently I re-read a book that touched on what I wrote in my last two posts, about how parents of women in crisis pregnancies tend to view the baby as a “problem” at first, rather than as a family member.

The book is My Child is A Mother: A True and Happy Story of Open Adoption, by Mary Stephenson. Mary is the mother of Karen, who got pregnant at age 17. The book, written in 1991, chronicles the story of how the Stephenson family dealt with Karen’s crisis.

Karen realizes from the beginning that she cannot give her baby girl up without knowing where her daughter will be and how she is doing. Someone suggests open adoption, so the family finds themselves at an agency, receiving counseling.

One scene in particular sticks with me.

The counselor asks grandma: "How do you feel about giving up your first grandchild?"

She replies: "I won’t think of this baby as my grandchild. This is just a baby that my daughter’s going to have. Someday she’ll have other children and then I can be a grandma."

The counselor, recognizing the denial for what it is, tries to get Mary to see the baby as her own relative, and someone she will love and whose loss she will grieve deeply. But Mary just can't see it.

Mary also does not let Karen consider any other options other than adoption. She acknowledges that Karen is probably only going along with the plan because it is “the path of least resistance,” but still pushes hard for her preferred choice.

A quote from Mary: "Do it, do it, I prayed silently. Adoption is the only good choice for you."

Later, seeming to realize how this makes her sound, she counters with, "I wanted to offer reassurances that I had not forced Karen to consider open adoption, that it was her choice."

The counselor, who knows that Karen needs to have the freedom to make her own decision, asks Mary point-blank: "If Karen changes her mind and decides to bring the baby home from the hospital, can she come to your house?"

Here is Mary’s reply:

"I’m afraid the answer must be no. We are hoping, of course, that Karen has thought this through and will not change her mind at the last minute. If she does, I am sure she can stay with (friends) John and Tiff for a few days until we find her a suitable apartment."

This may seem outwardly supportive, but we all know a 17 year old is not going to be able to get her own apartment and raise a child without help. The "choice" that's offered here is not a real choice.

Mary’s statement is sad for several reasons. First, she assumes that a woman will know prior to delivery how adoption will affect her, and whether it is in fact the right choice...leaving no room for miscalculation or changed circumstances. (As we will come to see, she herself changes her feelings about being a grandma, but leaves no room for her daughter to change her feelings about becoming a mother.) Second, instead of helping Karen decide what will have the most positive impact on her life, the emphasis is on respectability, doing the "right" thing, and maintaining the role of a nice middle-class family.

On the bright side, the adoption worked out, at least as far as the book takes the story (three years after the birth). It was a very open arrangement, and I hope it still is. (That's good for Mary's sake, because of course she does feel overhwelming love for her grandchild once baby Livia arrives, and wants to play a role in her life.) Had Karen not been lucky enough to be matched with great adoptive parents who encouraged ongoing contact, I bet Mary would be grieving Livia heavily, instead of singing the praises of adoption.

In the end, adoption may truly have been the best choice for this young mom and her baby. But I do wonder if Karen ever regrets not having had the chance to consider parenting. I'm glad the adoption counselor in this story tried her best to protect Karen's right to do so.