The Bio and Legacy of a Pound Pup

There was never a time I did not know I was adopted. In fact, there was never a time I did not feel different, not-quite-right, and not altogether like those around me. I have always felt like I was the outcast, the mixed mutt..the runt... the one who got chosen to live among strangers not because I was wanted, but because someone had to choose me, otherwise I'd be put down or left to die, whichever created less stir for the public.

I was born in 1968 in Newfoundland, Canada, a hot-spot for infertile Americans in want of a healthy white newborn who was "orphaned" by its unmarried and "unfit" mother. I was not born an American; I was manufactured to become one.

As an adult, I learned the facts surrounding my adoption story were nowhere near the "facts" my adoptive mother told me about my adoption history.

According to my adoptive mother, I was a bastard child; the unprotected result of a drunken woman's illicit affair with a traveling marine biologist. According to my adoptive mother, my birth mother was married, but not to the man who fathered me. According to my adoptive mother, due to strong religious beliefs, keeping the child from an affair, and terminating an unwanted pregnancy were not options for my first mother to consider. According to my adoptive mother, the best my first mother could do was give her baby up for adoption. Apparently she chose a service that worked closely with people in the United States.

I was told my birth mother was an educated, married alcoholic who made the same mistake so many women make: she had unprotected sex and got pregnant; she decided to keep the pregnancy, but not the baby.

As much as my adoptive mother made it clear I was not wanted by my own "irresponsible" mother, I was very much wanted by my adoptive mother, a woman who had a very difficult childhood, and always wanted a little girl of her own to dress and take to the stores. I was that lucky pup in the pound; I was the lucky little girl who got rescued. Thanks to the determined desire of my adoptive mother, I was saved from the life of an orphan left to live in an institutional shelter in a notoriously poor region with few positive prospects for the future. Lucky pup that I was, I was chosen to live in the United States. At ten months of age I was moved from the desolate region my birth-mother decided to deliver and relinquish me, and I was brought into a "stable" and established family, complete with a big house, with a big yard, an older brother, dog, and a very large extended family. Adoption stories for an "orphan", left in a negligent care-system, don't get better than my own, or so I was constantly told.

I grew-up in an affluent suburb of NYC, where adoption from another country seemed odd yet admirable. My adoptive parents made sure I experienced every club, hobby, and lesson a little girl could be given, whether I wanted the opportunity, or not. In return, the least i could do was show-off my talents to anyone my adoptive parents wanted me to entertain and impress. As their little trick-pony, all I had to do was perform to their very high standard, and smile. I was able to read before first grade; I was able to dance, sing, and play the piano. I did gymnastics and figure ice-skating. I was The All American Girl, living The American Dream.

Unbeknownst to many, I was razed to believe I would never be able to survive without the generous hands and help of others. I was told, repeatedly, I could never make it out in the word on my own, and I would always need someone (like my adoptive parents or my future husband) to take care of me. I was told I had many talents, but I simply didn't know what to do with them, so I needed someone to take control of my life, for me. I was told I could never be trusted to live like a responsible independent individual. With all of those negatives cemented in my mind, I was trained to do as I was told, with the understanding that it was my first job and top priority to serve, heal, and please the hurting adoptive mother in my life, without question or reserve... all with a song and a smile.

As a whole, my main role and purpose in my adoptive parents home was to fill the empty gaps and mend a number of broken hearts, spirits, and relationships. I was loved when I was serving others; I was despised when I was doing nothing, like doing something I enjoyed, by myself. I was envied by cousins and classmates who thought I had all a child could ever want, and I was pitied by those few adults who questioned just how stable my adoptive mother really was.

Most of all, throughout my childhood, I was bullied. I was bullied by classmates and family members alike -- all because I was "not one of them". I was bullied, beaten-up, and made fun of by those who believed I did not deserve all that was given to me, through my adoption story

In my adoptive family, there were many rules. There were rules for my brother - the biologic son of my adoptive parents - and there were rules for me. There were rules for those who were blood-related, and there were rules who were not. The end-result became very simple: Those who were blood-related to my adoptive grandmother could do no wrong; those who were not were nothing but unwanted trouble.

When I was nine, I was sexually abused by an older member of my adoptive family. This abuse went on for three years. During that time two other members of my adoptive family, one male and one female, used me for sex, as well.

Since one of the most important rules for me was to keep whatever happened in our house and family private, I felt as though I could never tell others what took place in the company of certain family members, or how I was treated by those who seemed perfectly fine and not at all out of control. More than twenty years passed before I got the slightest sense of knowing just how bad my level of acceptance of bad treatment had become.

In 1986, I graduated high school, and earned my escape through a small private college, which was an hour and a half away from my adoptive parents home. The freedom I experienced was both terrifying and exciting. All that was denied and deemed "unacceptable" was suddenly available, and every decision was my choice to make. Because I was no longer under house command or parental rule, I had no sense of safe limits; I had no sense of "too much", or "this is bad for me". As a result, I made the mistake so many young unprepared college kids make: I turned to drugs and alcohol and made my higher education my lowest priority.

After my second year of living away from my suffocating adoptive family, I proved the point my adoptive parents always tried to make. Indeed, I could not make good decisions for myself.

Despite all the "fun" I was having, I was actually numb, if not miserable and wishing for death. Each day, instead of attending classes, I was doing drugs, drinking, and having careless sex with multiple partners. I would purposely put myself in very risky situations. There was a dark repressed side of me that was emerging, and it was hungry for all the things I was told were very wrong and bad for me. In college, where people thought I was so happy and having such great fun, I was suddenly very angry towards those who had parents that were not only liked, but also respected and loved.

I could not be around people who had happy childhoods or were happy to see their parents. I could not bear conversations about happy home-lives. I would have terrible flash-backs of images and smells I didn't want to see or smell. I would leave a person mid-conversation, not to be rude, but as a way to avoid the anger, stress, and resentment that was constantly growing inside of me.

The more I was away from my dysfunctional adoptive family, the more I saw just how bad and dangerous that placement turned out to be.

My time away from my adoptive parents did not last very long. In 1988, my adoptive parents announced I was no longer going away for my education. I was told I was not going back to the college I both hated and loved. Instead, I was told I was going to live at home, pay rent, pay all my expenses, (including tuition), and attend a local nursing school. I was told a career had to be chosen for me; I would become a Registered Nurse, and the only way I could leave the house again is if I got married, and had a purchased house to move into.

While I was always able to shut down certain parts of myself off to others, college had changed me in a painful yet positive way. Having lived away, and among "normal" people, I came to realize I was not like those who had parents who kept them; I was not like those who got adopted by very nice loving people. No one but me knew just how very different my family-life was from the fictitious version my adoptive family would present, for others to see and admire. This fact made me more than very angry. I was full of resentment towards every person who was able to escape a crap-family, and find a new, better family for him/her self.

In college I learned: What I myself considered very normal was not at all within the scope of healthy family living dynamics. For example, I thought every set of parents slept apart, confided intimate details about adult relationships with their youngest child , and did nothing together as a "couple". Instead, based on what I was hearing from other students around me, I slowly learned and realized, for the most part, it is not healthy for a married couple, or family, to avoid physical affection and real intimacy with each other.

When I turned twenty-one, I was more than desperate to either kill myself or get married. The double-life of abuse-victim/"lucky adoptee" was too much for me to handle. I could not stand how much my adoptive mother got praised and supported, and how "difficult" I was depicted, all so she could get the emphatic sympathy from the very few friends she kept. I started to hate my adoptive father for saying nothing about the actual state of his chronically depressed and disabled wife; I grew very angry that no one was working in my defense.

I got married when I was twenty-three. I said yes to marriage and the start of my own family because I could not live with my adoptive parents any more.

At the time, I thought I was marrying a man who was nothing at all like my adoptive parents. It took only one year to realize I had merely changed my name and address, because little else had changed. I was still not allowed to do things, like go out with friends or buy something without asking permission. I still had to hand-over my pay-check, and do all the cooking and house cleaning and whatever "women's work" that had to be done, before I could do something for myself. My sex life was not a partnership; it was in my new owner's control. As a married woman, I was not an adult; once again I was a child playing the role of wife and mother, keeping secrets from friends and family members.

I was in my early thirties when I finally found the adoption papers my adoptive parents kept from me. Upon first glance, I realized there was an enormous amount of information missing from my "legal" documents.

The papers I found featured changed names and questionable dates. My non-identifying information, as it was reported by a social-worker, was not at all as my Adoptive mother presented it. The only detail that matched my adoptive mother's story was the fact that my birth mother was indeed a well-educated woman.

This news was dismantling for me. For the first time, I truly did know who or what I was.

Meanwhile my husband could not be more annoyed with my grief as it related to my newly updated adoption story. According to him, I never stopped talking about my past; I never got over my difficult childhood. According to my husband, all I did was complain, and more disturbing, I did nothing to change the relationship between me and my adoptive parents.

My husband was right.

A year or two after I got married, I decided it was time for me to make a major change for myself. With my husband, who knew much about my adoptive parents and very strict family-life, I sat down with my adoptive parents, and I explained to them why I was so angry with them, and why I did not come around the house very much. I explained why my seemingly always happy disposition suddenly changed when I was in the fourth grade. I was hoping they would use all they knew about me, and all they knew about the people I brought into the conversation, and use that information for my benefit. I was hoping my adoptive parents would see the truth behind my confession, and in turn, they would give me the help and support I needed so I could pull myself together.

Instead my adoptive parents insisted every thing I said was a lie.

My husband could not believe how easy it was for my adoptive parents to dismiss me, and deny any wrong-doing.

My adoptive parents made it very clear: when it comes to preserving one's family reputation, it's best to have the adopted child removed, so no more scandal or gossip could be generated.

I believe it was very easy for my adoptive parents to explain my chronic absence to others. After all, it's easier to say, "our adopted daughter had many mental-health issues, due to her anger toward her adoption and biologic mother", than "our adopted daughter was abused for many years in her childhood, and we realize she needs our help".

Based on my own adoption experience, including the complete rejection from my "forever" parents, I have learned just how difficult it is for the angry adoptee to speak-up about his or her painful childhood, and all the loss and grief that goes with it. I found it especially hard to talk to others about my difficult circumstance when my audience followed the strong belief that every foreign-born adopted child is "lucky" to become an American, and no matter what, that child is much better in America, than anywhere else.

Since I could not find a supportive audience in my real day-to-day life, I turned to the Internet. When I was thirty-seven, with two children, I found my first Adoption Community. I was more than relieved and ecstatic to join Adoption.com; finally I was free to vent about my ugly adoption story, and not be dismissed, judged, or ridiculed.

Little did I know an unspoken adoption-fact: When the angry foreign-born adoptee speaks up and out, he/she is not only negating the goodness of adoptive parents, but that adoptee is bad-mouthing the United States, as well. Given the American adoption community, as it exists on various websites found on the Internet, how could any American adopted person claim such a thing?

Such ungratefulness from an adoptee can never be forgiven.

The truth is, while I did not want to be adopted - or kept - by the couple that was chosen for me, that never meant I was anti-adoption. How could I not want a much better life for myself? How could I not want to be like those really happy, thankful adoptees who were once neglected and abused, but then taken-in by incredibly loving and patient people?

In retrospect, I believe much of the toxic family dysfunction that existed in my chosen family could have been minimized or even prevented had those responsible for my permanent placement taken a deeper, closer look at the entire extended family in which I was expected to thrive and call my own. I truly believe, had I been monitored, and questioned by a social worker every few years, I would have told that person the various types of abuse I was enduring, with the hope that some sort of change would take place so so the terrible cycle of singled-out abuse would not continue.

The opportunity to report-back to my adoption agency and tell them about the abuse I was enduring never presented itself.

Given my own experience, and those examples of abuse we have archived on Pound Pup Legacy, I cannot, for the life of me, find the benefit of inter-country adoption when the foreign-born adoptee is placed in a negligent/abusive adoptive home. Something must be done to help regulate who can - and who cannot - adopt a child.

Unfortunately, to this day, I hear and read over and over again how many prospective adoptive parents complain about the "invasiveness" and "extent" of the Home Study. According to many prospective adoptive parents, the adoption process should be shorter and easier, not longer and more extensive. I don't mind it if a placement agency can work very efficiently, (shortening the waiting-period between each step towards an adoption), but I do mind if a home-study is superficial and does more for the sake of the person who wants to adopt a child than for the long-term well-being of said child. I believe a home-study should reveal and reflect the true nature of each adult relationships existing in an adoption candidate's daily life. I believe the coping mechanisms used by a candidate during an extended period of stress need exploring.

Not once did I ever believe my adoptive mother was the only person who ever tried to fool and lie to other people, so her life (and personality) could be seen far more ideal than it actually is or was.

Without an extensive in-depth home-study, how can the pre-screening portion of the adoption process be used and an effective means to ensure safe child placement?

Sadly, I find the topic "abuse in adoptive homes" is still overlooked or dismissed by many, because in-theory, all adoptive parents are good, loving people who are well prepared to parent a child, or two. Much of what I hear from other abused adoptees comes in the form of private conversations and emails/texts, and I have found many of us share shocking similarities in terms of the home-life and type of parent who was allowed to adopt one or more child. The most disturbing part is, while there are indeed notable red-flags for the trained professional working for a child placement agency to spot and identify, these red flags are ignored.

Forty-five years after my own poorly chosen placement, adopted children are still being placed in dysfunctional homes, and they are going in these homes unmonitored and unchecked. Such a reality should not be, especially since so many studies have reported the long-term dangers and effects caused by long-term child abuse.

In fact, thanks to media attention given to children who have been abandoned and or abused, we have learned without intervention and corrections, victims of child abuse are more prone to develop serious issues like adult on-set headaches and mental health or drug problems. We have also learned for some adopted children, the stress they experience during the most formative years of development may cause future health-issues that are not related to one's family genetics, as exampled in the recent study, "Childhood trauma leaves mark on DNA of some victims".

In private, many adult adoptees have told me how the stress of their own adoption has affected them. Some complain about health issues like uncontrolled high blood pressure at a young age, with or without headaches, insomnia, and severe gastro-intestinal disorders. Other complaints include classic mental-health issues that feature anti-social behaviors, like anxiety, bed-wetting, and an inability to maintain happy drama-free relationships.

The bottom-line is simple: just because a home-study is performed by a paid social worker, and pre-screening and parent-teaching is completed through an adoption agency, that does not mean the standards of that service-provider are high or the chosen parent(s)/family is fit and prepared to care for a child who has already endured severe multiple traumas, well before his arrival to his new "forever" home.

As members of the adoption community, I think we all deserve to see more transparency, especially when it comes to the workings of an adoption agency. We ought to be able to see how each adoption agency prepares prospective adoptive parents and adoptees for a new-way of life, and we ought to be able to read annual reports that reflect post-placement needs through close monitoring.

To date, I get many complaints from adoptive mothers saying once their adopted child is home, all "available" support, leads, or suggestions made by the representatives from their chosen agency are gone. It's as if many adoption agencies want to help their paying clients to obtain a child, but once the child is in the home, it's time for the agency-services to end. For many adoptive parents, there's no teaching about the effects of trauma and stress on a child; there is no preparing a parent for a child who has a gross language barrier. For many adoptive parents, there is no supportive network for those who find their adopted child is not fit to live in a traditional family/home. There are craft-workshops and tours to motherlands; there are websites created by and for adoptive parents, but when it comes to the very important services adoptive parents and adoptees need for a measure of future success, far too many adoption agencies fail to meet even the most basic post-adoption needs.

Whether it is recognized or not, it is the pound pups, (adoptees with poorly chosen owners), who end-up on an alphabet soup of prescription medication, or become addicted to something, whether it be drugs, alcohol, sex, or anything else that ensures self-destruction. Over and over I have lived and seen it myself: Pound Pups live dual lives; we have no idea how it is to be loved, appreciated, and happy. Our ability to trust is limited. Worst of all, there seems to be so very few people in this world who are willing to take a look at our histories, and see the logic behind the fact that it will take many years, (not weeks or months) to undo the damage poor child placement, and an unchecked adoption system, does to a developing individual.

I have yet to read a study that reflects the prison rate, suicide rate, and rate of debilitating illness found within the abused adoptee population. I have yet to read any long-term study that concludes even an abusive adoptive home is better for a child than long-term residence in a well-funded children's home or orphanage.

In my opinion, if the American adoption industry wants to be respected by all of those touched by adoption, America needs to create a universal standard of international adoption practice. To ensure good, consistent practice, adherence to this higher standard needs to be monitored so the future wellness of the adopted child will be treated like the top priority it deserves to be.

Fortunately, a very small baby-step has been made for the current generation of foreign orphans put on international adoption-lists. It was recently reported that tougher laws are at hand for those touched by international adoption. In short, adoption agencies have to meet a stringent set of standards, (the Hague Conventions), if they plan to be in the international adoption business. Any U.S. adoption agency that does not meet those standards, and have Hague accreditation, will no longer be able to process international adoptions.

While the news at first may seem very good for those of us seeking effective adoption reform, I'm afraid the changes being made are not enough.

As an adoptee who endured life in a dysfunctional and abusive adoptive home, and for the sake of child-safety for the adoptee,,I would like to see higher standards set for social workers and adoption agencies to follow, keeping the adopted child's future needs in-mind, (and not the adoptive parents wants as a top priority, as we currently see). I would like every prospective parent applicant to take a personality test, or at the very least, receive a reviewed evaluation by a licensed psychiatrist. I would like the home-study to include an evaluation of extended family members, including former spouses, in-laws, and children parented by the adoption applicant. I would like to see a standardized teaching-plan that is followed by all processing adoption agencies.

This teaching plan ought to include, but not limit itself to critical and essential topics like: the effects stress and trauma have on learning; signs of grief in various stages of child development; the effects extreme discipline and punishment have on a child; which therapies used on adopted children are safe, and which ones have been deemed dangerous, (even fatal), for the adopted child; and I would like each prospective adoptive parent to be familiar with the physical effects maternal separation has on an infant.

In addition, just like background checks and home studies are required by law, I would like to see post-placement monitoring of the adopted child to become a mandatory requirement for as long as the adopted child is a minor, or under the age of consent.

Last but not least, if positive, effective adoption reform is going to become a reality in America, I truly believe it cannot be done without the voices of the adult adoptees who have been placed in an abusive adoptive home environment. When it comes to meetings and conferences for members of the adoption community, it seems as if the voice and opinion from adult adoptees is not welcomed unless the topic in-focus relates to traditional adoption issues like "original birth certificates" and "trans-racial adoption".

Given all that has been reported about child trafficking for international adoption, abuse in adoptive homes, and re-homing, there are so many additional adoption issues that need to be presented to various leaders within the American adoption system. Voices from the victims must be heard and considered, so the problems that plague so many adopted children can be addressed by interested law-makers, and those who maintain a strong influence within the adoption industry.

If the United States wants to continue to improve the lives of adoptable orphans, (and not have it's doors shut by a growing list of sending countries convinced American adoptive parents are not the most fit to parent a foreign-born child), it has to be willing to create the change that is needed to ensure each adopted child is accounted for, and is safe from exploitation, neglect, and abuse. Even the most ardent critic must agree: Without more change, any less effort from the United States is simply not in the best interest of a child -- adopted from another country, or not.