Billion-dollar baby trade: The darker side of adoption

By BARBARA DAVIES

No one can begrudge Foreign Secretary David Milliband the joy of adopting a second child from America. But as a Mail investigation reveales, there's a much darker side to adopting.

At first glance they look like dating websites; hundreds of happy couples captured in soft-focus photographs, waxing lyrical about their love for each other.

But read on, and you quickly discover that these chocolate-box perfect husbands and wives have something far more serious on their minds.

In the U.S. 30,000 babies are adopted annually

They are searching for babies - and in the U.S. that means big business for the thousands of private adoption agencies, which can easily procure a newborn for those prepared to pay up to $40,000.

"The average cost of a new car is more than the cost of an adoption," trumpets one Californian agency.

"If adoption is your priority it can be designed to meet your budget and can indeed be affordable."

This week, Foreign Secretary David Miliband and his 46-year-old wife, Louise, announced they have adopted a second newborn baby boy from the U.S.

And while there is no suggestion of anything in any way untoward in the Milibands' case, their decision has thrown a spotlight on adoption procedures in the U.S. which differ vastly from the UK.

In fact, here, where contraception is free, terminations are easily accessible and single motherhood is widespread, it is virtually impossible to adopt a healthy newborn baby.

In America, however, which has a strong anti-abortion lobby and where the struggling welfare system makes raising a child almost impossible without a regular income, there is no shortage.

David Miliband adopted a second child from America

In the U.S., around 30,000 such babies are adopted annually. In the UK, the figure is around 150.

Of course, one can have nothing but admiration for families like the Milibands; unable to have children of their own, they will undoubtedly make loving parents and experience all the joys young children can bring.

Yet an investigation by the Mail this week reveals the disturbing truth about some parts of America's billion- dollar baby brokering industry.

While state-run adoption agencies do exist, in the majority of cases, healthy, white, newborn babies are sourced by "adoption attorneys", baby lawyers who - for a price - can make dreams come true for childless couples.

There is no suggestion that the Milibands used anything but the most reputable methods to adopt their latest son, Jacob - but as our investigation reveals there are some states where, thanks to local laws, impoverished and pregnant young women can be offered generous "expenses" throughout their pregnancies, which can include luxury accommodation, maternity clothes, food and cars in return for handing over their new babies.

These women are often drawn in via highlyemotive advertising.

One website tells potential 'birthmothers' in its publicity blurb: "You deserve safe and comfortable housing."

Those who agree to have their babies adopted are housed in luxury apartments complete with swimming pools and gyms - all paid for, of course, by the adoptive parents.

Then there's a Baby From Heaven Adoption Service which promises: "You will be blessed for giving life to your child."

The website adds: "Giving up a baby for adoption is often described as an 'honourable sacrifice'.

"Although the adoption community sometimes overlooks your contribution and sacrifices, we want you to know that we understand your decision is an act of love. We believe adoption is a life-giving option."

Or the Alabama agency Adoptive families.com, which says: "The miracle of adoption is your choice."

Elsewhere, on the Facing an Unplanned Pregnancy? section of The Adoption Network Law Center website, it states: "Birthmothers are the generous women who have made a choice that will enrich a child's life."

This agency promises pregnant women "a beautiful adoption experience" - including luxury accommodation - adding: "Birthmothers deserve the pleasant dignity of our facility."

Prospective adoptive parents pushing themselves forward to be chosen from hundreds of others by birthmothers also often resort to stereotypical images of what the perfect parents should be.

Websites run by these adoption attorneys feature hundreds of white middleclass couples, desperate to become parents.

Birth mothers write about how giving up their child to "worthier", not to mention wealthier parents has been their greatest achievement.

On one website, a young birthmother who has given up her baby writes: "My baby now has the opportunity to be something."

Of the parents taking her child, she adds: "They fulfil my dreams of what I some day hope to become."

In a typical profile of two would-be parents, a husband describes his childless wife Julie in something resembling a sales pitch: "Before becoming a stay-at-home mom, she taught both kindergarten and first grade in Catholic schools. Julie enjoys cooking, baking, exercise, tennis and scrapbooking."

In fact, a propensity to baking and helping out with school PTAs seems to feature highly on most profiles of would-be mothers.

On top of the expenses, prospective adoptive parents must pay thousands of dollars to the attorney to draw up the legal adoption papers.

Understandably, to protect their two children, the Milibands have asked for details of their arrangements not to be made public. But because Mrs Miliband - a violinist with the London Symphony Orchestra - was born in Britain and her family moved to the U.S. when she was a young child, she has dual citizenship.

U.S. adoption laws allow its citizens to adopt while living abroad. Non-American couples can adopt only if they remain living in the U.S.

Mr Miliband, 42, and his wife adopted their first child, Isaac, in December 2004, and when they wanted a sibling for the two-year-old, the Milibands returned to the States for their second child, a boy named Jacob.

Their delight at adopting Jacob will be the same as that experienced by Kym Porter, a 42-year-old advertising executive from Bakersville, Ohio, who watched her adopted son, Cameron, being born and cut the umbilical cord.

The baby's mother, an unmarried 27-year-old, told the midwife: "It's their baby. Hand it to them," and the wailing little boy was placed in Kym's arms.

Like the majority of couples who adopt infants, Kym and her 41-year-old husband David arranged to adopt the child before it was even born. They attended ante-natal appointments with the pregnant mother, paid her medical, legal and living expenses, and $12,000 later were proud parents.

"It was just like doing it myself without having to go through the whole pregnancy and labour," says Kym.

"It was our baby from the word go. It was a perfect scenario - an easy and pleasant experience."

It was also in her case, she admits - "very, very expensive".

And of course, many would-be parents spend thousands only to find that new mothers refuse to give up their babies.

When this happens, they have no legal redress and cannot get their money back.

Before meeting Cameron's mother, she and her husband were linked up with another birthmother, who, says Kym, was "very demanding".

"She'd phone and say that her car needed to be repaired or she needed money for rent. Towards the end of the pregnancy, I started to get a bad feeling about the whole thing and said to our attorney that I thought she wasn't going to hand the baby over. I was proved right."

Since then, Kym and David Porter have adopted another son, Jayden, who is now four years old - and for whom they paid "only" $10,000.

The ease with which such couples adopt in the U.S. is, of course, a million miles away from the experiences of childless couples in this country, whose dreams of adopting a baby of their own rarely ever come true.

But in the UK, the purpose of adoption is clearly defined as being to help children in need of a secure and stable home.

In the U.S., the emphasis has been turned on its head, with many private adoption brokers twisting the procedure into a lucrative way to satisfy the demands of desperate childless couples.

David Holmes, chief executive of the British Association for Adoption and Fostering, explains that the needs of the child should always be paramount.

"In the UK, the presumption is very much to keep families together," he says.

"We have seen a huge change in society since the Sixties and Seventies when women were relinquishing babies because of attitudes towards single and unmarried mothers.

"Society has moved on hugely. A quarter of children are born to singleparent families.

"Although a number of babies still are relinquished, now the majority of those waiting for adoption are children who have had really difficult early lives, who have suffered abuse and neglect.

"There's a strong imperative in our law to support families and keep them together as much as possible and to make decisions for each individual child. The welfare of the child is at the centre of everything.

"Obviously, it's important where tiny babies do come into the care system that they are adopted quickly, but it is also important to be certain that it is what the birth mother wants. In the UK, there are safeguards to ensure this happens."

On the rare occasions that a baby is available for adoption in the UK, it cannot be adopted before it is six weeks old.

In the U.S., a baby is often handed straight into the arms of the adoptive parents after the birth and is legally signed over within hours.

Carol Jordan, a 30-year-old pharmacy technician from South Carolina, handed over her baby girl, Elizabeth, when she was just 48 hours old and has regretted it ever since.

She was 20 and virtually penniless when she fell pregnant in 1999.

"I looked under the 'crisis pregnancy' section of the Yellow Pages," she recalls.

"An ad offering free counselling and advice caught my eye. It was a Christian agency.

"The woman told me to come in straight away and when I got there, she talked about rates of poverty among single mothers and the 'win-win option' that was adoption.

"She said a well-off, Christian couple of my choosing would adopt my baby. I would have the chance to live my life unburdened by single motherhood, while my child would love me even more because he or she would have every opportunity to succeed in life.

"When I said that I didn't want my family to know, she said they could provide me with housing and protect me from the influence of my family."

Carol moved in with what was known as a "shepherding family".

As she puts it, "the perfect, made-for-TV family".

She adds: "I felt utterly alone. I was never seen as an expectant mother or a mother-to-be, I was just one of several 'birth mothers'."

"For these people, in order to deserve the gift of motherhood, you must either be a married, holierthan-thou Christian or infertile.

"I got so tired of being told "You have nothing to offer this child" that I started to believe I didn't deserve to be a mother."

A month later, Carol was shown profiles of hopeful adopters. Each contained photographs and a "Dear Birthmother" open letter about why they should be chosen.

"Some of them went on about how much they earned and how big their house was," recalls Carol.

"They also tugged at your heartstrings with their stories of infertility."

She eventually chose a couple called Mary and Ethan.

"They seemed so humble and more worthy of a child than I was," she says.

"They attended the last scan with me and they asked if they could be in the delivery room to witness the birth. They were such nice people. I thought I was sure."

After the birth, however, Carol felt completely different.

"They laid my baby on my tummy and the husband cut the cord.

"It was a girl and she was beautiful. I'd never felt so much love in my life. The couple stayed with me, but after they'd gone and we were alone, I held her and fed her and fell in love with her.

"The next day came and I thought I couldn't go through with signing the adoption papers. I curled up with her and I didn't want to let her go."

When Carol told the adoption agency she'd had second thoughts, they telephoned the prospective adoptive parents and asked them to come to the hospital.

She recalls: "They sat beside my bed sobbing and gazing at my daughter. The counsellor from the agency was saying how hard it was to raise a child on your own and that the best thing I could do for her was to go through with the adoption.

"She said I would be homeless and social services would take the baby anyway. The pressure was unbearable."

In the end Carol signed, and handed over her daughter.

"The last sight I had of Elizabeth was her crying and the couple rushing her away from me."

One day, she hopes her daughter will track her down so she can explain how much she still loves her.

Carol adds: "I am not against adoption, but the way it is done here is wrong.

"British couples might look over here at our system and think how easy it all is, but there is an entire industry geared towards getting babies off young mothers.

"They advertise as pregnancy crisis centres, but basically they just want to sell your baby. It's sick and it's wrong."

Next week is National Adoption Week in the UK and when compared with the U.S. system, our oftcriticised adoption system is suddenly thrown into a more favourable light.

It also serves as a timely reminder of the 60,000 older children still languishing in care in England alone.

Last year, just 3,000 vulnerable youngsters were adopted in England - with an average age of four years two months.

Our system may not be perfect and there are those who will continue to complain that adoption in the UK is far too laborious a process.

But most will take heart from the fact that we are still far, far away from the point where we allow our babies to be effectively put up for sale.