One of the criticisms I’ve heard within the adoptive parent portion of the triad, is that open adoptions are “confusing” to the child somehow. For example:

* Having two mommies and/or two daddies
* Along with the above, which is the “real” parent?
* Birth parents will want to “co-parent” and thus “diminish” the authority of the adoptive parent

We have an open adoption. We routinely send pictures to our children’s birth family. We talk to them on the phone. We mark special occasions with cards, presents, and/or calls. We send frequent e-mails.

One such case was today. Yesterday, I shared that I received a lovely e-mail from the kids’ aunt with a link to her online photo album. The kids got to view the pictures today. I pointed out “Momma ____” in the pictures and my youngest gleefully said, “Momma ____! That’s my Mommy!” And guess what I said? “Yes, that is your Momma!”

Fact.

She is their biological mother. Both of my children were conceived in her womb, nurtured there lovingly for nine months, and cared for after complicated deliveries that she bore the pain of. I cannot, nor will I, take that from her. It is a fact.

Prior to viewing the pictures this morning, both of my children called me Mama. While viewing the pictures they called me Mama. All afternoon they called me Mama. They were not one whit confused. Why? Because there is nothing confusing about fact.

I’ve blogged about growing up bi-racial in the 70’s and having to “choose” which race I was on official forms with check boxes. I hated it because I am both races equally. Fact. Both races make up the unique person that I am. Fact. I cannot be “me” without both, equally. Fact. So it is with my children and their two families, both birth and adoptive.

My oldest was not quite three when he developed autoimmune Type 1 diabetes mellitus. He does not remember a time when he did not have the condition. It has never been presented to him as something “bad” (subjective label), or something to fear. He does know it is a health condition. He does know he needs to do a few things that his friends do not. It has never been presented to him in any other way than, “Hey, this is what is normal for our family.” Just as some of his friends go to church, some don’t. Some of his friends are traditionally schooled, some are homeschooled as he is. Some children were born into the families they currently live in, some were adopted. Some families speak only one language, some speak two or more (and in those households the kids fluidly move from one language to the other without difficulty provided they consistently have opportunities to speak both – do you see where I am going with this?).

It’s all in how you present it.

In our family, it’s utterly normal to have a Momma who had you in her tummy and a Mama that you live with every day.

It’s all in how you present it.

Though we have nothing on paper “legislating” that we have an open adoption, for our family we feel it is the moral, ethical and emotionally healthy thing for us to do. Are the kids in contact with all of their birth family? No. And there are really compelling reasons why. However, when there are no barriers in terms of safety or other legitimate reasons, an open adoption is a healthy thing.

I can’t speak for every adoptive family in an open adoption. I can only speak to my experience. I know there can be extenuating circumstances and generally write with those caveats in mind. In our case, having an open adoption has not presented any confusion for the kids, and has been a very healthy situation for them.

People think I’m a crazy person because I’m not concerned about the kids calling their birth mother, Momma. People also think I’m a little cuckoo for having an open adoption; for having adopted two at the same time; for a lot of things. But, I’ll tell you this: there is one very happy, very grateful first family that completely appreciate my “craziness” and never cease to tell me how much they love us because they have regained a part of their family they thought was lost to them when their children entered foster care. That alone makes it worth it; but even sweeter is the thought that one day, when my kids are a lot older, they, too, will appreciate my kind of “crazy.”

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