Aspie with Attitude

Sure, I'm just another Southern Recovering Alcoholic NPR- and Sweet-Tea Addicted Comic Mom with Asperger's in the SFV, but I can tell you now that I don't necessarily fit the stereotype.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

When A Child Is Like A Car

In the very strange and money-grubbing world of adoption, the "best interests of the child" are so very often considered, if you listen to adoption lawyers and others who make their living through the separation of families. In this extremely sad story, the adopters retained possession, eventually, of a beautiful little girl and the real parents are left with only pictures. Of course, there's a well-paid adoption attorney waiting in the proverbial wings with comments:

“There are no winners in a contested adoption case,” said Richard Lifshitz, who represented the adoptive parents. “These cases are never easy because there is a child involved. A child is not a car that’s being repossessed; it’s a thriving, living, breathing little person. The child is what’s most important, and I know that’s what’s most important to my clients.”

Au contraire, Mr. Lifshitz, whose last name contains four letters that are entirely appropriate for what he does for a living. There is at least one winner: the adoption lawyer. A child is like a car in adoption cases. Or, as I've always heard: Possession is nine-tenths of the law. In this case, the mother went to a family separation agency, euphemistically called "A Baby to Love" in Illinois. Although the article does not go into detail about what the social wreckers there told the young woman, while salivating for her unborn child, they probably advised her to say that she was raped and that she didn't know who the father was. Remember who is in charge when a vulnerable mom goes to a family separation agency: the people who make the money off her baby. In this case, the mom gave away her rights to keep the baby (she will always be the child's only mother, of course), less than the Illinois-required 72-hour waiting period. However, the adopters live in South Carolina, where the 72-hour waiting period is not required. The mom signed the documents at 70.5 hours after giving birth. For those of who who believe that even 72 hours is enough to make the monumental decision to give up the right to raise your child, try giving birth. I'd say that six months or a year would be the proper allotted time. Ah, but then there would be no harvest of newborns and the adoption industry, a $1.6 billion business, would lose a tremendous amount of money.

This particular mom gave her newborn daughter to adopters and the adopters took their potential adoptee to South Carolina four days after the child's birth. The dad then found out about the daughter, as did the newborn's maternal grandparents. At eight months, the daughter was given back to her rightful family, with the supposedly wonderful adopters showing up at the real family's door, demanding the child. I know that I'm glad I don't live beside the adopters in their tony South Carolina neighborhood. What people indeed! They can always find another child; the mother can never replace her daughter.

Ah, but the adopters, with the help of the South Carolina Supreme Court repossessed their car, um adoptee, and now, with a grieving mother, father, and extended family in the background, they happily took their new little possession back to South Carolina. Can you imagine the stories that the adopters will tell regarding their new possession? "You won't believe what we had to go through!" "The mother wanted to take her back!" and such will be the playground talk that the adopters will tell anyone who'll listen. Once again, I'm thankful not to be their neighbor.