The outcome of the Baby Ann ruling will result in a lot of trauma and pain for the "ve people involved.The Sunday Tribune asked adoption experts how it all went so wrong
IT'S A mess. Two-year-old baby Ann has been given away once, and now it's going to happen again. No one knows for sure how badly this will affect her. Everyone agrees that it's a tremendous psychological shock for one small person.
Her adoptive parents, meanwhile, are facing into a Christmas without their child.
Her natural parents are bracing themselves for a daughter who thinks they're strangers.
For all five people, pain is inevitable. And the case has exposed some serious flaws in our archaic adoption processes. The Sunday Tribune asked adoption experts how it all went so wrong.
According to the Natural Parents Network of Ireland (NPNI), baby Ann's case has highlighted two major problems in the adoption system: inadequate counselling and lack of legislation.
"It is our strong feeling that social workers do not say to women: 'This decision will affect you for life, and it will cause a pain that never goes away', " said NPNI chairperson Bernie Harold. "Social workers have told us that they give non-directional counselling, but we regularly get calls to our helpline from women who say that they were not told about their options to keep their child, but were always pushed towards giving the child away. We think independent counselling should be a must."
Harold also questioned the 'open adoption' agreement that had been drawn up with Ann's prospective adoptive parents, and whether this "promised contact with their daughter was thwarted or refused."
She said that the NPNI regularly dealt with parents whose contact with their children had been totally cut off, despite open adoption agreements.
"There is no law to protect natural parents in this area, " she said. "There is no standardisation at all in open adoptions across the country.
Depending on what area you're living in and what social worker you have, your contact with your child could vary from a photograph once a year to regular physical contact."
A social worker with the Adoption Board, Grainne O'Malley, agreed that these discrepancies do occur. "It does happen, " she said.
"There are different services around the country. Each agency works autonomously, and each has their own traditions."
O'Malley said that while the Adoption Board supported legislation in the area, legislation wouldn't necessarily prevent cases such as that of baby Ann. "It's just not always the answer, " she said.
"You can never have something totally binding when it comes to human relationships.
Circumstances will always change. People will change. A law will only do so much."
O'Malley also wholly rejected the suggestion that birth mothers received inadequate counselling before giving away their child. "People are given a lot of counselling and a lot of time when making their decision, " she said. "More so now than ever."
According to the Adoptive Parents Association (APAI), the case of baby Ann clearly exposed a "legislative loophole" regarding final consent to adoption.
"There should be only one consent form for birth parents to sign, " said Helen Gilmartin, secretary of APAI.
"Then there should be a set time period in which they can change their minds. After that, the consent should become irrevocable. That would concentrate minds, and prevent situations such as this from happening."
However, all legislation aside, according to psychotherapist Michael Candon . . . who is adopted himself, and provides therapy for people with adoption issues . . . the best way forward is to remove the secrecy.
"I think it is a birth right for any child to be with their parents and we should do everything in our power to ensure that right, " he said.
"Ultimately, it's a primal wound. Every mother who comes into a therapy room regrets it. It tears people apart. It is always painful, in some way."
'I only allow myself to feel the pain once a year'
THE MOTHER WHO NEVER WANTED TO GIVE HER BABY UP FOR ADOPTION
MIA Parsons never wanted to give her baby away. She was 17. Her pregnancy was unplanned. But when everything else in her life was unsure, she knew one thing: she wanted to keep her son.
"I was so naive, " Mia told the Sunday Tribune. "I thought I could keep him, at first. But my parents felt it was best for me to have the baby adopted. It was a different time."
After giving birth, Mia spent five days with her son in hospital. She called him Paul, and she loved him immediately. While he was waiting for his adoption placement, Paul was put in a foster home, and Mia visited him there.
"It was great, until he started to smile, " she said. "He started to grow a little personality. And then it just became so painful that I knew I had to detach myself." Mia said goodbye to her son, comforting herself with the arrangement that she would get a picture of him at his christening and other special occasions as he grew up.
"I never got that picture, or any word at all, " she said. "I lasted for 13 years, and then I found myself constantly wondering if he was dead."
In the dark, and panicked, Mia contacted her adoption agency and asked them for reassurance that her son was still alive. She also asked if it would be possible to get a photograph of him. "I got a call to come into the office, and I was so excited, " she said.
But Mia was bluntly told that she would not get a picture or any other information from her child's life. She was told not to try to contact him again until he was 23.
"I actually spent the next 10 years waiting, " she said. "The day finally arrived, two years ago, and I asked the agency to let Paul know that I wanted to make contact. They said they would contact his parents, who would then decide whether to let Paul know."
For months, Mia heard no news.
Finally, she rang the office again. "The woman was so awful and so casual.
She didn't even seem to have notes.
She just said 'Oh yes, he's very stylish, ' and that was basically it. I don't even know if the message ever got to Paul, " she said.
Desperate now to let Paul know that she wants to make contact with him, Mia has composed a song about her son, and plans to send it to every radio station in the country. She contacted RTE's Liveline last Monday, as part of this plan, and also because she was so disturbed by the outcome of the baby Ann case.
"I think the court decision was totally wrong, " she said. "Once you've made the decision to place your child for adoption, you can't go back. I think the birth mother just couldn't detach herself, emotionally. Open adoption is not for everyone. I couldn't have done it if I hadn't detached myself. Even now, 25 years later, I only allow myself to feel the pain once a year. And even now it's unbearable."
'I don't feel guiltyf I have the right to know a little bit about myself '
THE ADOPTED CHILD
FITNESS instructor Pat Henry doesn't look at himself in the mirror any more. When he combs his hair, he stares at the top of his head. He doesn't want to see his face, because he bears such a startling resemblance to his birth mother. And she has told him she wants nothing to do with him.
Henry was 55 years old when he discovered, accidentally, that both he and his brother had been adopted. His parents had died without telling him. It was his aunt who let it slip.
"I was never legally adopted, and I suppose my parents were always afraid of anyone coming to take me back, " said Henry. "They used to tell me I was 'born in Ringsend' because my mother never made it to the hospital. In reality, my mother gave birth to me in Holles Street, kept me for five months, and then put an ad in the paper saying 'Baby for Adoption'. My adoptive parents showed up, and she liked the look of them and that was it. No paperwork, nothing.
According to my birth cert, 'Pat Henry' doesn't exist."
With considerable determination, Henry tracked down his birth mother. When she heard who he was, she said she didn't want to be in contact with him. Unwilling to let it go, Henry said that he would come knocking at her door if she didn't meet him.
"I don't feel guilty about that, " he said. "I think I have the right to know a little bit about myself. Even if it's just my medical history."
The meeting was arranged for Abbey St in Dublin. Through the city crowds, Henry identified his mother immediately because of their strong family resemblance. "I was hoping for a hug, or a smile, or some indication that she was pleased to see me, " he said. "But there was none of that. She didn't ask any questions about my life, she just didn't want to know. She told me that my father was a turf cutter from Mayo and that she didn't know his name. I don't believe that."
The meeting ended with a promise that they would see each other again at Henry's son's graduation. But she never turned up. "I contacted her again, after that. And she said that she didn't want me when I was a baby, and she didn't want me now, " said Henry. "It was incredibly hurtful.
The feeling of rejection is strongest. Total rejection. I just want a conclusion, I suppose, so I can look at myself in the mirror again and move on."
Mary from Dublin . . . who did not wish to be identified . . . was fighting to get away from her birth mother instead of fighting to see her. Mary, who contacted RTE's Liveline last week, was taken into care by her adoptive mother in 1945, before legal adoption existed in Ireland.
When she was 10 years old, and adoption laws were drawn up, Mary's birth mother began having second thoughts about losing her daughter.
"I was brought into this room in Abbey Street to meet her, and I just remember being so terrified, " said Mary. "I was sure these people were going to run away with me and I'd never see my mother again."
Finally, Mary's birth mother gave consent to the adoption, and Mary remains extremely grateful for this. "I had the most wonderful life with a mother who wanted me and loved me completely, " she said. "I feel very sad for baby Ann. I think that little girl is going to be looking for her mother and father, and she's going to find strangers instead."
'There was a certain degree of openness that worked'
THE ADOPTIVE PARENT
IN THE Gilmartin family, where all four children are adopted, there has always been huge openness about adoption.
"Two of my children have been reunited with their birth parents, and I am totally fine with that, " said Helen Gilmartin, who is secretary of the Adoptive Parents Association of Ireland. "I believe that it is totally their right to have contact with their parents, if they want it. I have no problem whatsoever with the concept of reunification, and I really do believe that I would be typical of most adoptive parents."
While she did agree with certain degrees of 'open adoption', Gilmartin said it was not always going to work in every situation. "With one of our children, we would always send pictures of special occasions and letters about how the child was getting on in life, " she said. "That was a certain degree of openness that worked in that situation. However, I certainly don't think that full open adoption is always going to be the solution, and I certainly don't think it's the panacea that some people are making it out to be."
Gilmartin said that having two sets of parents could, in fact, be extremely problematic for a child. "You are relying on both sets of parents working together and agreeing on every decision, " she said. "What happens when the child hits puberty and wants to do things that some of the parents agree with but the others believe are unsafe? It can be corrupting, and that type of distorted parenting can have a very negative effect on the child."
ADOPTION BY NUMBERS
Since 1952, there have been 42,000 adoptions in Ireland
In the 1960s, '70s, and '80s, there were at least 1,000 adoptions every year.
The highest number of adoptions happened in 1967, when 1,497 adoptions took place.
In 2001, there were 81 'unrelated' adoptions in Ireland.
In 2004, this figure had dropped to 46.
Colman Noctor Child psychotherapist
'Baby Ann will be well aware of the changes going on in her life'
"BABY Ann would have had a pattern established with her adoptive parents. When she is handed over, that pattern will change, and that will cause a considerable amount of disruption in her life.
"It is quite probable that she will develop an attachment disorder, but it might not manifest itself for several years.
There is no way, really, of predicting to what extent she will be affected. For some children, this would have huge impacts on their personality, their future relationships, the regulation of their emotions. Other children are much more robust. It really depends on her attachment processes so far, and how capable she is of coping with serious changes in patterns.
"However, one thing that can't be copied is attunement. That is the sense that exists between a child and its primary care giver.
Children are hyper-sensitive and extremely absorbent, so baby Ann will be very aware of the changes going on in her life."
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