By Louella Dalpymple

I, Louella Dalpymple, am an avid learner, so when I became an adoptive mom, I immediately labored to read a wide array of adoption agency websites so I’d be fully armed to endear myself to my children for all eternity. Now that my adoptees are adults, I feel obligated to share “lessons learned” with the rest of you.

While it was a blow to my self-esteem to not contribute my genes to the gene pool, adoption provided me multiple ways to repair the damage from that blow, thanks to my two darling children. When I set out to learn everything necessary to be the best mom ever, I was surprised to discover that there wasn’t much to learn that I didn’t already know. I spent three whole hours (honest!) scrolling the feeds of several adoptive parent influencers to make sure I was up to speed. Adoption is one of those wonderful things that everyone already knows and loves because in adoption, everyone wins. The Republicans and the Democrats love it. The churches and the heathens love it. White people, Black people, Brown people, Yellow people—the whole rainbow of humanity loves adoption! (Maybe not the Red people). What’s not to love? When drug epidemics and earthquakes and wars and one-child policies hit, all the poor babies can make their way to better homes, American homes.

With my children successfully out in the world, living their own lives, I want to share with you eight proven strategies (not yet patented, but I’m working on that) for what adoptees need from their parents. You might want to hang these on your fridge.

1. Share your story—liberally!

Whether or not you were denied your own baby, you went through a lot to get your adoptee. You had to endure prying social workers, expensive lawyers, long waits during which you were powerless (you!), and, most humiliating, that awful part of the process that required you to impress a birth mom. Horrors!

So once you achieve your goal of being a mother, of course you are going to want to share the news with everyone. And not just the main news, but all the details! For example, why your child was put up for adoption, what sordid circumstances the birth mother found herself in, just how much of a loser the good-for-nothing birth father is (pro tip: “sperm donor” is a catchy term), what drugs were in your baby’s system, and later on down your road, any problem behaviors you’ve had to deal with. All these things make you look superior AND like a hero. Sure to earn you points in the court of public opinion. Claim your awesomeness!

Share far and wide: at your church, with the other moms, and especially share all the juicy details online. After all, you deserve to be seen for the wonderful person you are for taking on such—in the words of one of the influencers I follow—”a beautiful mess 🦋🙃🧸.”

Sharing without limits is also a favor to your adoptee. Their future friends, paramours, employers, and everyone else will already know so much about them from a simple google search. In all their relationships, your adoptee can skip the getting-to-know-you stage! At least their side of it.

2. Mold your adoptee to become what you know they can and should be. Resist the urge to see them as they are.

Why is it even a question of nature vs nurture? “Nature” is just a wee spark of DNA. “Nurture,” though, is an ongoing, day-after-day and year-after-year affair. Your part is so much weightier! Besides, everyone knows that babies are blank slates. Get ‘em early enough and you’re all set, I always say. You can mold them into anything you want. You’re a family of macrame enthusiasts? With persistence and dedication (and maybe a little choicelessness in the matter), your adoptee will soon also become a macrame enthusiast.

If you start to see glimmers of personality traits or interests that aren’t to your liking, just prune them with my proven strategies of ignoring or shaming. That should do it.

3. Revel in validation people give you when they notice similarities between you and your adoptee. Sameness is good!

So what if your hair is blond and straight and your adoptee’s is brown and curly. When people tell you that you look alike, play it up! As you should. You endured a lot to bring this person into your life as your accessory, and it’s only right you should enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Your adoptee is fortunate to be seen the same as you. You are awesome, and they are lucky to bask in the glow of your awesomeness. Besides, different is bad and discussion of it should be avoided at any cost. This deserves its own bullet!

4. Try not to see or talk about the differences between you (and your culture) and your adoptee. Differences might make them feel bad.

Be very, very careful not to notice or bring attention to the ways your child is different from you and those around you. For example, if you have a transracial adoptee (which I don’t, full disclosure), focus on helping them fit into our culture rather than focusing on “Black” or “Asian” or “Hispanic” things. It’s best for your adoptee if you don’t see color. When you can achieve that, it means that color doesn’t matter. How wonderful to do your part in easing race relations across the board!

5. Elevate yourself over your child’s dreadful birth family. Thank goodness they ended up with you instead of them.

Not much needs to be said about this, but don’t let your adoptee forget that you provided them an upgrade in life. Remind them often to feel grateful to you for so selflessly providing them a better life. It’s so important for children to learn to express gratitude!

Pat yourself on the back, girlfriend.

6. If Grandpa disses your adoptee, let your adoptee figure it out on their own.

Again, I’m not a transracial parent, but I know a thing or two. You can’t expect everyone in your extended family to keep up the way you have and be “modern” when it comes to all things adoption and race and such. So when Grandpa makes racist comments in front of, or even about your adoptee, don’t rush to defend! When Aunt Mabel chides your adoptee for not showing you the gratitude you deserve for adopting them, just be happy that Auntie has your back. When Cousin Jack leaves your adoptee out of the game because they’re not really part of the family, go with “boys will be boys” and don’t allow your adoptee to get too worked up about it.

All this will toughen up your adoptee. And endear you to them for helping them build character.

7. When it’s necessary to apologize, there is a right way to do so.

It didn’t happen often, but on rare occasion I got it wrong and needed to apologize to my adoptees. It’s important for them to always see you as the authority figure, all-powerful, so you must never go overboard on apologies. It might shatter their image of you.

Rather than saying “I’m sorry I hurt you,” go with, instead, “I’m sorry you were hurt.” They won’t have to grapple with you being less than perfect.

On a related note, I am also a fan of “I statements.” Such as “I feel sad when you bring up your birth mom” and “I feel angry when you tell me I’m not your real mom. I most certainly am!”

8. Remember always that as the parent, you are accountable only to yourself.

Don’t worry at all about your adoptee questioning your stance around birth parents or all things adoption. You are the grown up and you get to decide what’s in their best interest with your superior perspective. No need to worry that any of this will ever come back to you because you will forever be the parent and your adoptee will forever be your child. All little boys and girls remain their mother’s babies throughout their lives, amiright?

I am proof. My children have never questioned me. They are so full of respect for me, it’s humbling.

***

So those are my 8 tips, free for you to use (and put on your fridge). Now that my work is done, so painstakingly molding my children into my heart’s desire, my weekends and holidays are quite open. Feel free to contact me about implementing these strategies with your own adoptees. My very successful kids are so busy that they haven’t had the time to return my calls in the last few years #proudmom. Which means I have time to help you achieve neverending devotion from your adoptee, too. For a free consultation, call 1-800-ADTPN-RX.

Louella Dalpymple is a figment of the imagination of Lori Holden. There is not a single piece of Louella’s advice that Holden agrees with. In fact, Holden cautions readers not to follow any of it and not to call the toll-free number, which is also a figment of her imagination. Holden translates Luella’s adoptive parent-centric advice to more adoptee-centered advice at LavenderLuz.com.

By Dawn Packard

Have your clothes already laid out. Get up early before your family does. Make a cup of strong coffee, but you won’t really need it. You may never be more awake.

A little light makeup. No mascara. Some tissues in your pocket against need. Calculate again the time and distance from your hotel to the restaurant. Run a cloth over the boots you’ll walk in. Stand in front of a full-length mirror and know that this is how she will see you.

Discard any notions of eating. Don’t take anything to take the edge off. Fifty-three years is a long time to wait; you won’t want to miss any of it.

Swallow one last slug of the coffee you don’t need. Kiss your sleeping son and close the door softly as you leave. You will not return as the same person.

Walk to the restaurant and breathe deeply of the sharp winter morning air. Firmly tether your mind to your body. Stay present.

As you walk, gather all the selves you’ve ever been who’ve dreamed about this moment. The child who didn’t understand. The teenager lashing out at not-my-mother. The graduate, the bride, the new mom. You’re all going to breakfast together.

Take a moment to compose yourself before you grasp the handle of the door and pull it open. Run a hand through your hair. Arrange your scarf. Do your best to not look nervous.

Scan the dining room and push away tendrils of panic when you don’t see her. Remind yourself that you would’ve never come if she didn’t seem trustworthy. Believe that she’ll be there and try not to sag with relief when you spot her at a corner table. Maintain your composure.

Walk to the table projecting a confidence you do not feel and watch as she unfolds herself from the booth and rises to embrace you. Clench your jaw and swallow as you hug. She will smell warm and nice, like a baby blanket.  Breathe her in. Calm your galloping heartbeat and savor this moment. You will never have another like it.

Order more coffee and some food you’ll barely touch. Pick at your toast as you will yourself not to stare at the woman who gave birth to you. Try to adjust to seeing your own eyes looking out at you from someone else’s face. It’s a weird feeling. Remind yourself to breathe.

Know that when you hear her voice, it will hit like an electrical current deep in your gut and at the base of your brain. Collect yourself. Organize your shattered thoughts and ask the questions you most need answers to. Understand that this could be your only chance. Hope that it isn’t.

Allow her to reach for the check. Absorb the feeling that she wants to do something for you. Accept her offer of a ride back to your hotel and try not to cry in her car when she hands you a small gift bag. It will contain three oranges, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a handkerchief embroidered by your grandmother. Try harder not to cry.

Smile politely and thank her for breakfast as you slide from the smooth leather seats of her car onto the sidewalk in front of your hotel.  Watch her drive away and wonder what she is feeling. Take a few minutes for yourself in the lobby before you go back to your suite.

Hug your family. Tell them, it went well, I think as you walk into the bedroom and close the door. Put on your softest t-shirt. Step out onto the balcony, you’ll need the cool air.  Peel an orange as you gaze at the snow-covered city. You’ve just met your mother.

Now, you can cry.

Dawn Packard is a 55-year old domestic Baby Scoop Era relinquishee and adoptee living in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She was adopted at two weeks old in a closed adoption. 

Author photo by Jackie Flynn Batista. 

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Venmo: @Dawn-Packard-1