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Articles / Long Lost Family: Adopted woman who spent 40 years searching for her ....
« Last post by RDsmum on August 09, 2024, 11:41:56 AM »
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-13719265/Long-Lost-Family-Adopted-woman-spent-40-years-searching-biological-sister-having-childhood-shrouded-loneliness-reveals-joy-finally-meeting-sibling.html

Long Lost Family: Adopted woman who spent 40 years searching for her biological sister after having a childhood shrouded by loneliness reveals her joy after finally meeting her sibling

    Liz Allward, 60, from North Somerset, was adopted as a young baby
    SPOILERS AHEAD
    READ MORE: Long Lost Family viewers are left 'broken' and 'sobbing their hearts out' as woman, 71, reunites with her son 55 years after she was forced to give him up for adoption by her ashamed mother

By Alanah Khosla For Mailonline

Published: 15:22, 8 August 2024 | Updated: 17:03, 8 August 2024

A woman who spent nearly 40 years longing to find her biological sister has revealed her joy at finally meeting her, adding that it still feels 'surreal'.  Part-time hairdresser and counsellor Liz Allward, 60, from North Somerset, was adopted as a baby and always had a strong 'intuition' that she had a birth sibling, despite never being told so.  Though Liz had a happy childhood, she always felt a sense of 'loneliness', exacerbated by her adoptive family moving around a lot, making it difficult for Liz to maintain friendships.  It was on her wedding day in 1996 at the age of 23 that her adoptive mother informed her that she had an older biological sister, but with few other details, Liz was unable to locate her.  After years of failed attempts to locate her biological sister, Liz contacted ITV's Long Lost Family on a whim, unexpectedly leading her to the information she had longed to know for years and, most importantly, her biological sister, Deborah.  Talking to FEMAIL, Liz recalled: 'When I was younger I didn't know if it was a brother or a sister; I just knew something was missing.  I was adopted in Leeds at a very young age, and then we moved quickly down to Surrey, then we moved to Bristol.  I had a lovely family and a lovely mother and father, I can't fault them, [they were] very traditional and very honest.'

She added: 'I had a nice life, I was bit lonely during childhood, the moves were difficult for me.'

It wasn't until Liz's wedding day at the age of 23 that her adoptive mother confirmed the intuition she had always had.  Liz recalled: 'When I got married, I asked my mother, I said: '"Am I one of a twin?" She hesitated and told me that there was a daughter born to my birth mother a couple of years before [me]'.

Her instinct was confirmed, but Liz knew nothing more about her biological sister other than her existence.  'I got and married life went on I tried for a quite a few years [to find Deborah], always with the support of friends,' she said.

The mother-of-two sought information online and applied for her adoption papers from North Somerset Council.  It was in the document that Liz discovered the name of her birth sister. She said: 'There was one line that read "Deborah", it was just overwhelming, it was frightening as well'.

When Liz turned 60, she decided enough time had gone by without knowing her biological sister, and with encouragement from her daughter, she sent an application to ITV's Long Lost Family.  'I think after turning 60, I thought: "I've got to do something", my daughter told me to go on Long Lost Family, I thought I'd never get on, but I did'.

'Within two weeks someone replied with the process it was brilliant,' the mother-of-two recalled.

The Long Lost Family team located Deborah, now known as Debbie, and discovered that, unlike Liz, Debbie was adopted within the family by her maternal aunt and that although she knew her birth mother as a child, she had long since lost contact.  Debbie said: 'I was adopted into the family, so I knew a lot of the relatives. Growing up, we didn't have a lot, but we never went without.  We'd had a holiday to the seaside every year and at Christmas, it might have been second-hand things that we got, but we didn't mind, we appreciated everything we got'.

Unlike Liz, Debbie discovered she had a birth sister at the age of eight, explaining: 'I thought about her quite a lot over the years I had never forgotten."

She explained that while she would have loved to find her biological sister, she 'wouldn't know where to start'.  In October last year, she was surprised to come home to a letter from Long Lost Family. 'Everything was going through my head', she recalled.

'It took me all day and I rang the number on it, and that's when I found out that it was real, and I was thrilled to bits'.  There were a few similarities in life along the way, but I think we're both quite sensitive underneath but feisty in other ways.' She added: 'I think we're very similar in lots of ways'.

The mother-of-two continued: 'It filled that hole, and it made me feel complete really, I had this urge to do it at 60, and I acted on it, and it was brilliant, and it's just been a bit of a whirlwind since then it still feels a bit surreal.'

Debbie added: 'It was brilliant, I felt like I had known her all my life'.

The pair are now enjoying getting to know each other and making up for lost time, with the pair chatting weekly on the telephone.  Liz and Debbie are planning on getting to know each other face to face in October, when Liz is planning a visit to Debbie's Yorkshire home.
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https://www.judiciary.uk/speech-by-the-president-of-the-family-division-adapting-adoption-to-the-modern-world-part-two/

Speech by the President of the Family Division: Adapting Adoption to the Modern World, Part Two

POTATO Conference

Adapting Adoption to the Modern World: Part Two
Friday 17 May 2024

President of the Family Division

The Right Honourable Sir Andrew McFarlane

It is both a pleasure and an honour to be invited to give a keynote address to the POTATO Group Conference 2024. As this lecture will be published I should explain that POTATO stands for ‘Parents of Traumatised Adopted Teens Organisation’. It is a group of parents who have adopted children from the care system in England and Wales over the past 20 years or so and have experienced challenges, often very significant challenges, during their children’s teen years as a result of the effects of previous trauma being played out.

Dr Pangloss would no doubt regard adoption from the care system as providing a child with ‘all that is best’ in ‘this best of all possible worlds’, with a child moving on to some sunny adoptive upland and living happily ever after in their forever family. In such a world, the POTATO Group would not exist as there would be no need for it. But, sadly, in the real world POTATO does exist as its services are very much needed by a significant number of adoptive parents whose child, despite all of the love, care and worry that they have devoted to them, has gone off the rails in one way or another during adolescence. POTATO Facebook group has 640 members. There are 150 attending this conference today and 125 tomorrow. As these figures suggest, the need for POTATO’s services and support is a real one.

The situations facing POTATO parents will, of course, vary from family to family, but, at the extreme, but by no means rare, end of the spectrum, the adoption will have broken down and the young person may have returned into local authority care, or ‘walked with their feet’ and returned to their natural family.

It is beyond both the scope of this address, and my role as a judge, to offer any analysis to explain why some adoptions fail in this way, despite the great care taken in selection, training and placement, that is the hallmark of adoption work in the UK. What I can do is to focus on just one element of the adoption equation. It is an element that is, at least to a degree, in the control of the Family Court, and it is, in my view, one that could be used to a far greater extent to support adopters and their children in the post-adoption years than is currently the case.

That element is, of course, contact with the child’s natural family. Rather than a degree of real contact unsettling an adopted child, research (as I will explain) suggests that it might have the opposite effect and be beneficial to the overall sense of stability and wellbeing for the child as they move through the choppy adolescent waters.

In addressing this topic I am returning to themes that I began to develop in the Mayflower Lecture, that I delivered to the Plymouth Law Society in October 2023[1]. That lecture was entitled ‘Adapting Adoption to the Modern World’ and I see this POTATO address as being ‘Part Two’ by giving greater focus to the issue of contact after adoption and offering some thoughts on how the court might alter its practice and approach to better meet the needs of adopted children in this regard.

In the Mayflower Lecture I offered an overview of the model of ‘forced adoption’ that had existed, and had continued until the 1970’s, under which the children of single, unmarried, mothers were ‘relinquished’ for adoption, often as a result of irresistible pressure from professionals. I went on to suggest that, whilst the model of forced adoption may have gone, it had left a legacy in the approach that professionals, and the courts, had taken to the issue of post-adoption contact in the decades following the 1970’s.

I said:

Until the 1970s adoption largely involved the relinquishing of young babies by a parent or parents with no expectation of any future contact. Children placed under this arrangement were usually very young and had no attachment or memory of their birth family. The stigma attached to illegitimacy and infertility meant that the decision not to promote contact was considered to be a protective factor for the adopter, the adopted child and the birth family. There was thus little call for post-adoption contact.

I identified the issue of post-adoption contact as being the element that needed to be developed in order to adapt adoption more suitably to the modern age.

In order to get our collective eyes focussed in on the legal structure, I will repeat the description of it that I offered in Plymouth:

Once a placement for adoption order has been made, all previous orders or arrangements for a child and his or her natural family to have contact with each other come to an end. When making a placement order, the court has the power to make a further order under ACA 2002, s 26 requiring the person with whom the child lives, or is to live, to allow him to visit or stay with the person named in the order, or for them otherwise to have contact with each other. Unless such an order has been made, there is no legal requirement for the local authority to arrange any contact with the child’s natural family.

… The normal arrangement, after a short interim period in which existing contact arrangements are run down and cease with a ‘farewell’ visit, is for a minimal link to be established via what is called ‘letterbox contact’. The details will vary from case to case, but normally involve each side of the divide, namely the adopters and the natural parents, communicating with each other by a short letter or report once each year. These communications might, or might not, contain photographs and would give a brief update.

The report in 2013 of a House of Lords Committee on Adoption Legislation quoted[2] from two authoritative sources on the relevance and importance of contact post-adoption for the children who were now being adopted in saying that

‘It was important to remember that contact should be for the benefit of the child, not for the parents or other relatives. The reasons why a child might benefit from contact were spelled out in evidence from After Adoption: “it is not about maintenance of the relationships as they were with the birth family . . . what [children] like is to have some continuity that enables them to integrate the past with the present, and obviously then the future. I think contact can play a very useful role for the child in helping them understand their world and their life history.”

Helen Oakwater described the role that facilitated contact could play in assisting a child to “integrate their past, allowing them to form a coherent narrative and more robust sense of self.”’

In terms of the ‘modern world’, as the context in which post-adoption contact is to be seen, I described the explosion of digital communication in the past two decades and the possibility of an adopted child, quietly, alone in their bedroom, without the knowledge of their adopted parents, tracing and finding their family. I said:

‘The temptation to do so, and then to make contact with [the birth family], must be almost irresistible. But the dangers of doing so, and the potential for significant emotional harm to result, are easy to contemplate. Unlike the babies taken at birth of yesteryear, today’s adoptees have normally been removed from their family because they have experienced, or were likely to experience, significant harm there; harm of a nature and degree that justified permanent life-long placement as part of another family.’

Members of the POTATO Group do not need me to spell this out; it will be their own personal, painful, experience.

Finally, in terms of summarising what I said ‘previously’ (as they say on TV) in ‘part one’, I referred to a report by the President’s Public Law Working Group, Adoption Sub-Group with Mrs Justice Frances Judd as its chair. The report, which was published for consultation in September 2023 (with the final report due later this year), noted how adoption had adapted and changed down the years, but was clear that it needed to continue to do so saying:

‘First and foremost, we recommend that there needs to be a greater focus on the issue of contact with the birth family as long as it is safe and for adopted adults to have more straightforward access to their records.‘

In terms of contact, the report went on to say:

‘Whilst there has been a great deal of research in recent years as to the potential advantages to adopted children of maintaining some sort of face-to-face contact with the birth family, it remains unusual for the care plan for children who are going to be placed for adoption to propose more than indirect or letterbox contact. The House of Lords Children and Families Act 2014 Committee, which reported in December 2022[3], concluded that the current system of letterbox contact was outdated and warned that the failure to modernise contact threatened to undermine the adoption system.’

The group suggested a change in social work practice and training for all involved in the process (including prospective adopters) to give more focus to contact and the benefits that it can bring for many (although not all) adopted children. They said:

‘Our main recommendation is that there should be a tailormade approach to the issue of contact for each adopted child which includes and promotes face-to-face contact with important individuals in that child’s life if it can be safely achieved. The issue of contact needs to be actively considered throughout the child’s minority, not only before the adoption order is made. The other recommendations are intended to support this overarching aim.’

The PLWG report goes on to quote from the December 2022 House of Lords report:

“Contact, where safe, appropriate and properly managed, can be valuable for an adoptive child, their new family and their birth family, including siblings and other relatives. However, contact orders and support can vary, and the current system of letterbox contact is outdated. The failure to modernise contact threatens to undermine the adoption system.”

Since speaking in Plymouth last October, I have had the benefit of reading further research on adoption and, in particular, contact. What follows is neither the result of a methodical trawl of all sources nor an authoritative summary of all the available research; to a degree that more in-depth exercise has been conducted by the House of Lords Committee and the PLWG Adoption Group. The overall direction of travel of the research is already recorded. My intention here is to provide examples of the detail that underlies the broad conclusion that a different approach to contact is now required.

One very recent article is of particular note. It is ‘How do adopted adults see the significance of adoption and being a parent in their life stories? A narrative analysis of 40 life story interviews with male and female adoptees’ by Professor Beth Neil, Julia Rimmer and Irina Sirbu[4]. As the title suggests, the researchers interviewed 40 (now adult) adoptees who had gone on to become parents themselves. It is a fascinating read. The researchers categorise the individuals’ narratives into four broad typologies:

          ‘Continuously stable’: largely happy childhood.

          ‘Pulling through’: those with a redemptive arc, having overcome significant adversity.

          ‘Still struggling’: those with a predominantly pessimistic tone with adoption largely seen negatively with ongoing feelings of loss.

          ‘Robbed of parenthood’: past and ongoing difficulties resulting in the unfair loss of their parenting role.

In words that I am confident that POTATO would endorse, the article recommends intervening early to help adoptees cope with the impact of adverse experiences:

‘The high levels of difficulties that many adopted adults in our study experienced, and which potentially threatened their parenting, point to the importance of trauma-informed support for adoptive families particularly early interventions (ie during childhood, preventing escalation in adolescence or adulthood) and help specifically at the parenting stage.’

Under the heading ‘promoting openness in adoption’ the report states:

‘Adoptive parents being “communicatively open” and supporting birth family contact where appropriate was valued by adopted people across all four narrative types. Openness, particularly with adoptive parents, seemed vital in strengthening adoptee’s trust in their adoptive parents and building an adoption narrative, and promoting both these types of openness needs to be a priority when placing children and preparing, assessing and supporting adoptive parents. The need for post-adoption support in making sense of and managing birth family relationships extends into adulthood and may be particularly needed at the parenting life stage where birth family relationships often come under review.’ [emphasis added]

In a chapter written by Beth Neil and Mary Beek for the ‘Routledge Handbook of Adoption’ (1st edition 2020), the writers record that plans for contact in most adoptions are limited to letterbox contact, although (relying on 2018 research by Beth Neil) ‘more than half of these arrangements are not sustained’. Any face to face visits are likely to be with siblings or grandparents, rather than birth parents. They report that the picture in England and Wales has been ‘static’ over the past 20 years. This is in contrast to New South Wales, Australia, where the default position in law is for there to be ongoing contact with birth parents.

Neil and Beek write:

‘Where children are able to stay in touch with birth parents, meetings can elicit a range of positive and negative feelings, allowing adoptive parents and (sometimes) birth parents the chance to understand and manage their child’s adoption-related emotion (Neil, Beek, and Ward, 2015). Adoptive parents have reported the ways they felt maintaining a relationship had been helpful to their child (Neil, Cossar, Jones, Lorgelly, and Young, 2011). Some parents felt their child would not have been able to commit to adoption without this: “[it] would be ripping her away from the family she loved … and she would never allow herself to love us if that was the case.” Others felt that contact helped children feel less worried about family members: “She needed the reassurance that her mum was okay,” or that maintaining relationships gave their child important lessons for adult life: “[it’s] better for his relationships when he grows up. If he sees it is not losing all the time, then it is good for him” (Neil, Cossar, Jones, Lorgelly, and Young, 2011, p. 160).’

And

‘Where adopted children have had positive relationships with parents, grandparents, or siblings before adoption, feelings of sadness, loss, and anxiety can be strong when relationships are cut off. Children generally find staying in touch with siblings or grandparents less emotionally complex than contact with parents, and contact with these birth family members is often lasting and rewarding (Neil, Beek, and Ward, 2015; Neil, Cossar, Jones, Lorgelly, and Young, 2011).’

A 2019 article, signed by a dozen international experts, led by Jesus Palacios. entitled ‘Adoption in the Service of Child Protection: An International Interdisciplinary Perspective’[5] looked at the place of adoption in the child protection system. Whilst adoption is taken up to significantly varying degrees in different countries, a common trend has been away from relinquished babies given up by unmarried mothers (following developments 50 years ago in contraception and abortion) towards greater emphasis on family preservation and reunification. There has been a corresponding drop internationally in the number of adopted children. One particular trend that has been observed is

‘the development of open adoption (with some form of contact between the child and members of the birth family) in an increasing number of countries. As an example, the increase in domestic adoption numbers in Australia is accounted for by one State (New South Wales) where adoption is only available if open, thus facilitating the adoption of children in long-term foster care by their existing foster carers (del Pozo de Bolger, Dunstan, Kaltner, 2017).’

The writers stress the fundamental importance of achieving permanence and stability for an adopted child. They then go on to say:

‘It is also important to emphasize that children and young people can retain varying degrees of relational permanence to people they have lived with previously, including their parents, extended family, siblings, former foster parents, and foster siblings (Cushing, Samuels, & Kerman, 2014). Child welfare policy and practices have not sufficiently recognized the importance of maintaining established, psychologically permanent relationships when children are placed into care, or move from one care placement to the next, or exit care to guardianship or adoption (Stott & Gustavsson, 2010). This is especially critical for children who enter care at older ages with very established family relationships, as well as for children who are moved from foster parents to adoption by another family.’

This audience will not be surprised, but will, I hope, be reassured, that the article is clear in recording the adverse impact on adoptees socio-emotional and mental well-being of early adverse experiences.

In those cases where the adoption was open, and the contact had worked well, satisfaction with the contact, rather than any one or other model of contact, predicted less ‘externalising’ behaviour during adolescence and beyond.

Finally, this eminent group of international experts recognised that some adoptions break down and understood that not all breakdowns will be recorded, in the same way that few near breakdowns will also be below the radar. The causes of breakdown are recognised as many and complex, but greater pre-adoption adversity and an older age at adoption are plainly two. The group concluded, importantly for the purposes of this address:

‘Taken together, these diverse outcomes demonstrate that adoption needs to be thought of as a lifelong experience, both in terms of benefits and potential difficulties. Three findings stand out: adoption introduces a major positive change in [an] adopted persons’ life trajectory. However, there is convincing evidence that preadoption adversity (abuse and neglect, malnutrition, multiple separations) may have substantial short and long-term negative consequences for adopted children’s development. Furthermore, the adopted population is quite heterogeneous, and mediating and moderating effects play important roles in predicting adult outcomes.’

In this regard they stress the importance of sharing detailed and accurate information about the child and their past experiences with the adopters, and as appropriate with the child through life story work, and they expressly endorse the role that contact may play:

‘Evidence suggests that, when in a child’s best interests, contact with birth relatives and with previous caregivers can be helpful; agencies need to develop plans to facilitate and support this contact. The concept of adoption has moved from being thought of as ‘closed and secret’ to one that recognizes the need for greater openness and transparency and acknowledges the child’s history.’

I have taken time to quote at some length from this paper because of the eminence and number of its authors, and because of the international experience and research upon which it is based. It demonstrates, to my mind, a detailed understanding, not only of the profound challenges that previously abused children will face even in the most loving and stable adoptive home, but also of the ‘mediating and moderating’ steps that can be taken to reduce the impact of those challenges for the child – and the article clearly identifies the potential role for ongoing contact as one of these mediating and moderating interventions.

In 2016-2017 Beth Neil and her team at UEA undertook research[6] into the views and experiences of adoptive parents, over 300 of whom had filled in an online survey for the researchers. Around 80% felt that their adoption was going ‘really well’ or that they were ‘managing’. 17% were struggling to manage and 3% had broken down or were likely to do so.

So far as contact is concerned, most had had some form of contact but where this was letterbox contact the responses were either mixed or negative as to its value. 25% of those children with siblings living elsewhere had some face to face contact with them, which was largely seen as positive, whereas a striking 59% of those with absent siblings had no contact with them at all.

Adoptive parents differed considerably according to how important they felt birth relative contact was for their child, with just under half (45%) of parents feeling it was very important.

The report’s recommendation about contact is:

‘Birth family contact. Contact emerges as an often unsatisfactory experience for a range of reasons, and a more proactive approach to establishing rewarding and sustained contact plans should be considered.  Adoptive parents and the wider birth family (including carers of siblings) may need help understanding the value of contact for adopted children.  Contact ideally needs to be reviewed periodically.  There could be more consideration of other adult birth relatives – not just parents – being involved.’

In addition to the sources from which I have quoted, the 2021 Nuffield Family Justice Observatory report ‘Modernising post-adoption contact: findings from a recent consultation’[7] is of note in stressing the importance of contact and suggesting ways in which the letterbox model might be improved by the use of digital options.

I hope that the references that I have made in this address and in the earlier Mayflower Lecture demonstrate a consistent authoritative message that a new approach to post-adoption contact is now needed. In that regard it is clear that progress is being made. One of the four strategic priorities for Adoption England is that of ‘Maintaining relationships’; this priority is focused on modernising contact for adopted people so that they can maintain relationships with the people who were important to them before they were adopted[8]. The team at UEA, led by Beth Neil, have been commissioned by Adoption England to develop a theory of change to guide work around maintaining relationships and I am grateful to Professor Neil for giving me sight of a draft article which is soon to appear in the Family Law journal describing this work. This article will be a ‘must read’ for all who are interested in this topic and I am not going to spoil its impact by quoting from it today. What it is possible for me to say, however, is that the work that is currently being undertaken by UEA, and that underpins the article, demonstrates that the debate has already moved on from ‘whether’ there is a need for a new approach to post adoption contact, to ‘how’, what will be a wholesale change of culture, it is to be accomplished in practice.

The ambitious target of this work is to establish the default position for future adopters so that the clear expectation will be that of maintaining birth family relationships as the starting point for every child, only to be ruled out where it is unsafe or unhelpful, as opposed to the current default with contact only being ruled in in exceptional circumstances.

How will this cultural shift towards greater openness impact upon the work of the Family Court and how may the court support the looked-for change in the default setting so that maintaining relationships with a child’s birth family is the starting point, rather than the exception?

The court and the Family judiciary have an important part to play. Orders for contact made under ACA 2002, s 26 when making a placement for adoption order set the template for contact going forward. Where continuing contact in some form is ordered at that stage, this will be an important ‘known known’ about the child to be taken on board by any potential adopters with whom placement may be considered.

This address is neither a court judgment, Practice Direction nor other guidance from the President of the Family Division. These words are simply my thoughts as to the way forward for the courts. How we actually proceed will be down to decisions made, case by case, by individual judges and magistrates, on the evidence before the court and guided, no doubt, by decisions of the higher courts that may be handed down in time to come.

With that very clear caveat, I hope, understood, I would like to offer some preliminary thoughts on how that court may best support the changed approach which seems set to be coming.

A, if not the, central impediment to change, in terms of the law is the approach that has hitherto been taken to views of the child’s adopters on issues of future contact. The House of Lords decision in Re C (Adoption Order: Conditions)[9], made over 35 years ago in 1988, continues to dictate that, other than in the most exceptional case, the court should not impose contact upon an unwilling adopter[10]. As the leading opinion of Lord Ackner stressed, their Lordships determined the issue on the basis that the case-law at that time ‘rightly stress[ed] that in normal circumstances it is desirable that there should be a complete break’ with the child’s natural family.

I have always worried that the respect afforded to an adopter’s autonomy on issues of contact has set the bar too high. If the reality is that the court will not make a contact order against the wishes of an adopter, and, on the other hand, will not make a contact order if the adopter is in agreement with what is proposed, one is entitled to ask why Parliament has given any power to the court to make post-adoption contact orders at all.

Whilst, legally, it is of course right that the adopters become the legal parents of their child fully and in every respect on adoption, and it is right that the State should not impose its views on how a parent should care for their child unless there is a proportionate need to do so, for example through care proceedings, surely the fact that the State has already intervened to a significant degree in the life of a child who leaves care to move to adoption is a relevant factor here. Where the State intervention, in the form of an order for contact, has taken place even before any prospective adopter has been identified for the child, the argument that this may conflict with the autonomy of a future adoptive parent is surely questionable. Phrases involving chickens and eggs, and tails and dogs, come to mind here.

Why should the possibility that some, as yet unknown, prospective adopter may not accept contact with a child’s birth family, be a trump card preventing the social workers and the court from insisting that such contact will be of benefit to the child? By the time that a child reaches the stage of being a candidate for a placement for adoption order a great deal will be known about their future welfare needs. Where those needs have been evaluated through the prism of the modern approach to post-adoption contact and the court concludes that it will be in the interests of that child to maintain a relationship with a member, or members, of their birth family, surely, in accordance with its duty under ACA 2002, s 1 to afford paramount consideration to the child’s welfare throughout his or her life, the court has a duty to say so in its order.

The needs of every child who is put up for adoption will be unique to that child. During the matching process prospective adopters will take on board each aspect of the child’s needs when deciding whether or not they feel able to offer them a home, for life, in their family. A child’s racial or cultural needs will be important, as will those relating to health or any disability. More basically, a child’s gender or physical presentation may be important in the adopter’s decision to commit or not. Be that as it may, each of these individual factors about a child will be largely immutable and not open to change. If an adoption takes place then they are to be accepted by the adopter as part of their child. While a need for future contact is plainly not immutable and could be re-evaluated, where a court has determined that this child does need to maintain a relationship with their family, why is that to be seen as being in a totally different category of need to, say, a specific health requirement for an asthmatic child, or support with reading for one who is dyslexic?

Separately, and with genuine respect for all those who adopt children from care, I would question the ability of most adopters to make an informed decision about future contact either at the time that matching takes place or, even, at the later stage of the adoption itself. No matter how thorough the briefing that they may have had from social services about their child may be, and no matter how good their training may have been, are they really in a better position, at that point, to determine issues of contact than the social workers or the judge?

The ability to understand, as the messages from research now understand, how later disruption in adoption may be ameliorated or avoided by increased support for maintaining family relationships at an earlier stage, may not readily come to adopters in the early stages of their journey. Surely, when it is in the child’s interests to do so, it is right for the court to insist, through its orders, that contact should take place?

Drawing this strand together, if there is to be a culture change with regard to future family contact, then, as part of that culture change, it is likely that the almost absolute autonomy currently afforded by the courts to the adopters in matters of contact will have to be reviewed.

Moving on, and finally in terms of this address, how should the court use its power to make orders to influence the future development of contact?

Firstly, and I would suggest most importantly, the likely template for contact arrangements post adoption should be set at the placement order stage. This is not a change in the current approach. A court making a s 26 contact order, in keeping with the duty under s 1 and its lifelong focus, should have regard not only to the short-term contact arrangements required in the pre-adoption stage, but also in setting the course for the maintenance of family relations over the longer term if that is in the child’s best interests. Also, there is nothing wrong, and I would suggest it should be good practice, for a s 26 contact order to contain a recital as to the court’s view on contact arrangements post-adoption.

I am confident that it is already the case that judges and magistrates give priority to the determination of contact arrangements when making a placement order. Given the growing move towards greater family contact, it is to be expected that, where social work evidence is lacking on this important area of a case, the court will ask for an appraisal of the options set against the background of the modern approach, and, if necessary, adjourn the case to obtain one.

As the only family members who are likely to be before the court will be the child’s parents, it is natural that the prospect of future contact with them will be considered. Courts should, however, look more widely in every case. This is particularly so when a child has siblings who are not likely to move with them to their adoptive home. I have described as striking the fact that some 59% of siblings did not have contact with them. All things being equal, siblings (and cousins) are likely to be alive for a greater proportion of a person’s life than any other family relation; this suggests that maintenance of such relationships should be a priority.

Looking beyond siblings, there may well be other relations, for example grandparents, uncles or aunts who may safely meet with a child, even where it is unsafe for parents to do so. In this regard I would mention the work the ‘Lifelong Links’[11] project which has been developed by the Family Rights Group to foster links between children in the care system and those from their family or earlier life who are important to them. The work of Lifelong Links, which has been the subject of a three year follow up study, is seen to make a marked contribution to the confidence, sense of identity and well-being of the children it has worked with. In a welcome development, Adoption England have provided funding to the Family Rights Group to consider whether Lifelong Links could be developed and adapted to support children and young people who have been adopted, who want to get in touch with members of their birth family and where their adoptive parents are supportive of this. Once a working model has been developed, Lifelong Links will be offered to a small group of adopted children.

When we move on to look at the court’s role at a final adoption hearing, where there is power to make orders for contact under ACA 2002, s 51A, I would like to stimulate discussion about quite a radical change.

Currently, the court’s order at this final stage is something of a ‘one-stop shop’ with a regime of contact being set on the basis that this is what will apply for the remainder of the child’s childhood. I would question the wisdom of this continuing to be the case. The stage of making a final adoption order may, indeed, be precisely the wrong moment to fix the contact arrangements for all time. A parent may still, at that stage, be opposed to adoption. The child and the adopters may only be just beginning to settle into their new relationship. The need to support the adopters’ confidence in their role may be at its highest and their knowledge of their child’s needs in terms of contact may be at its least informed stage.

Rather than fix the contact arrangements, once and for all, on the making of the adoption order, isn’t there real value in there being a formal review of contact with the birth family some two or more years later? By that time parents or other family members may have come to accept the situation and be more available, in emotional terms, to support the child in their adoptive home. The adopters will know their child well and may themselves feel more confident and secure in their role, and therefore more able to contemplate a greater degree of contact. The child will also be that bit older and may express clear views on the topic.

Whether it is legally permissible for the court, under the current law, to use its powers under s 51A to direct, at the time of making the adoption order, that the case should come back some years hence for a review of contact is not for me to pontificate upon in this lecture, but s 51A(2) does expressly provide that the court has jurisdiction to make a contact order ‘when making the adoption order or at any time thereafter’. It may, in any event, be a matter of good social work practice that contact will be kept under more active review after adoption than currently seems to be the case.

I do, however, put the idea out there. I suspect that many POTATO parents may agree, with the cruel benefit of hindsight, that giving greater thought to organised and supported contact might have seen off, or significantly lessened, their child’s interest in achieving such contact in a clandestine, unregulated and unsafe manner themselves.

In conclusion, I hope that what I have said has been of interest and may stimulate further thought and debate. As I have described, it seems clear that letterbox contact can no longer be seen as the appropriate regime for most cases, and should certainly not be the norm (as it has been for many years). Any contact arrangement will only be justified if it is for the benefit of the child, but that benefit is not to be confined to the short term. On the contrary the potential for some familial relationships to continue and be nurtured through contact may be of real benefit during the teen years and beyond into adulthood. Given the ‘life-long’ focus of s 1, adoption agencies and the court each has a duty to consider these matters more fully than may have been the case in the past. The question of contact should never be seen as an ‘add on’ issue, either at the placement order stage or at a final adoption. Rather, it should be centre stage and seen as an integral part of the child’s support package as they move on towards adoption, adolescence and adulthood in the years to come.

[1] https://www.judiciary.uk/speech-by-sir-andrew-mcfarlane-adapting-adoption-to-the-modern-world/ ; and see wider discussion of the future of adoption in ‘Is the wind of change about to blow through adoption?’ [Andrew Bainham] [2024] Fam Law 176.

[2] https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/ld201213/ldselect/ldadopt/127/12704.htm#a1 at paras 257-258.

[3] https://committees.parliament.uk/committee/581/children-and-families-act-2014-committee/news/174947/children-and-families-act-2014-an-example-of-inadequate-implementation/

[4] Children and Youth Services Review 155 (2023) 107267

[5] Psychology, Public Policy and Law (2019) 25 p 57 (American Psychological Association)

[6] A Survey of Adoptive Families: Following up children adopted in Yorkshire and Humberside Region [UEA Centre for Research on Children and Families]

[7] https://www.nuffieldfjo.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/nfjo_report_adoption_connections_20210913v2.pdf

[8] https://adoptionengland.co.uk/

[9] [1988] 2 FLR 159

[10] Re R (Adoption: Contact) [2005] EWCA Civ 1128 ; and Re B (Post-Adoption Contact) [2019] EWCA Civ 29.

[11] https://frg.org.uk/lifelong-links/
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https://www.echolive.ie/corknews/arid-41444416.html?fbclid=IwY2xjawEW-Y9leHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHXOQavGRlfxlFrmM3nBo2OPoqSH9uPVsanttVSGzERRurT4F7QWg4TMC4Q_aem_eXpxhvBbEqD4BecN0yFRcg

Bessborough survivor: ‘What was it for, why were we punished?’

A survivor of the Bessborough mother and baby institution has spoken about the death, more than 60 years ago, of her baby, and said she blames the Catholic Church for putting ‘hatred’ toward single mothers into the minds of Irish people. Donal O’Keeffe hears her story

Between 1922 and 1998, the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary ran Bessborough as a mother and baby institution, and during that time 9,768 mothers and 8,938 babies were admitted.  According to the final report of the Mother and Baby Homes Commission of Investigation, some 923 children died at Bessborough or after being transferred from there.  Burial records exist for only 64 of the children who died in the care of the Bessborough institution or after transfer from it, meaning that the records and remains of 859 children are missing.  In 1960, Madeleine Walsh, a pregnant 18-year-old from Co Tipperary living and working in London, was sent back to Ireland, to Bessborough, by a Catholic group called The Crusade of Rescue.  While she was in labour, the nuns gave Ms Walsh an injection, and she later developed a large abscess where she had received the injection.  Her baby William was born healthy, but when he was three days old, he became suddenly extremely ill and was taken from his mother, who also became very sick.  When William was eventually brought to St Finbarr’s Hospital, it was too late to save him and he died, six weeks old. His death certificate says he died of septicaemia.  Still desperately ill, Ms Walsh was told William had already been buried. Three decades later, visiting Bessborough, Ms Walsh was told he had been buried in the empty quadrant of the nuns’ graveyard by the Bessborough folly.  In 2019, almost 60 years after William died, the fifth interim report of the State commission on mother and baby homes was published. It was scathing in its criticism of the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary at Bessborough, describing the information the nuns had given the commission as “speculative, inaccurate, and misleading”.  The report also contained distressing details clearly identifying William and showing that he had, in fact, been buried, over half a century earlier, in a pauper’s grave in the overgrown Famine graveyard on Carr’s Hill.  Ms Walsh spoke at last month’s 10th annual commemoration at Bessborough, an event organised by her daughter, Carmel Cantwell. The event was MC’d by PJ Coogan, with music by Myles Gaffney. Ms Walsh described the institution as “a place of complete horror” when she was brought there in 1960.  “I was stripped, with two nuns looking on, observing what I was taking off, taking every single [thing], even little studded earrings you could hardly see were taken from me, everything. My shoes, everything.”

She was made to wear a canvas dress and clogs, and she and another girl were put to work in the labour ward. “I wasn’t aware of the facts of life, I didn’t even know where a baby came from, and yet we were put in charge of the labour ward.”

She said there was very little they could do to help each “beautiful Irish girl, frightened out of her life”.

Her voice faltering, Ms Walsh said she had been coming to the Bessborough folly for years, visiting what she had been led to believe was William’s grave, “talking to him, apologising to him”, before learning he was somewhere on Carr’s Hill.

She said the Mother and Baby Institutions Payment Scheme Act 2023, which excludes those who were in an institution for less than six months, was “an insult” even to those eligible.  Around 68,000 people, mothers and babies, are believed to have gone through the religious-run system for unmarried mothers but only 34,000 survivors will be eligible for redress.  Reflecting on her time in Bessborough, and remembering all the other girls and women who were put in such institutions, Ms Walsh said so many mothers had been incarcerated, their babies taken from them, and so many babies had died, like her baby William.  “I wonder, what was it for? Why were we punished? What did we do wrong?” she asked.

“We could have looked after our babies, fed our babies, loved our babies, if we had been given the facilities, but no, everybody hated [us]. It was the church who got onto the parishioners, to put this hatred into their minds about single mothers.”

Afterward, in a thoughtful address, the former lord mayor of Cork, independent councillor Kieran McCarthy, spoke about the many stories of Cork’s history, and of Blackrock, the stories he said which had the power to stop people in their tracks.  However, Mr McCarthy said, when the story came to that of Bessborough House, the reader would learn of the 19th-century folly, and the Pike family and their steamship industry, “and then you turn the page over, and for our story today, the ink disappears”.

Cork had done a lot, he suggested, to forget about Bessborough and the lives blighted by the institution.

PLANNING

“This gathering is a beacon or a lighthouse to not only tell the stories of what happened here, to tell the human experiences of what happened, but also lead the calls to break the selectiveness of Cork and Irish history and completing the multitude of memory banks that are only partly explored and to learn from all of that.” Mr McCarthy said that he believed that the grounds of Bessborough needed to become “a large-scale memory site or park”.

He added that, “when the planning process is finished”, he believed that Cork City Council, “with the help of central Government [would] work with the developer to see what can be done to either directly purchase or CPO (compulsory purchase order) the lands for commemoration purposes”.

Early last year, MWB Two, the developers behind a proposed 92-unit residential development at Bessborough in Blackrock, lodged an appeal with An Bord Pleanála in a bid to overturn Cork City Council’s decision to refuse planning permission. A decision is overdue on that appeal.  A separate decision from An Bord Pleanála on three separate developments, in total 467 apartments, at Bessborough, outstanding since 2021, is also overdue.  Sinn Féin councillor Michelle Gould said creating a memorial park would be “so fitting”.  "The call by everyone at the commemoration was that there should be no planning permission, there should be nothing built here, it should be a memorial park,” she said.

“I think all parties and none should come together now, An Bord Pleanála should refuse planning permission, and Cork City Council, with the help of central Government, should CPO it, and the first thing that should be done is that the grounds be scanned for human remains.”
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Articles / Uncovering the truth behind forced adoption
« Last post by Forgotten Mother on July 27, 2024, 01:27:12 PM »
https://www.churchillfellowship.org/news-views/blogs/uncovering-the-truth-behind-forced-adoption/?fbclid=IwY2xjawERxLJleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHU4NBlJd6NNIY6DZOybI8FuGzUN2D2DuzcPJ8ffd2NJ-rCzL_g9P8eZ0BQ_aem_2oEDx8xw0eVBPMTmWIs9Lw

Uncovering the truth behind forced adoption
Jeannot Farmer

On a late evening in July 2010, I read a Facebook message on my new phone that began with the line 'You might want to be sitting down and on your own when you read this'.

The message was from my son who had been taken from me at birth, and it was one for which I had longed for 31 years.   It marked the beginning of a journey that uncovered truths about our shared and separate personal histories, as well as raising questions about policies and practices that forced many thousands of unmarried mothers to be separated from their babies, so they could be adopted in the decades following World War II.  In March 2013, the Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard apologised to those affected by forced adoption in the country. In recent years, the UK government has been lobbied to make a similar apology, and apologies have already been delivered on behalf of the Scottish and Welsh devolved governments. By accepting responsibility, governments relieved mothers of the perceived shame of having ‘given up’ their children. They relieved adopted individuals of the belief that they were rejected by their mothers.

"If there is a single theme that ran through all my findings, it is the demand for truth to be told."

However, these national apologies have limited value if they are not validated by concrete measures that seek to alleviate the grief and loss that survivors continue to experience, and that transcends generations. Increasingly, distress is voiced, not just from parents and adoptees, but from siblings and grandchildren across original and adoptive families, who also suffer loss of connection, belonging and family history.  A Churchill Fellowship provided an ideal opportunity to discover how different Australian States had responded to the recommendations published by the Senate committee. I travelled to Queensland, Victoria, and Western Australia, all of which have their own legislation governing community services, and different strengths in their responses to the national apology. I met with politicians, government officials, campaigners, researchers, and survivors.  I learned how information services had been reformed to provide identifying information to all those affected, and how State governments had ensured a safe balance between rights to information and rights to privacy.  I learned about the difficulties in ensuring that mental health services are affordable and available and that medical professionals receive training. I learned that a lack of research has limited the knowledge base about the complexities of relationships following reunions, and that no practice model has been developed.  I learned about benefits of social support available through peer activities and counselling.  I learned that the effectiveness of measures regarding information and support services is often limited by a lack of community awareness. I was privileged and personally overjoyed to speak to former Prime Minister Julia Gillard who told me of the importance of a National Archive exhibition that had toured Australia. Memorial statues in States play a vital role in providing focal points for commemorative events and quiet reflection.  If there is a single theme that ran through all my findings, it is the demand for truth to be told, whether at an individual level or in how such policies and practices developed in public, religious and third sector bodies.  As my son and I continue to navigate our journey, it is my hope that we, in the UK, can learn from those measures that have created healing in Australia. Theatre Alliance based in Kilmarnock has already produced a musical play based on interviews and testimonies from mothers and fathers and includes language from the Scottish apology. This manner of awareness raising is key to developing a more truthful and nuanced narrative of this historic injustice.
95
https://theconversation.com/scotland-apologised-in-2023-for-historic-forced-adoptions-but-this-happened-throughout-the-uk-226267?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR0H67rZtdF49WxEwOYx7teyKf9TMsFDGXIdf6OOJHpImIj72Md-ttO1eaE_aem_2jnUKfQMueDbmqMav0Pq7Q

Scotland apologised in 2023 for historic forced adoptions but this happened throughout the UK
Published: March 22, 2024 11.54am GMT

“For the decades of pain that you have suffered, I offer today a sincere and heartfelt and unreserved apology. We were wrong.” One year ago, on March 22 2023, the then first minister, Nicola Sturgeon, stood up at Holyrood and said sorry for the Scottish government’s role in historic forced adoptions.  From the 1950s to the 1970s, thousands of young, unmarried women as many as 60,000 were coerced into giving up their babies. “It is a level of injustice,” Sturgeon said, “which is hard now for us to comprehend.”

Rooted in conservative attitudes towards sex outside marriage, forced adoptions saw pregnant single women sent, mostly by local health authorities, to mother and baby homes run by religious organisations. After birth, the babies were adopted and the mothers returned home, prevented from speaking of what had happened.  This scandal did not just affect Scotland. It was common practice across the UK. In 2021 I submitted written and oral evidence to an inquiry into historic forced adoption covering England and Wales. My recent research highlights that the UK government’s stated position denying state involvement is wholly untenable, when faced with the historical record, much of which comes from its very own archives.

Reckoning with the past

Scotland’s reckoning with the past came from over a decade of campaigning by birth mothers and adult adoptees. They wanted the government to follow the Australian example, where on March 21 2012 the then prime minister, Julia Gillard, issued a formal public apology, following a major inquiry. Scotland has not held an inquiry. But the government has, to date, been receptive to the voices of campaigners.  This same economy of adoption underpinned the mother and baby homes and Magdalene Laundries system in Northern Ireland, albeit from a Catholic perspective. Until direct rule by the UK government was implemented in 1972, Northern Ireland had its own national government with administration and legislative responsibilities.  In 2021, the UK parliamentary joint committee on human rights announced an inquiry into historic forced adoptions in England and Wales. This, too, followed pressure from campaigners and the media, as well as the apology the Catholic Church issued in 2016 for the role it played.  The subsequent report estimated that from 1949 to 1976, in England and Wales around 185,000 unmarried mothers as many as 215,000 and their babies were affected.  The inquiry found the UK government was ultimately responsible for what it termed “the actions and omissions” which inflicted harm on so many young, vulnerable women and children. Actions included judgemental and cruel practices from a range of state-employed health, welfare and social service professionals. Omissions regarding a failure to protect young, unmarried women and ensure their human rights were upheld.

State actions and omissions

My research into UK governmental archives shows that forced adoption could not have happened in scope or scale without the state. The UK government transformed adoption from a cottage industry to one of mass production.  Before the second world war, mother and baby homes kept families together. The mothers trained for domestic service, which, crucially, enabled them to obtain work and have somewhere to live. Adoptions were less common, with around 50,000 faciliated in 13 years, from 1926 to 1939.  This changed in 1943, when the UK government introduced subsidies for mother and baby homes and registered adoption societies. New homes were opened, old ones expanded and more workers were appointed to handle the growing numbers of adoptions.  It briefly considered nationalising these institutions when the foundations of the welfare state were being laid in the late 1940s. However, the existing system was seen to be working well. Fundamentally, the issue was deemed a moral and spiritual one, more suited to religious oversight. Ultimately no changes were made; money flowed in and babies flowed out.  New adoption legislation, in 1949 and 1958, made the legal process easier and quicker. Most babies were between ten days and six weeks old when they were given new identities with adoptive families. The annual figure grew year-on-year, peaking in England at 16,164 in 1968.  Secrecy ensured by families was integral to making adoption work. Adoptive families aimed to pass the child off biologically as their own and keep up appearances of respectability. This meant babies growing up in the stable, typically affluent family environment idealised by health, welfare and social professionals. For mothers, it meant they could return home and begin their lives again, untainted by the stigma of illegitimacy.  The UK government was well aware that mothers were being coerced that their decision to give up their babies was not just a difficult moral dilemma. As early as 1951, the representative bodies for registered adoption societies highlighted that unmarried mothers had little agency to refuse.  “For the decades of pain that you have suffered, I offer today a sincere and heartfelt and unreserved apology. We were wrong.”

One year ago, on March 22 2023, the then first minister, Nicola Sturgeon, stood up at Holyrood and said sorry for the Scottish government’s role in historic forced adoptions.  From the 1950s to the 1970s, thousands of young, unmarried women as many as 60,000 were coerced into giving up their babies. “It is a level of injustice,” Sturgeon said, “which is hard now for us to comprehend.”

Rooted in conservative attitudes towards sex outside marriage, forced adoptions saw pregnant single women sent, mostly by local health authorities, to mother and baby homes run by religious organisations. After birth, the babies were adopted and the mothers returned home, prevented from speaking of what had happened.  This scandal did not just affect Scotland. It was common practice across the UK. In 2021 I submitted written and oral evidence to an inquiry into historic forced adoption covering England and Wales. My recent research highlights that the UK government’s stated position denying state involvement is wholly untenable, when faced with the historical record, much of which comes from its very own archives.

We believe in experts. We believe knowledge must inform decisions

An archival photograph of young people in the 1950s.  Women’s rights to financial support and housing were only enshrined in law in the 1970s. Tony Henshaw|Alamy

Reckoning with the past

Scotland’s reckoning with the past came from over a decade of campaigning by birth mothers and adult adoptees. They wanted the government to follow the Australian example, where on March 21 2012 the then prime minister, Julia Gillard, issued a formal public apology, following a major inquiry. Scotland has not held an inquiry. But the government has, to date, been receptive to the voices of campaigners.  This same economy of adoption underpinned the mother and baby homes and Magdalene Laundries system in Northern Ireland, albeit from a Catholic perspective. Until direct rule by the UK government was implemented in 1972, Northern Ireland had its own national government with administration and legislative responsibilities.  In 2021, the UK parliamentary joint committee on human rights announced an inquiry into historic forced adoptions in England and Wales. This, too, followed pressure from campaigners and the media, as well as the apology the Catholic Church issued in 2016 for the role it played.  The subsequent report estimated that from 1949 to 1976, in England and Wales around 185,000 unmarried mothers as many as 215,000 and their babies were affected.  The inquiry found the UK government was ultimately responsible for what it termed “the actions and omissions” which inflicted harm on so many young, vulnerable women and children. Actions included judgemental and cruel practices from a range of state-employed health, welfare and social service professionals. Omissions regarding a failure to protect young, unmarried women and ensure their human rights were upheld.

State actions and omissions

My research into UK governmental archives shows that forced adoption could not have happened in scope or scale without the state. The UK government transformed adoption from a cottage industry to one of mass production.  Before the second world war, mother and baby homes kept families together. The mothers trained for domestic service, which, crucially, enabled them to obtain work and have somewhere to live. Adoptions were less common, with around 50,000 faciliated in 13 years, from 1926 to 1939.  This changed in 1943, when the UK government introduced subsidies for mother and baby homes and registered adoption societies. New homes were opened, old ones expanded and more workers were appointed to handle the growing numbers of adoptions.  It briefly considered nationalising these institutions when the foundations of the welfare state were being laid in the late 1940s. However, the existing system was seen to be working well. Fundamentally, the issue was deemed a moral and spiritual one, more suited to religious oversight. Ultimately no changes were made; money flowed in and babies flowed out.  New adoption legislation, in 1949 and 1958, made the legal process easier and quicker. Most babies were between ten days and six weeks old when they were given new identities with adoptive families. The annual figure grew year-on-year, peaking in England at 16,164 in 1968.  Secrecy ensured by families was integral to making adoption work. Adoptive families aimed to pass the child off biologically as their own and keep up appearances of respectability. This meant babies growing up in the stable, typically affluent family environment idealised by health, welfare and social professionals. For mothers, it meant they could return home and begin their lives again, untainted by the stigma of illegitimacy.  The UK government was well aware that mothers were being coerced that their decision to give up their babies was not just a difficult moral dilemma. As early as 1951, the representative bodies for registered adoption societies highlighted that unmarried mothers had little agency to refuse.  The nascent welfare state was designed around male financial responsibility for their families. Its failure to adequately provide financial support and housing to unmarried mothers was intentional.  Officials deemed unmarried mothers to be undeserving compared with married women in conventional families. Their entitlements to financial support were refused or diluted. Those concerning housing were subject to the discretion of judgemental local and central government officials.  This would only change in 1974 with British judge Morris Finer’s landmark report on one-parent families. Women would have to wait another four years for their legal right to housing to be guaranteed, in 1977.  Demonstrating that historic forced adoptions were the product of central government policy, the 2021 inquiry recommended that the UK government apologise.  The latter’s written response in Februrary 2023 said: “The government agrees that the treatment of women and their children in adoption practices during this period was wrong and should not have happened. Whilst we do not think it is appropriate for a formal government apology to be given, since the state did not actively support these practices, we do wish to say we are sorry of behalf of society to all those affected.”

This belies the fact that the state was far from powerless. It enabled, financed and sustained forced adoption as its preferred policy.  On April 25 2023, as part of an official apology from the Welsh government, deputy minister for social services Julie Morgan offered her “deepest sympathy and regret to all affected” for enduring “such appalling historical practices”.  Importantly, Morgan’s statement recognised that forced adoption predated devolution. England had legal, political and administrative responsibility at that time. In not apologising, the UK government is denying justice to thousands of birth mothers whose numbers tragically dwindle daily and adult adoptees who may never know the women who gave birth to them.
96
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-13640747/Inside-Noel-Radfords-adoption-story.html

Inside Noel Radford's heartbreaking adoption story: Star of 22 Kids and Counting began search for his biological parents after his daughter's health scare

    Noel Radford was adopted when he was just ten days old in January 1971 
    READ MORE: Mother-of-22 Sue Radford hits out at husband Noel after he scratched their £40,000 motorhome

By Gina Kalsi For Mailonline

Published: 14:03, 21 July 2024 | Updated: 14:03, 21 July 2024

Many know Noel Radford as the smiling, hardworking and doting patriatch of Britain's biggest family and star of the television sow 22 Kids and Counting on Channel 5.  He is married to Sue Radford and the pair, based in Morecambe, Lancashire, met when she was aged seven and he was 11.  She then became pregnant with their first child Christopher, when she was just 14 and Noel was 18.  The couple are both adopted and whilst Sue did not want to know about her birth parents, Noel was intrigued to find out more about them after his daughter fell ill.  He was born on Christmas Eve in 1970, was adopted when he was just ten days old in January 1971 by his mother and father.  During the third series of the show, Noel opened up about some of the ways in which being adopted had affected his adult life including a lack of knowledge about his biological family's health history.  This issue reared its head when their teenage daughter Ellie was taken to the doctors for tests after she was not feeling well.  Her liver function was high and medic suspected that she may have Gilbert's Syndrome, a hereditary condition that is passed through genetics.  During the third series of the show, Noel opened up about some of the ways in which being adopted had affected his adult life - including a lack of knowledge about his biological family's health history.  This issue reared its head when their teenage daughter Ellie was taken to the doctors for tests after she was not feeling well.   Her liver function was high and medic suspected that she may have Gilbert's Syndrome, a hereditary condition that is passed through genetics.  Sue said: 'Basically Gilbert's Syndrome is hereditary, it's genetic, it can get passed on, so she said either I'm a carrier or Noel is a carrier. It might mean that some of the other children might have it.'

Ellie's result prompted both Noel and Sue to get tested themselves for the condition, as none of them know their family history.  After the tests were conducted, Noel admitted that he wanted to find out more about his biological side of the family.  He said on the show: 'After doing that test it's got me thinking, we're both adopted and we know absolutely nothing about our medical history at all.  I'd quite like to find out more about my family, where I'm from, just anything about myself.'

Sue said she did not want to find out more about her biological parents, whereas Noel said he was interested to dig deeper into his family background.  Noel said: 'I don't really know much about my biological family so something like this will shed a bit of light about what the history might bring, health wise.  It might tell me a bit more about who I am, where I'm from, possibly my birth parents. Now as I'm getting older, I do think about it a bit more often.'

The father said he didn't really think about his birth parents when he was younger and saw his adoptive parents as 'mum and dad'.  Noel's DNA test showed he had been born in Stepping Hill Hospital, Stockport and his birth date was the same as his birthday.  He fought back tears as he said: 'I don't even know why I don't like talking about it. I just don't like it. I have a lot of respect for my mum and dad.  To be honest, I'm glad I was adopted, otherwise I wouldn't have the life I have now.'

Noel's adoptive father said he was supportive of the search and told him that his birth mother was a 'young mum'.  My birth mum was 16, so she's about 68 or 69 now. There's a good chance she's still alive and kicking. Hopefully she is. I don't know the situation she was in.  I do wonder sometimes, especially when it's my birthday, I can't imagine that she doesn't at some point in the day, think about me.'

At the end of the series, Noel reveals that the document has his real birth mother's name on it, perhaps hinting that he will continue his search.   In the couple's joint memoir, The Radfords: Making Life Count, which was published in February, Noel gave an update about his birth mother.  He wrote: 'My birth mum is still none the wiser that I have been looking to find out more information about her, unless she watches us on the TV and she’s maybe put two and two together.  I don’t think she would have been told details about who adopted me, where they were from and what my surname was going to be. I think things are completely different now compared with the time I was adopted.  I could be wrong but I think that in the 1970s after you were given up, that was it. Though there may have been a six-week cooling off period, where you could change your mind and have the child back but then there was no going back after that.'

22 Kids and Counting continues with season five airing on 21 July.   

What is Gilbert's syndrome?

People who have this syndrome have slightly higher than normal levels of bilirubin build up in the blood.  Bilirubin is a yellow substance found naturally in the blood. It forms as a by-product when old red blood cells are broken down.

Symptoms of Gilbert's disease:

Jaundice, yellowing of the skin and whites of the eyes

Around 1 in 3 people with Gilbert's syndrome do not experience any symptoms at all.  People with Gilbert's syndrome often find there are certain triggers that can bring on an episode of jaundice.  These may include:

    Being dehydrated
    Going without food for long periods of time (fasting)
    Drinking too much alcohol (keep within the recommended weekly units of alcohol)
    Being ill with an infection
    Heavy physical exertion
    Not getting enough sleep
    Having surgery
    Having a period

Source: NHS
97
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https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-07-19/austin-search-for-a-birth-parent-is-often-a-difficult-one/104085072?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR2c-sZDbJhtxip82zxB766YHOJGhcKq1Z3rP5t3M9rBEf9o45Fjp9kdKUw_aem_skS-M59hLPZiTLBkf_DJwg

Navigating grief, curiosity and heartbreak when searching for a birth parent
By Anastasia Safioleas for Austin

Adoption, donor conception, out-of-home care, an absent parent these are all reasons why someone might not know their birth parent.  But beyond the reason, the decision to search for a missing birth parent or family member is often difficult.  Ask forty-year-old counsellor from Sydney Kimberley Lee if she would like to find her birth mother and she will admit that until recently the answer was almost always 'no'.  "I used to be like, 'Everything is good. I don't know this person, why would I?'" she says.

Kimberley was born in Busan, Korea but was relinquished at birth and adopted at four months old by a Sydney couple.  "'I have a really beautiful family so why would I want to meet this person who abandoned me and clearly didn't want me,' is the narrative I carried for a long time," she says.

"[Adoptees] wonder about all the different possible lives we could have had and there's a lot of grief around that."

Dr Michelle Blanchard is the CEO of Vanish in Victoria, a not-for-profit organisation that offers support and assistance to people affected by adoption, out-of-home care and donor conception.  She says reuniting with family is often romanticised but in reality it can be emotionally challenging and overwhelming.  "Regardless of whether a person has had a positive upbringing, they may still have questions around who they are and where they came from."

This leads many people to turn to counsellors like Kimberley, who works with adoptees like herself and organisations such as Vanish, for support.

A complex journey

When we are introduced to Austin, a 20-something-year-old played by Michael Theo in ABC iview's latest comedy drama, he successfully tracks down the father he never knew.  Once they meet, their attempt at building a relationship soon turns rocky.  "Families and relationships are difficult and complex and so they often take work to build those relationships over time," says Dr Blanchard.

In the case of reuniting with family as an adult, that complexity is heightened.  "There are some examples where a natural mother responds very quickly to an approach from their adult child saying I've been waiting for this call for a very long time," Dr Blanchard says.

"In other cases, it completely takes them by surprise, so there are a range of reactions and responses in those circumstances."

This can also include what's commonly referred to as the honeymoon period following a reunion.  "For a little while it can feel that there is this close and warm connection," says Dr Blanchard.

But like most honeymoon periods, it almost always ends and the hard work begins in earnest.

Fear of the unknown

Kimberley has very little information about her birth mother.  "My birth mother was not married to my birth father and during that time in Korea I'm 40, so it was 1983 it wasn't socially acceptable and a lot of single, unwed mothers were told they had no other options and you had to give the child up for adoption," she says.

Flown to Australia as a baby alongside another young Korean adoptee, waiting at the airport were Kimberley's new parents.  "I was adopted by a Caucasian mother and a Chinese father so that's a very different experience to a lot of intercountry adoptees I grew up with a whole Asian side to my family, a Chinese side.  I also have a younger sister and younger brother, both biological to my adopted parents.  That's had quite a profound experience when compared to other intercountry adoptees who grew up with two white parents in perhaps a small country town where maybe they were the only Asian face in the whole community ..."

For Kimberley, when it comes to the question of whether to search for her mother, she will often tell herself just because you can, doesn't mean you have to.  "For me it's a journey around agency and remembering that I have agency and that as babies we had no say about what happened to us," she says.

But despite feelings of hesitation, Kimberley has taken a tentative first step.  "I've done four DNA tests with different companies, but I haven't ticked the box to match me with any genetic matches yet," she says.

"When the first DNA test arrived, it sat on my desk for three months I couldn't bring myself to open the box.  Once I open that can of worms, it can quickly take up a lot of time and energy, so I want to make sure I've got room for it.  The documents say [my mother] was 21, so she would be 61 now. It's possible that she's alive."

Decided to search for your birth parents? What next?

    Talk to a counsellor or psychologist about your interest in finding your birth parents
    Get in touch with Family Relationships Online, a government initiative providing services and recourses to assist in a range of family issues
    Speak with family and friends about your thoughts on finding your birth parents

Source: ReachOut

Leap of faith

According to Dr Blanchard, even after making the decision to begin searching for your birth family, obstacles can make it difficult.  "Sometimes we find that the person they are searching for has passed away [or] that person doesn't want to connect and has decided not to build that relationship with their relative and unfortunately some of the early records aren't particularly accurate," she says.

"People gave birth under a different name or have changed their name and in the case of natural fathers, there might not be a lot of information available on the person's record."

Kimberley Lee smiles for the camera

Kimberley plans to return to Korea to continue her search for her birth mother. (Supplied)  "People often describe their experience as disenfranchised grief and it's that grief where others in the community don't necessarily understand what you're grieving, or perhaps feel that your response or experience with grief isn't as valid as other forms of loss."

For Kimberley, there were fears around how the emotional heaviness of searching for her birth parents would impact her family.  "Cognitively I know my family would never reject me or abandon me, but it comes to that first early experience of being abandoned from the person who wasn't supposed to abandon me," she says.

"It's not catastrophising. I've experienced this and lived through this catastrophic event so it's a very real thing that could happen again."

Hope and uncertainty

After much deliberation, Kimberley's first steps towards finding her birth family are now underway.  She said at this point it feels like "anything is possible".  "I want to go back to Korea next year and when I go back I want to have progressed my search.  There's so much ambiguity let alone thinking about our identity and potentially having all these biological family members out there, which I obviously do because I wasn't born in isolation. I must have aunts and uncles and cousins ...  I'm getting closer to being ready to tick those boxes that will help me find my genetic matches."

Stream Austin anytime on ABC iview or watch on ABC TV, Sundays at 8:00pm.
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