There's a lot of talk about the Dutch family who relinquished their eight year old adopted daughter. I've kept quiet on the matter for a few reasons. First of all, I'm quite busy with the holidays and a newborn. Secondly, as my placed daughter's birthday falls in this month, it's quite easy for me to get strung out and overwhelmed regarding adoption speak. Third, well, I'm not an adoptive parent with experience in this area.

But that doesn't mean I don't have my own form of an opinion.

I'm not even going to speak directly about this case. My fellow bloggers have spoken up about the topic. Instead, I'm going to take the broader route. I'm going to speak as a birth parent (since I am one) on how all of "this" makes me feel. "This," of course, refers to how I feel about adoptive parents relinquishing their adopted children. I'll use the word relinquishing as opposed to returning, as others have chosen to do, because I'm really not trying to be ultra-inflammatory. I'm just trying to talk about how it makes me feel.

And really? It makes me feel awful.

When I was searching for parents for my yet unborn daughter, I went through a grueling process. I had a list of things that were absolutely important to me, the things I referred to as "deal-breakers." If a family didn't fit into one of those criteria, they were immediately tossed in the "no" pile. I then had other things that allowed me to sort through the "yes" pile, things that boosted families above others. After I met J & D, our conversations and fledgling relationship continued to allow me to gauge whether or not these were the people I wanted to parent my daughter. For life.

It was not an easy process, finding parents for my daughter, nor was it an easy decision, to actually place my daughter for adoption. It was not something I just woke up one day and "did." It involved a lot of thought, heart-breaking introspection and, unfortunately, some coercion and deceit on the part of the agency. The latter aside, it was a painstaking and grueling process to choose parents and place my daughter for adoption.

And to know that, hypothetically, they could decide to relinquish her if she didn't behave appropriately, well, that's somewhat disturbing to me. After all of the cafe I put into finding the "perfect" family for my child, to know that could possibly mean nothing in the long run is simply unacceptable. I chose my daughter's parents to be her forever family. I expect them to be her forever family, barring tragedies that we won't bother to speak of out loud.

And that's how this current case makes me feel. I can't speak for the girl's Korean mother though I've talked about Korean birth mothers in the past. Even though we don't know the circumstances behind her initial relinquishment, my guess is that anyone with an ounce of maternal instinct does not wish for their child, placed or parented, to feel this kind of rejection twice in their life. One time, of course, can be blamed on the socio-economic attitudes of Koreans and their inability to accept single mothers. The second time, however, no matter her level of disability, smacks of rejection.

My heart breaks as a birth mother, as an everyday mother. The simple idea of something like this happening to my placed daughter makes me cringe with fear, makes me fume with anger. I wanted the best for my daughter when I placed her for adoption. And some might really argue that if this family was truly unable to parent the child, they did the right thing by relinquishing her. I then might argue that they should have considered that prior to adopting, recognizing that families are supposed to be forever and accepting that challenge. (Because isn't all parenting a challenge? At best?)

I'm sure my opinions don't make me popular in all circles. However, they are my opinions. I stand by the fact that my heart would be broken and I would be forever angry if something like this happened to my own daughter. I can only wish the best for this little girl. And I'm sure I'm not alone in either of those thoughts.

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