Tag Archives: Adoption

The Many Dimensions of Openness to Life

Pro-life. Open to life. Welcoming life.These are all descriptions about my marriage with my husband Michael. Although Michael and I didn’t know it when we married in 1995, God would call us to be open to life in an unconventional way.

Michael and I married after taking a series of Natural Family Planning (NFP) classes offered by our diocese. Our NFP teachers were terrific. We appreciated how they took the time to thoroughly explain the method in our classes. Once married, we happily planned our first pregnancy which unfortunately ended in miscarriage. Our second child was born in 1997, and our next two children were spaced every two years, because I breastfed them into toddlerhood, as we had studied in our NFP classes.

Practicing NFP in our marriage so inspired us that we joined our parish’s Pre-Cana team. We have been happy to speak to the engaged couples about NFP. We also found great pleasure in rearing our babies in a life-giving way. We found that this pleasure spilled over to our toddlers as they enjoyed the addition of each new baby.

As our youngest turned five, the call to give birth again wasn’t as clear as it had been in the past. In fact, my husband and I sensed that we felt a different calling. We looked into international adoption. We prayed that if God wanted us to welcome children whose parents could no longer care for them, He would “open the doors”and show us the path. As we discerned, we saw that every step to take was laid in front of us. In just about a year after we began our paperwork, we left for Ethiopia to bring home a wonderful, spirited, creative, ambitious three year old boy. Since arriving in our family, our three older children have surrounded their baby brother, Ejigu, with unconditional love, patience and joy. Michael and I had greatly underestimated their capacity to love and accept a sibling that looks very little like them. Today, Ejigu tags along to all their activities, attends a preschool CCD class, sings in the parish youth choir that I direct, and helps with household chores like his siblings. In turn, his siblings would probably walk through fire for him!

Mike and had always thought we would have several children of our own. Practicing “openness to life ”as our parents did, was our intention. In living God’s plan for marriage however, we found that this “openness” led us also to adoption. After being so richly blessed with our children, we felt an amazing need to look beyond our means and welcome a child whose parents couldn’t provide for him. Our little Ejigu, now three and a half, bore the pain of losing both parents to death and leaving the early attachments of his first home. We feel an amazing honor to continue parenting him as his birth parents would have wanted. In our practice of NFP, we realized that welcoming life has many dimensions. Listening to God’s call is at its heart!

Jennifer and Michael Drees and their children (Emily, Elizabeth, Dominic and Ejigu) are from the Diocese of Camden.

Adoption and Foster Care

“To adopt a child is a great work of love. When it is done, much is given, but much is also received. It is a true exchange of gifts.” – St. John Paul II, Address to Adoptive Families

Many families open their homes to a child in need through fostering and adoption. This “great work of love” is a reflection of how the Father has adopted each one of us as beloved sons and daughters. The Catholic Church also admires the bravery of birth parents who entrust their children to others when they know they cannot provide the loving home their children need.

Adopting or fostering a child can be a difficult process for all involved. In the United States, there are many different ways to foster and adopt and the laws vary by state. If you are considering adoption or fostering, look into the adoption services provided by your state or city’s Catholic Charities Office or reach out to your diocese’s Marriage and Family Life Office for referrals to local adoption agencies.

As Pope Francis wrote in Amoris Laetitia: “The choice of adoption and foster care expresses a particular kind of fruitfulness in the marriage experience, and not only in cases of infertility…They make people aware that children, whether natural, adoptive or taken in foster care, are persons in their own right who need to be accepted, loved and cared for, and not just brought into this world.” (AL, 180)

Stories from Adoptive Families

Book Reviews

Marriage Today

From the Church

From the USCCB

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The Blessing of “Unanswered Prayers”: An Adoption Story

I am still in awe of how abundantly my husband Tom and I have been blessed. Like country music star Garth Brooks states so well in one of his songs, “I thank God for unanswered prayers”. For years we prayed so hard to conceive a child. We could not even begin to have known how much more joy God’s plan for us would bring.

Early years of marriage: waiting for a child

Tom and I met during our freshmen year of college so we knew each other fairly well when we married a year after college. At the time of our marriage, we were aware that my medical history of severe endometriosis might make conception difficult. (Endometriosis is a common health problem in women in which the tissue that lines the uterus grows outside of the uterus and on other organs of the body.) We were lucky in that we had the opportunity to discuss this before marriage as well as the fact that adoption was an option that we were both comfortable exploring. But it didn’t make pregnancy announcements from friends and family any less difficult as we clung to the hope of conception for five years.

One of the most challenging part of those years of trying to conceive was attempting to navigate the world of fertility treatments and their moral implications. At that time we had only a vague sense that most fertility treatments were in opposition to the Church’s moral teachings. (We have only in recent years come to understand the richness and beauty of the Church’s wisdom on this. [1]) Nonetheless, we stayed true to Church teaching and began exploring adoption.

Beginning the adoption process

For at least a year, we attended multiple information sessions of state run adoption programs, private agency programs, and even met with an adoption consultant. Because we desired a newborn baby, we ruled out international programs and chose to pursue private domestic (within the US) adoption. Most children adopted from overseas are older than infancy.

I was in graduate school in Boston at the time and had a faculty member who had just adopted a baby. I set up a meeting with the same private agency that she used and we quickly compiled the vast ream of paperwork that the agency required. (By the end of this process, I think that the agency knew more about us than our own parents did!)

Our application was submitted in January 2000. We then began a series of home study meetings with the agency. Contrary to popular media’s portrayal of these meetings as involving a stern looking woman entering your home for a white-glove inspection, nothing could be further from the truth. The social workers that we met with were partially there to assess our motives and suitability to become adoptive parents. At the same time, their goal was also to try to help prepare us for the process, experiences, and possibly even challenges that adoption could bring to our lives.

Receiving the call

Although the matching process can vary by agency, these days, many private agencies give the birthparents the opportunity to select their baby’s adoptive parents. So we prepared a photo album that gave a sense of who we were and we wrote a letter to the birthparents to be included in the album. The agency then forwarded albums to the birthparents so they could choose an adoptive family for their child. I can only speculate, but I think that getting the call from an agency saying you’ve been selected by birthparents and the match has been made is somewhat synonymous to getting the much coveted call from the doctor’s office saying that your blood test was indeed positive for a pregnancy. From this point, the little girl whose birthmother had chosen us to adopt her child was, in our minds and hearts, fully our child. There is a saying that a biological child grows in the mother’s tummy but an adopted child grows in the parents’ hearts. Nothing could be more true.

In August 2000, our first child, Katie was born. Unlike many couples who are blessed with a more direct path to parenthood, we took nothing for granted with our blessing. We “fought” for our turn to change her diaper (weird, huh?), feed her, and hold her.

Adopting again

In May 2002, Tom had a new job and we were preparing to move to another part of the state. Katie and I were having breakfast with a friend who asked if we were planning to adopt again. It seemed like a crazy time to proceed since we were trying to sell one house and were in the middle of building a new one. Her questions seemed to light a fire in me though, and I became a woman on a mission. The details fell easily into place (despite the fact that we had to change adoption agencies) and by June 2002, we had submitted our second adoption application. Even though we had so much on our plates with a toddler, a move, and an impending adoption, I felt a profound peace from that day in May straight through to the day in January, 2003 when we were blessed with the birth of our second daughter, Meaghan. (I was even fortunate enough to be at the birth!) Meaghan was born in Georgia, which required a two week stay as we waited for the legalities of the adoption process to be finalized. Gratefully, we were blessed with mild Georgia weather while our home state was buried in snow and a record-breaking cold spell.

A boy and a girl!

In December 2004, we submitted our third application for adoption. The process was uneventful and much easier by the third time. Katie was four years old at this point and whenever we asked her if she thought this third child would be a boy or girl, she confidently replied “Both!” We would soon discover that she must have had a direct line to God. Our son, Andrew, was born in Ohio in September 2005. Once again, we remained in Ohio for a couple of weeks as we awaited the legal process.

The day after we returned home, I was sorting through a box of baby clothes (and putting away the pinks and purples), when I was moved with a profound longing for another little girl. Now, mind you, I was thrilled to have Andrew in our life. He was a sweet and easy little baby. So, I was befuddled why my heart felt this so keenly. One week later, I had my answer.

When Andrew was only three weeks old, the adoption agency that we worked with to adopt Katie called to inform us that Katie’s birthmother was pregnant again and wanted to know if we would be interested in adopting this child who was due in four months. I suddenly understood my strangely timed interior longing for another girl and chuckled as I reflected on Katie’s childlike prophesy of “a boy and a girl.” I knew, without a moment’s hesitation, scared as I was by the situation, that this was God’s plan for our family. Molly was born in January 2006, and once again I was blessed to be present at the birth.

Life as an adoptive family

Almost eight years after the birth of my fourth child, I rarely think about the fact that these are adopted children. I just know that they are “our children”. They know that they are adopted and it comes up periodically in conversations. They just started at a new school and were commenting on how people often don’t believe them when they say that they were adopted. Minimally, we reflect on it at that point each year around their birthdays when we send letters and photos to their birthparents (via the agency). Otherwise, at this point we have no direct contact with the birthparents. I have no doubt that at some point, some or maybe even all of our children will seek out a meeting with their birthparents. When that time comes, and they are of the appropriate age and maturity to do so, Tom and I will stand by them and support them in this process of self-understanding.

There are times when something like completing parental health history on their medical forms call to mind that they are adopted. There are also the occasional school projects about the students’ ethnicity that creep up. Otherwise, we chuckle on the many occasions when Tom or I have been told how much our children look just like us!

I would be misleading you if I told you that it was all easy. The adoption application process, at times, felt profoundly invasive. But if you talk with many new mothers, I think they might describe the birthing process as rather invasive. There are some challenges that are unique to adoptive mothers and fathers. It is difficult to explain to adopted children that just because they were “given up” for adoption, it does not mean that they were not “wanted”. (The term used more widely now is “placed for adoption,” which helps highlight the selfless generosity of birthparents in choosing an adoptive family for their child.) When we reflect on our children’s future weddings, we understand that there is a remote possibility that we might have to share the “parent pew” with their biological parents. Then we remember that these four little blessings were only given to us to “borrow” for a short period of time, but they don’t belong to us, or to their biological parents. They belong to God.

About the author
MaryPat and her husband Tom, shown above with their children, have been happily married for 20 years, regardless of the fact that they have very few common interests – except for God and family – proving that opposites really do attract! MaryPat worked in college admissions and as a high school guidance counselor until she became the full-time mother of four adopted and much beloved children. With all four children now enrolled in school, MaryPat has begun working with families as an Independent Educational Consultant through her new business, Compass College Advisors. Tom is employed in the banking industry and spends his time sharing his deep love of the Catholic faith with anyone willing to listen. They reside in the Archdiocese of Boston.

Notes
[1] See USCCB document about infertility and ethical reproductive treatments: “Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology” (2009).

A Special Family: Shaped by Down Syndrome, Grief and Grace

By the time our son Stephen turned seven, we were hoping to adopt another child. To our three birth children, Guy (8), Stephen (7), and Matthew (5), we had already added David (3) and Danny, whose Down syndrome no longer seemed remarkable. He had passed the ripe old age of one and, although he was developing more slowly than our four older boys, he was making strides at his own pace. Other than a small PDA (a patent ductus arteriosusa or small hole in his heart) and the croup which scared us all half to death, he was in good shape physically. (The hole eventually closed, and he outgrew the croup, thank God!) Except for the time I fed him too many carrots and turned his skin orange, we were doing a pretty good job of parenting. Danny had grown into being just another member of the family, and we felt that we could care for one more baby with special needs. Down syndrome did not seem like a disability. It was a challenge which early intervention services helped us to meet.

The following spring, we met John Francis in The New York Foundling Hospital. He was four months old. The first time I held him, he looked up at me and smiled. (I refuse to believe it was gas!) I was a sucker for cute babies, and his little face won me over. Like Danny, John Francis had a small PDA. This was not an issue, but the colostomy bag attached to his little abdomen did present some problems. I had to learn to care for it before The Foundling would release him to us, and that made me nervous. But he had that adorable little smile and I soon managed to clean out his bag, “like a pro,” one of the nurses said, as though his guardian angel was guiding my hands. Looking back now, I think perhaps he was!

Our first night at home, I had a slippery little mess on my unskilled hands. I think that was the only time I wondered about the wisdom of our decision! My sister, who was present for my struggles and frustrations, suggested that I use a meat baster to flush out his little bag. That solved my biggest problem and I continued to use that baster until his colostomy was reversed by the time he was two.

The other boys did not like the idea of the colostomy bag, although it was covered up and soon became a non-issue. They were also against us naming the baby “Francis.” They thought the kids in the neighborhood would make fun of him. I had to laugh at that. Here was this little Chinese baby with Down syndrome and a colostomy bag and they were worried about kids making fun of his name! But we compromised on that, and named him John Francis instead. To my knowledge no one has ever made fun of him or of his name!

After his slippery beginning, John Francis found himself the littlest child in a busy household. We had decided, even before adopting Danny, that our family life would not change because of the addition of children with special needs. We went to Church, took them all to McDonald’s, went shopping and on vacation. Other than toting more luggage, along with the usual baby paraphernalia plus that necessary baster, we managed. My husband took the older boys to their sporting practices and events. I stayed home with the little ones, and joined him when I could. We were a typical family, busy in the chaos of everyday life.

Russo 2 children

All of the boys got along, but Stephen took a special interest in John Francis. They were “roomies” and Stephen seemed happiest when he was holding the baby in the crook of his arm. I can still see the look of pure joy on his face as he went about the house toting John Francis with him. They went to bed and crib, as usual, on the night of February 12, 1990, but Stephen came out of his room about 10 p.m. in distress. He had a terrible headache and could not sleep. I gave him some pain reliever and put him back to bed. I could soon see that this was not an ordinary headache. We called for an ambulance and, by 3 a.m. the following morning, Stephen was dead. His undetected brain aneurism had burst suddenly, without any warning. That is what made us a “special family”: grief, not Down syndrome.

A family does not get over the death of a child. As time went on, we began to function again, but it was very difficult. The older boys mourned Stephen quietly, and my husband, Tony, sank into a deep depression. The laundry did not stop, the house did not stay clean, and the meals did not cook themselves. I managed to get through some very difficult days bearing the brunt of a loss which nearly paralyzed us all. Losing Stephen was the greatest challenge of our lives.

I knew that, in order for me to heal, I had to give myself over to something greater than my loss. It seems incredible to me now that my husband, Tony, went along with my desire to find another baby, but he did. We began to actively pursue another adoption and were led back to The New York Foundling Hospital the following year.

A baby girl with Down syndrome had been born in January of 1991. She had a large hole in her heart and lay, we were told, like a little blue doll. The agency did not want us to meet her until after her surgery. They were afraid she might not survive, and did not want us to face what would be another devastating loss. A lot of prayers were sent up to heaven during the next few months! After the surgery, we were finally called in to meet her.

Now this little bundle was a challenge of a different sort! She had not developed the ability to suck and swallow. On the positive side, her heart had healed well and her prognosis was good. I faced the daunting task of putting a tube down her nose into her tummy four times a day so that she would be able to get the nourishment she needed to thrive. I was to do that after I coaxed her to drink from a bottle, something she never quite mastered. I did not know if I was up to this task, this risk of giving our hearts to another child, at all.

After we met Maria Grace, I went to church. By then Stephen had been gone a year and a half. While sitting in the back of my parish church, I looked up at the altar, praying for guidance. There, my soul very clearly saw Stephen, holding a little baby out to me in his outstretched arms. It was as if he were offering me the gift of life. How could I reject it?

Again, angel hands seemed to guide my own as I learned to feed Maria Grace. We brought her home by the end of that week, another China doll, when she was seven months old and weighed less than eleven pounds. Matthew, our youngest birth son, had taken over Stephen’s place as “roomie” and chief holder of John Francis. I was able to devote my time to the baby’s careRusso 3 children resized

Our children are now grown. Our oldest son, Guy, works in a school with a boy who has Autism. He hopes to teach full time in September. Matthew worked in a Day Program with adults with special needs for three years and is looking forward to teaching Social Studies in the fall. David was a “Buddy” with United Cerebral Palsy and also “buddied” while he served in the army. He will graduate from college this May. Danny and John Francis both go to work daily in Hub Sites, gathering places from which adults with special needs go out to serve as volunteers in the community. Maria Grace also volunteers at a Hub Site. This only daughter of mine has grown into a confident 23-year-old who has the ability to keep us all in our places. Even the dogs! Down syndrome has not been a disability for us. It has been, instead, the lens through which we, my husband and I and all of our children, have learned to love each other. You can see our story on YouTube at “What to Expect When You’re Expecting a Baby with Down Syndrome”. I hope that the smiling faces it contains suggest that Down syndrome is a gift, like life itself.

How has it been raising a family in which three members have Down syndrome? It has been a gift to treasure – and to share!

An Adoption Love Story

Note: Adoption is a wonderful gift. Though sometimes portrayed in negative ways by the media, most experiences of adoption are beautiful love stories—such as the one Jenny* shares below.

My husband Bill and I have been married for six years. Having children and raising a family had always been our expectation. By the time we were married, most of our siblings and friends already had children, so of course we were excited and ready to be parents ourselves. We soon learned, however, that having children of our own might not be so easy.

We made a few trips to multiple cities to be treated by wonderful doctors who have helped so many couples conceive, but everything we tried was unsuccessful. We felt so hopeless at times. Words can’t even explain this experience of loss.

Fortunately, our marriage only grew stronger, because we were there for each other and continued to rely on God. This didn’t always come easily, but it helped that Bill has a great sense of humor, and we were able to laugh at some of the crazy situations and conversations that come with infertility.

Since we knew our chances of becoming pregnant were small, it wasn’t very long before we started talking about the possibility of adoption. However, it wasn’t an easy decision, and I wondered if my heart was big enough to love an adopted child as I would my biological child. There were also so many other variables to consider, one of which was the expense involved, and we had already spent so much money on infertility treatments. We felt we had no control, but God reminded us again that He is always in control and that we could trust in Him.

So with prayerful discernment, we decided to start the process of adopting a child from Ethiopia. However, after it took nearly a year to get on the waiting list, the adoption program was put on hold for reasons that were unknown to us.

We were so frustrated that we started to feel as though maybe we just weren’t called to have children. We then heard from friends who had adopted a newborn baby domestically after only a few short months. With this new encouragement, we switched gears and decided to adopt domestically, picking a nationwide agency rather than a state agency because it is usually faster.

We were so excited but also rather scared. We would be chosen by a birthmother and would be required to send pictures and letters to her frequently. Most likely, we would talk with the birthmother over the phone and meet her at the delivery. And there was always the chance she could change her mind, even days after the birth. I didn’t know how I would feel about all this and wondered if we were setting ourselves up for more heartbreak. But all we could do was pray and try to leave it in God’s hands.

Four months later, we received a call that a birthmother in Florida had chosen us. She was seven months pregnant with a boy. We couldn’t believe it. We were finally going to have a baby. We talked with her a couple of times over the phone, and I never realized until then how lucky I was to marry such a talker, as Bill really helped the conversations flow smoothly.

On the birthmother’s due date, we received the call that she was in labor. Bill and I dropped everything and hit the road to Florida to meet our son. Words can’t even describe how we felt during that drive. We were so excited at the thought that we could be driving home with our son, yet at the same time we were so scared that we may be driving home alone. I wasn’t sure we could handle that disappointment, and I wondered what she would think of us. Would she regret that she chose us? What would I say to the woman who was going to place her child with us? Along with these and all the normal fears of becoming a parent, I was also afraid that I wouldn’t bond with our new son or feel that he was ours.

After arriving, we met the birthmother who was still in labor. She was so sweet and personable, and we sat with her to support her as best we could. A few hours later, our son Andrew was born. It was the most surreal experience.

We spent the next day and a half with Andrew and his birthmother in the hospital getting to know each other a bit. It was hard to know what to say to her, knowing she was making the hardest decision of her life, knowing the pain she must be experiencing, and feeling that I was the one causing this pain. It was such an emotional roller coaster to hold and look at this precious baby, wondering if I would really be his mother.

Thankfully, the birthmother decided to maintain her decision to place her child with us. Later that evening, Christmas Eve, Bill and I left the hospital with Andrew. It didn’t take long before there was no doubt in our minds that he was our son, the greatest gift from God! He really is our Christmas miracle.

Andrew is two years old now, and it is so clear to Bill and me that God picked him for us. We can’t imagine loving a child whom we conceived more than we love Andrew. It is amazing how he fits our personalities so well. More and more every day we are so thankful to his birthmother for her selfless decision.

It is so hard to express in words what a unique experience adoption has been for us. It has been quite a journey facing infertility, as well as so many unknowns and acts of kindness and sacrifice—all with so many emotions—which led to the growth of our family. There were times when our faith was shaken and we weren’t sure if we could handle our cross. But adopting Andrew has made us more aware of God’s power and of his love for us. We realize that he always has a perfect plan for our lives.

About the authors
Jenny and Bill (all names have been changed for privacy) would like to encourage you be open to the gift of adoption. Is God calling you to consider adopting a child or placing your child for adoption? To learn more information, contact your diocesan office.

Reprinted from Respect Life Program, Copyright © 2014, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Washington, D.C. All rights reserved. Additional resources and ordering information is available at https://www.respectlife.org/adoption-love-story.

Children as Commodities?

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. This is your pilot speaking. … I have two pieces of news to report, one good and one bad. The bad news is that we are lost. The good news is that we are making excellent time.” —Author Unknown

In 1971, the renowned physician and medical ethicist, Dr. Leon Kass, used this parable to illustrate the coming wave of assisted reproductive technologies, hailed by science as a final triumph over infertility; scientists were on the verge of creating children outside the womb and inside the laboratory. Dr. Kass feared that we had not given adequate consideration to the question of how this might affect the couples pursuing these methods and the children produced from them. Forty years later, we’re just beginning to understand the consequences of such technologies.

Consider Natalie,* a thirty-year-old woman living in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area. Throughout her childhood and adolescent years, she suffered from depression and endured severe adjustment difficulties, feeling as if she never truly belonged in her family. When she was seventeen years old, she discovered that she was conceived through a process known as commercial surrogacy. Natalie’s parents had contracted with another woman to become pregnant using her father’s sperm and the woman’s own egg, bear her for nine months in her womb, and then hand her over to them. After questioning why her parents lied to her, Natalie became estranged from them, hurt that money, rather than the expression of marital love, was the context in which she was brought into the world.

Now consider Amy, who was eight years old when her parents told her they would be divorcing. Her father attempted to gain custody of her older sister, but not her. The reason? Amy was conceived via an anonymous sperm donation, and her father was not interested in maintaining a relationship with a child who was not biologically his offspring. Such a scenario highlights the many complexities of donor conception, by which a child is intentionally severed from his or her biological parents with little consideration of the long-term consequences of such a decision.

These true stories represent the sad realities often faced both by those who choose to pursue assisted reproductive technologies and by children conceived through them. Unfortunately, when couples face the heartbreaking challenge of infertility, they may not know where else to turn.

When couples are unable to bear children, very often there is an understandable feeling of great loss. It is essential to note that “the Church has compassion for couples suffering from infertility and wants to be of real help to them. At the same time, some ‘reproductive technologies’ are not morally legitimate ways to solve those problems.”(1) No doubt, those who are tempted to avail themselves of such technologies almost always plan to accept and cherish the child to be conceived in this manner. Nevertheless, the child is brought into existence through a technological process and not through a loving act of marital intercourse. The inevitable result is that the child is initially treated as an object created for the parents’ self-fulfillment instead of welcomed as a gift of God.

Since the advent in 1978 of IVF (in vitro fertilization), by which children are “conceived” by technicians working in labs, the floodgates have been opened to bringing about reproduction through egg and sperm donation and surrogate pregnancies. Yet these technologies are fraught with medical, legal, and moral complications that are often either unknown or too easily dismissed.

What many people don’t realize is that, in addition to the financial burden, assisted reproductive technologies can also present significant health risks. A February 2014 analysis in the British Medical Journal found that women who use IVF are more likely to suffer “gestational diabetes, fetal growth restriction, pre-eclampsia, and premature birth.”(2) Children conceived through IVF are likely to have higher blood pressure, vascular difficulties and other health problems.(3) Moreover, IVF and surrogacy subject women to grueling rounds of hormones, shots, and painful procedures with minimal chances of success. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the overall failure rate of IVF in the United States is nearly seventy percent.(4)

Yet the demand for “designer babies” and the commercialization of childbearing continues to increase. Parents who are spending tens of thousands of dollars to conceive children now have the option of picking the “best” sperm or egg to maximize their investment. However, “children are not parents’ possessions to manufacture, manipulate, or design; rather, they are fellow persons with full human dignity, and parents are called to accept, care for, and raise them to be new members of God’s family and his Kingdom. Children deserve to be ‘begotten, not made.’”(5) In other words, children have the right to be conceived within the context of an act of marital love, not created in a laboratory by scientists.

How then do we best respond to couples struggling with infertility? First, we must acknowledge their pain and accompany them in their suffering. Second, we should offer them opportunities to continue exploring the possibility of parenthood. Many causes of infertility can be addressed through medical assistance that is fully in accord with Catholic teaching. Adoption is also a viable alternative for couples seeking to raise children, as it lovingly serves children who urgently need homes and families to love and care for them. For couples who choose not to pursue these options, their active service in ministries and communities where they are needed should be better welcomed.

As Pope St. John Paul II reminded us, “It must not be forgotten … that, even when procreation is not possible, conjugal life does not for this reason lose its value. Physical sterility in fact can be for spouses the occasion for other important services to the life of the human person.”(6) While infertility may be a profoundly painful process for many, the Church calls the couple to consider that this experience may ultimately lead to new ways of experiencing God’s love and plan for their love to be life-giving in other ways, even if they are unexpected.

The very technologies that some believed would solve the age-old problem of infertility have, in fact, raised more questions than answers—questions about the meaning and purposes of children, and the limits and detriments of technology when it intervenes in the most intimate of human relationships. Children, after all, are meant to serve as an outgrowth of a couple’s love, but instead, reproductive technologies reduce that gift to a product. To ignore the concerns raised by some reproductive technologies and to move forward with them anyway would be to take matters into our own hands and to act against this great design. So instead, “in love, hope, and prayer, … let us be open to God’s gift of life and love in marriage, with profound respect for the dignity of all God’s children.”(7)

*Names have been changed to protect the privacy of those mentioned. To learn more about the Church’s teachings on the morality of reproductive technologies, visit “Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology” at www.usccb.org/beliefs-and-teachings/what-webelieve/love-and-sexuality/life-giving-love-in-an-age-oftechnology.cfm.

Notes

[1] U.S. Catholic Bishops, Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology, (USCCB, 2009). http://www.usccb.org/beliefs-and-teachings/what-we-believe/love-and-sexuality/life-giving-love-in-an-age-of-technology.cfm.
[2] Esme I Kamphuis, S Bhattacharya, F van der Veen, professor, B W J Mol, A Templeton, “Are We Overusing IVF?” British Medical Journal (2014). http://www.bmj.com/content/348/bmj.g252.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, American Society for Reproductive Medicine, Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology, 2010 Assisted Reproductive Technology Fertility Clinic Success Rates Report (Atlanta: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, 2012). http://www.cdc.gov/art/ART2010/PDFs/ART_2010_Clinic_Report-Full.pdf.
[5] U.S. Catholic Bishops, Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology.
[6] Pope St. John Paul II, On the Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World: Familiaris Consortio (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1981), no. 14.
[7] U.S. Catholic Bishops, Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology.
* Excerpt from Familiaris Consortio (On the Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World). © 1981 Libreria Editrice Vaticana. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

Reprinted from Respect Life Program, Copyright © 2014, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Washington, D.C. All rights reserved. Additional resources and ordering information is available at www.usccb.org/respectlife.

The Family in Service of Life: An Adoption Story

Early married years

We were married on June 7, 1997. Three months later, we moved into our first home, an 1800 square foot historic house in Staunton, Virginia, a city of about 25,000 located in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley. It had four bedrooms – perfect for our plans of beginning a family. Rob was working as a youth minister and part-time high school teacher and Robin was the second grade teacher in the same Catholic school as Rob. In arranging our house, we thought that it was important to keep one room set aside as a perpetual guest room, open to receive whomever Our Lord might send to us. We felt that this was a room that should be preserved as such even when we began having our own children. Little did we know how abundant God’s plans would be.

After three years of marriage, it became clear to us that we were not able to have children. Several doctors could not find any obvious biological problems. We saw fertility specialists who finally said that the only hope for conception was in vitro fertilization – an option we were not willing to consider. We wanted the gift of children, but we did not want to manipulate and attempt to force a gift that Our Lord was not going to give us willingly.

Three children in a row

Then came the rush. Some friends of ours were on the board of the local foster unit of the Department of Social Services (DSS). They had a five-month old baby boy in their care who would eventually be free for adoption, once the parental rights had been terminated. But before they asked if we were willing to take in the baby, they warned us: the previous two families who were offered this child turned him down because of the extensive intestinal and brain damage he had suffered as a result of his birth mother’s illegal drug use. They thought he would likely not talk, not walk, and may eventually end up institutionalized. On April 21, 2000, Christopher was brought to our home. We never looked back.

In late June, we were approached again. This time, there were two little girls, five years old and nine months old. Would we be willing to accept them as likely adoptive children? Of course! So on July 8, less than three months after Christopher came to us, we were joined by Lisa and Lorianne. Our permanent guest rooms were now full, and we began to look for a larger home. In the meantime, Rob moved to a full-time teacher position at the school and Robin took a year off, providing after school care in our home as she began the all-important role of being mother to our three new children.

Another baby in need of a family

We did eventually move around the corner to an old Victorian house, giving us more space. For two years we continued raising our awesome children and doing our best to form them in the ways of the Church. In July of 2002, DSS called again. This time, they had an eleven-month old baby, the youngest of three who were removed from their family. They were expecting that after 3-4 months, the children would be placed back with their birth parents, once things had settled down. Samantha came to us unable to crawl, speak, make facial expressions, hold herself up, or even reach for things. Her initial doctor visit suggested that she might be paralyzed from the waist down, since she did not respond to any stimuli there. Her two other sisters, Shelby and Sabrina, were placed with another foster family. DSS did not want to place all three with us because they were concerned about the level of care that Samantha would require. All three girls had spent their days locked in a storage facility while their parents went to work. They were fed apple juice and Twinkies. Samantha just had apple juice and had lost weight since her eight-month checkup. We could see her bones, she was so thin.

Two more makes six

The next two years brought with them quite a trial. It was during that time that Christopher’s birth parents’ parental rights were terminated through a series of lengthy court hearings. Likewise, the legal process for Lisa and Lorianne came to a close. This allowed us to have the three kids baptized. Up until that time, we were not the permanent parents of them. Therefore, we could not reasonably promise (as is required at an infant baptism) to raise the children Catholic. Only after the adoption was finalized, were there no longer any obstacles to the responsibilities of Baptism. During these two years, it also became more and more evident that Samantha’s birth parents were not able to care for their children. The goal changed from returning the girls to their biological parents to moving them to a permanent placement. That permanent placement was with us. In the summer of 2004, then, our family welcomed Shelby and Sabrina, bringing us to a total of six children. Two years later, feeling a call to move to Robin’s hometown and wanting to start over as a forever family, we moved to Omaha, Nebraska. As we write this article, Lisa (18) is a freshman in college. Lorianne (14), Shelby (13), and Sabrina (12) attend a Catholic school here in Omaha. Christopher (13) and Samantha (11) attend a Catholic special needs school in town. Rob is actually the principal of this school, and Robin works for the Family Life Office of the Archdiocese of Omaha.

Lessons from adoption: difficulties and blessings

Along the way, we have had some trials and some great joys. One question we decided to settle very early on was about communicating the facts of their adoption to our children. From the time they entered our home, they knew that we were their “forever parents” (adoptive parents) and they came from their birth parents. We worked hard to make it clear that their birth parents loved them, but were not able to care for them. We taught them that God brings tremendous good out of bad situations, and that is how we became a family: a family that God put together from painful situations, a family called to bring healing and joy to one another and everyone we meet. As the kids would age, we disclosed more and more information about their previous situations to the extent that they could understand. About twice a year we do Google searches for their birth parents. Twice, these searches revealed deaths: Christopher’s birth mother had committed suicide in an overdose, and Samantha, Sabrina, and Shelby’s birth mother had died of an illness. We told our children and worked through the grief and conflicting emotions with them. We have remained very open about their respective situations. At first, we had a fear that if we told our children too much, perhaps they would want their birth parents instead of us. This fear faded over the years, as the love and trust in our family deepened.

The difficulties that come from adopting out of foster care are certainly present. When children are ripped from their birth parents (even if the birth parents are not doing their job well), they are hurt in the process. There is no doubt about it. That pain enters into the adoptive family, and God is calling on the new family to be the method of healing. For us, this meant helping our children deal with permanent brain damage, severe learning difficulties, epilepsy, attachment issues, major depression, and even suicide attempts. If you would have asked us back in 1997 if were ready for all that, we would have said, “No way!” But Our Lord provided the grace, the people to help, and the love to bring healing not only to our children, but to us as a couple as well.

The joys of adopting, however, far outweigh any difficulties. These joys are no different, perhaps, than any other family who gave birth to their children. We will say, though, that our children, maybe because of their origin and adoptions, have a tremendous heart for anyone who is downtrodden, suffering, or poor in any way. They are very quick to reach out and want to help those in need – those who stand in the same position they once stood. Seeing this is for us one of the greatest joys of adopting: our own children seeking to show the generosity that they were shown.

The family is called to serve life

In his apostolic exhortation Familiaris Consortio (The Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World), Bl. Pope John Paul II named “serving life” as the second of four tasks of the family. God did not give the Lairds the ability to serve life through procreation and birth. Instead, He gave us the gift of serving the lives of those children He placed before us, and we are ever grateful for this gift. It has created our family and has transformed us as persons.

For families considering adoption, we have this to say: If Our Lord places the desire in your hearts, then go for it! All the difficulties begin to fade away when your brain damaged son throws a touchdown pass in the Special Olympics, or your daughters give money for less fortunate classmates to buy snacks after school, or your oldest daughter seeks a profession to help those who struggle to overcome the difficulties she once faced. Our family is not perfect, far from it. But in the end, the family that God put together has helped each of us follow Him more closely. And isn’t that the mission of the family?

About the authors
Rob and Robin Laird, pictured above with their children, were married on June 7, 1997. Rob is the Principal of Madonna School, a Catholic school serving students with special needs, and Robin is the Coordinator of Marriage and Family Ministries for the Archdiocese of Omaha. They currently reside in Omaha, Nebraska with their six children, Lisa, Lorianne, Christopher, Shelby, Sabrina, and Samantha.