“Sorry, Mrs. Smith” — Looking Beyond The Story

We promised you a follow-up to the post “Sorry, Mrs. Smith” and here it is. This post is composed by both of us: Mei-Ling, who is the adoptee in the original story, and Cedar.

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Cedar:

I began reading Mei-Ling’s first two blogs sometime in 2008. The story of her journey, an international adoptee discovering her heritage, was compelling; and the way she “wrote from the heart” eloquently expressed the challenges she faced.

In telling the story of how her parents had lost her to adoption, it seemed to me though that sometimes readers would dismiss or gloss-over her words, not comprehending some of the salient aspects of her story, and I began wondering: What was it that kept some people from understanding? Were some people having trouble relating to a family in another culture? I began writing “Sorry Mrs. Smith” with a hope: To tell Mei-Ling’s story in a fictional modern setting that native English-speaking readers might identify with, to perhaps further expose the coercion and lies such that more readers might understand, describing events as if the reader was in the same room.

I sent Mei-Ling a draft, asking for her opinion, and we corresponded back and forth for a few days, refining and correcting the story.

The new fictional account had different names, a different culture, and I put her adoptive father’s words into an agency-worker’s mouth, to further protect her privacy.

We expected discussion, but I admit we were a bit surprised by the amount of outright disbelief that something like this could happen in any country or at any time. There were some readers, especially on Cafemom, who missed the point of the story altogether. One person even somehow concluded that it was a critique of the U.S. health insurance system! Another accused us of making the story more “sensationalist” or “dramatic.” I think you will see by Mei-Ling’s account below, that there was nothing we overdramatized. The actual events were likely quite similar, with the exception of the cultural details we changed.

I will leave it to Mei-Ling to relate “the story behind the story,” but remember, although this story may have happened 22 years ago, coercion still continues today. The agency, Christian Salvation Services, still exists today. You can read their marketing materials:

“CSS provides the funds for life support and other necessary medical care for premature babies or infants with special needs. Often, parents of premature or handicapped infants are unable or unwilling to accept this responsibility and refuse to authorize necessary medical treatment… By intervening on behalf of these babies,this program has changed the lives of hundreds of babies. After the babies are stabilized and have received all necessary medical treatment, they enter the CSS Baby Nursery … Through our international adoption placement program, these infants can be adopted by loving Christian families.”

So, according to CSS, being “unable” to pay is equated with “refusing” to authorize medical treatment they cannot afford. Loving parents are stigmatized as having “abandoned” their babies. Is this how Mei-Ling was ‘”saved”?

- Cedar

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Mei-Ling:

In general, what do you think of the comments made about the blog entry?

They were very interesting to watch. Many of them believed this was a horrible thing that happened. Some presented outright skepticism that due to the domestic setting of the alleged story; for example, how could medical care have been denied? In my opinion, our attempt to make the story more modernized and in a familiar domestic setting that white adoptive parents could relate to may have actually been a huge disadvantage in making the story sound believable, as health care is radically different compared to 2^nd or 3^rd world countries.

What comments in particular did you like or dislike?

I have been following the discussions on Facebook, CafeMom and Cedar’s blog for some time. As part of this back-story, Cedar thought it would be a good idea for me to expand on what my thoughts were regarding the comments. It’s always very intriguing to witness such a personal story and the reactions that come from people who don’t “know” who you are [online]. Some of the commenters were able to figure it out from the hints, but quite a few hadn’t known.

Those of you who were already familiar with my story and recognized it, thank you so much for your support. Many of the encouraging comments describing how horrible this was (my TW parents not having enough money) perhaps can lead to a better overall understanding of why my personal adoption blog posts have an underlying current of sadness and grief to them and my mixed emotions towards both sets of parents. The circumstance that caused this may be perceived as “simple” to some, but the aftermath, eventual search & reunion became far more complicated than I ever imagined. I have revealed my story to show the Western perspective in terms of adoption privilege towards the Eastern economic and adoption ethics.

There were a few comments which irritated me, but given that we had decided on the familiarity of a domestic setting, I can see how people became confused. Reading things such as “If the parents wanted to keep their child, they would have found a way” honestly stung. Other comments like “Guess their child didn’t matter that much otherwise they would have tried harder – I’d do anything for my child” also stung. I realize that the domestic setting may have led some people to think the story itself was fabricated for pity… but even so, the intention and obvious implication of “they would have found a way” indicates that my parents were “less than” since it implies that if my parents had “cared enough”, they would have found a way. However understandable the confusion was, such comments allow people to imply my parents did not care enough, and that hurt to read.

Sometimes even knowing that the story is not actually domestic is still enough to “allow” people to assume the worst of my original family [since they still relinquished me]. There are some people in real life who do know the basics of my adoption story. I have had a few people in real life tell me directly – face to face – that if my parents had really wanted to keep me, they would have found a way. They tell me that if my mother had really loved me enough, she would have found a way to keep me.

I was not abandoned. I was not unloved. I was not unwanted, nor rejected. I really wish people would stop believing that so easily under the label of “adoption.”

Those types of comments are indicative of first-world privilege and deliberate ignorance of the 2^nd-world economy.

~

This is the first time I have officially written out what happened. My purpose was to remain objective so you won’t find me commenting on the personal details much. Rather, this is a relayed combination of many aspects and chat log memories with my sister, my narration of the story as I have been told [by my adoptive parents], and my attempt to be as neutral as possible regarding all cultural and adoptive aspects. While later paragraphs indicate I do have a “position” as to how I have viewed my own adoption, I have taken care to expand and explain this position quite. Please keep in mind that any speculation on what my original mother may have believed at the time of my adoption is merely that – speculation – based on my sister’s chats and cultural information I have gathered over the past three years.

Note: Due to the language barrier in reunion, I was unable to ask my mother many questions about my birth, the agency or the orphanage. I did confirm that the motorcycle accident was true. Even when directly asking her the term for “motorcycle accident”, she seemed reluctant to speak about it. Perhaps it was too painful for her to want to discuss. The following background is knowledge I have attained from my adoption files, my adoptive mother’s perspective, my translator who patiently explained the health care system back in 1987, and my sister’s relayed translations from my mother.

Cultural Note: Baba means “father” and Mama means “mother.” In speech, Taiwanese people frequently refer to themselves in the third person, even when talking to family or about family. (Eg. My Baba would often say to me, “Baba and Mama want you to come back to Taiwan again to see us.”)

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My name was legally Huang Mei-Ling for the first seven months of my life. I was the second child, a planned female infant. My mother had already been married and was raising a son who at the time was only 5 years old.

Then, at the end of July in 1987, my mother was involved in a motorcycle collision on her way to work.

Due to the severity of the accident, I was born 11 weeks premature.

My mother told me (relayed through my subsequently kept sister) that I was not breathing. She immediately drove me to the nearest hospital and then I was placed into the incubator. This hospital, called Tseng Hui-Kun, was connected with the adoption agency called Christian Salvation Services. This agency was actually networked with several hospitals in Taiwan and worked with these hospitals in order to provide part of the medical expense taxes for medical care that the parents could not possibly hope to afford. In fact, they set up contracts for the purpose of providing the pre-hospital expense taxes while searching for prospective parents who could cover the actual procedures.

My liver was not functioning properly; I needed blood transfusions. Because I was born so prematurely, the oxygen supplied in the incubator actually ruined my eyes as they were undeveloped. My adoptive mother has told me my condition was so severe that the hospital staff did not think I would live – even with the payment procedure assisting my life support. Around this timeframe, my then prospective parents were seeking out an adoption agency which could assist them with the adoption of an Asian child. They eventually came across the Christian Salvation Services and the social worker who spoke with them told them that I would be “available” for adoption IF the surgical procedure saved my life and IF they were willing to pay.

I quote my adoptive mother here: “[The social worker] said, ‘We have a female infant who was born prematurely. The doctors do not think she will be able to survive, but if she does and you’re willing to pay the bill, you can have her.’”

And thusly my adoption contract was drawn up between the hospital, my original parents, my then prospective parents, and the agency known as Christian Salvation Services.

~

My [original] mother and father understood what adoption meant, as indicated in the court papers. She knew that once she signed the papers, her parental rights would be lawfully terminated forever. I have not been able to discuss her thoughts regarding my adoption; rather, the only two direct sentiments I was able to understand were the following:

“I hoped you would come back to Taiwan to see Mama and Baba.”

“Did your Canada Mom treat you well?”

When I enquired online about my adoption, my sister relayed [from Mama] the situation at the time of my hospital bill expenses. Even if my mother had attempted to pay the hospital bill, it would have cost her all her assets and her home – and likely more than that. She would have had no money left for the rest of the family to survive. So the only alternative – which was conveniently offered at the hospital shortly after my birth – was the suggestion of adoption. In an alternate scenario where the hospital allowed payments in an increment system, it would have taken my mother several years to pay the bill; however, that was not the case. Seeing as my mother did not have the money nor could she ever hope to work hard or long enough to pay off the bill [in a 2^nd-world economy], there was no choice but to consent on the condition of saving my life.

My total bill was 277,107 NTD. That is equivalent to about $9500.00 USD, since 29 NTD equalled $1 USD (as indicated in my adoption files).

I do not consider that a voluntary relinquishment due to the lack of alternatives and that my mother apparently did not have any assistance, nor did she seem to know of any assistance.

~

In 2006, I had contacted a Taiwanese citizen who was an adoptive parent. She had spent many years growing up in Taiwan and naturally, my curiousity led me to question what she knew of the health care system. I revealed my adoption and the hospital contract, complete with the Christian Salvation Services and the social worker’s words as relayed from my adoptive mother.

1.) Did the hospitals require upfront payment? My adoptive mother says I likely would have died if not for the medical procedure.

Answer: Back then, Taiwan didn’t have the Universal Health care system that it has today, and most hospitals wouldn’t even admit a patient unless a deposit was paid up front. This cash system caused so many family tragedies that brought about the medical system reform and Universal Health care systems in 1995. Under the old system, you could have died if your family couldn’t give direct payment, or your family could have gone into a huge debt that would totally have bankrupted the family.

2.) What would have happened if my then prospective parents had not paid? Would I have been taken off the incubator?

Answer: It was not uncommon for private hospitals to discharge patients as they failed to pay the bills. The patients just went home to wait to die. I also remember reading news articles about people with chronic illness committing suicide, because they didn’t want to be such a financial burden to their families. There were also patients seeking emergency care who died right in front of the hospital, because the hospital refused to admit the patients without upfront cash deposits.

I am not sure how long you were in the incubator, but your parents were probably paying the bills as they went and at some point they just couldn’t raise any more money*. As soon as they stopped paying, the hospital would discharge you & leave it up to your fate. You could have lived or you could have died, but you wouldn’t have died in the hospital so the hospital wouldn’t feel any direct responsibility. They would say that you were just unlucky to be born into a family who couldn’t afford to pay the hospital to keep you alive. It was not likely that you would have found Taiwanese adoptive parents, because you were a baby girl and you came with an existing hospital bill as well as potentially more hospital bills.

*Note: My parents were never able to pay the bills at all. My sister has relayed at the time they did not have any extra money for hospital expenses, and that the incubator payments were approximately 500 yuan a day, which equals to 17 USD.

*Cultural Note: The average Taiwanese citizen in 2009 earns about 520 yuan a day, just under 15 USD. Back in 1987 they probably did not earn as much. However, even if they had paid my incubator bills, they wouldn’t have had any money left to survive. Not to mention there were other medical issues which required more money.

3.) What about an increment system? Was there any way possible that a hospital would have allowed the parents to pay a fee at regular intervals?

Answer: A for-profit private hospital usually would NOT let patients pay their bills in increments later. This hospital would have been considered very “charitable” if they had not asked your parents to pay as they went and even gave them time to raise money and was still treating you at the same time. Most hospitals would have just kicked you out right away.

As a preemie, who knows what other health issues might have come up later that would require even more treatments and hospital bills. Here’s the worst case scenario: if your parents had gone to a loan shark to pay the hospital bills, their life (& yours) would have been living hell. Loan sharks were usually associated with gangsters who charge an unbelievable amount of interest, because the most desperate people would turn to them to borrow at any cost. I have read so many times how some families were stuck with interest that was 100 times more than the amount they initially borrowed!

~

I have spoken with several people about this circumstance in e-mails. Some of the typical responses are:

1. “At least she gave you a chance at life. At least she chose to let someone else adopt you and provide what she could not.”

2. “She could have aborted you. You should be grateful she gave you the chance to live.”

3. “You could have died! Even your [adoptive] mother said so! Be thankful she consented to the contract that saved your life.”

4. “At least she loved you enough to give you a chance at life.”

I’d like to point out a few flaws in those sentiments, however well-intentioned they may seem:

I was a planned baby.

My mother had no intention of aborting me.

How can there be a choice when there are NO alternatives? Is life-or-death REALLY a choice?

There is also the occasional poster who will say something along the lines of, “Well, look at it this way. The parents either felt, or were led to believe they had no other choice. They loved and wanted the very best for their child but were denied any and all help so that they would believe adoption was their only choice.”

My question is: Why are these parents – not just mine, but I’m sure many others in second-world economies – NOT being offered help or suggestions to keep their babies? If they love and want their babies, why is it a problem to find out a way to assist them so they may keep their babies? Why isn’t anyone questioning this?

In Cedar’s original post, she wrote the line:

Twenty-five years later, the young woman opened up the envelope from the agency, containing her adoption papers. Her past was a mystery, hidden in the unknown a world away, born to people she never knew. She unfolded the letter, then read the agency worker’s careful hand-writing: “The child was born premature to a married couple. For reasons of their own they abandoned the baby…”

The agency and social worker did not write that. In fact, this particular line was written in a typed reference to the director of the Christian Salvation Services who was assisting my then prospective parents with the adoption. This line was written and signed by my adoptive father. The first time I sorted through my adoption files, that line sent a chill down my spine. I wondered, “How could someone consciously write that down while recognizing on some fundamental level that it might not necessarily have been true? Is the word adoption that blinding?”

However.

In order to legally process an adoption overseas, the child must be considered a legal orphan. If the parents are alive then the adoption cannot be completed unless the child is considered an orphan or legally abandoned under the law, otherwise it is considered as legal theft or kidnapping. The adoption cannot be processed appropriately if the parents are alive and the adoption staff are aware that the parents wish to keep their child but are unable to do so. From researching my adoption agency online and discussing the adoption system with a staff translator at St. Lucy’s Center in Taiwan, I have concluded that adoption agencies have a required policy to create a legal abandonment so that the process may be finalized. Therefore, I have every reason to believe that despite my father’s handwritten signature on the reference paper, this was merely a legal procedure required by the agency. It was not his doing, but the agency’s policy.

I have often been told that I cannot undo the past. My relinquishment and adoption were finalized years ago, regardless if it was voluntary or not. They are absolutely right; I cannot undo the past. I cannot go back in time and demand to know what people were doing – or thinking – when they organized my reference papers for adoption rather than seeking out other alternatives to assist my parents in keeping me.

My adoptive mother has relayed the following to me:

“The social worker said that your parents wanted to meet us. I thought it would be a one-on-one thing. I spoke to your dad about it and told him that if we had the chance to speak with her – if we saw her – I would place you back in her arms and tell her to keep you. Please believe me, that is exactly what I told your dad and myself.

“We entered the orphanage, but instead of having the adoptive parents meet directly with the women who were relinquishing their babies, these women must have all been in the back, in the shadows, watching as their babies were placed into the arms of the adoptive parents. If I had known who your mother was, I would have placed you back in her arms and told her to keep you. I could have never forgiven myself if I missed that opportunity. But I didn’t know and it wasn’t a one-on-one thing. I just assumed she must have been back there with the other group of women, watching us from a distance, but I just didn’t know. If I had known who she was, I would have given you back to her. Please believe me.”

I do not know if my adoptive mother would have followed through on her word. I have no doubts that becoming a parent must have been overwhelming, yet clashing with the moral obligation and knowledge that a woman who wishes to keep her child should have been able to. Yet, in the moment of truth all those years ago, I present a skeptical view to my adoptive mother’s words – as her moral judgment may have been quite understandably clouded by the exhilaration of finally becoming a parent.

It is not that I do not question her heart. I question her past ability at that time to separate the moral obligation of doing what she would have perceived to be ethical and what she consciously knew on that day or what she did not “see”, further compounded by the joy-grief collision of emotions. This is called cognitive dissonance: believing that what you are doing is morally right based on your own perspective and what you have been told – when, in any usual circumstance, you would not normally believe it to be necessarily true or morally in-line with your own values.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance

I recognize my adoptive mother’s humanity. Her desire to be a parent was no different than my Taiwanese mother’s. Now that I have explored my adoptive mother’s perspective into what went on that day, let me return to my other mother and the issue of cultural obligation.

I hold steady to the belief that my mother’s relinquishment was not voluntary, even if she had been told I would have a “better life” in Canada. It has never been confirmed if she felt this way back in 1987, whether or not she believes she made a decision or if she felt trapped; however cultural obligation comes into heavy play here.

In the hypothetical situation where my adoptive mother had felt inclined enough to speak to a translator that day to give me back, I also wonder if my original mother would have “accepted” me back. Despite the fact that she [Mama] clearly cherished me, I have long suspected she may have felt the cultural obligation to allow my adoptive parents to raise me simply on the basis they paid the bill so that my life could potentially be saved as opposed to some other tragic end that no one [with the means] was willing to take responsibility for.

Perhaps she felt that if she loved me enough, she should give me up to another set of loving parents who wanted very much to adopt me and give me the better life; not only had they saved my would-be Fate from premature death, but since they took the adoption offer, my mother may have felt that she might as well give me a “better” chance at living life anyway.

To summarize: the contract was made to save my life. The adoption part of the deal was the attached “reward.” Two perceived advantages against a huge potential disadvantage.

I do not say this to claim that my mother allowed me to be adopted on the sole belief that I would have the “better life” in a first-world country. That is not the basis for my adoption. My adoption occurred because of a motorcycle collision that left extremely expensive hospital bills. If I had not been premature, my mother would have raised me.

The very fact that [relayed through my sister] my mother had no money to pay, no assistance, and was apparently not given any alternative except for adoption which she agreed, has finally made me realize that she truly had no choice in the matter. Would she have taken me back, or rejected my adoptive mother’s “offer” with upraised hands?

That is a question I have wanted to ask for a very long time, but fear that it implies she must choose between me (her surrender) or my sister (substituted role for relinquishment). It may have indicated to her that she had to hypothetically choose between the past child who may have not survived in the first place, or the future child known as my sister, subsequent “replacement” to the role I would have had. It has occurred to me many times over the course of my visit to their home that even if I had found a way to phrase such a bold question, she might have simply responded with: “I don’t know. How can I answer that?”

Understanding of cultural obligation in the past three years has led me to believe she would have been more likely to “reject” raising me due to my parents’ obligation to pay the bill and as a result, adopt me into a “better life” and economic background. Even though her heart clearly desired to keep and raise me, moral “debt” based on my adoptive parents’ background and what they were willing to pay to save my life would have encouraged her to let me go – no matter how badly she may have wanted to raise me.

Her surrender of me was a matter of life or death. I do not consider that a choice.

But what people do not realize is that this still happens today. It is happening as I type this. Adoption agencies in Taiwan are very aware that more often than not, biological parents love and wish to keep their babies but do not have the money to provide medical expenses. So I question: why aren’t there alternatives for them to keep their children? Why do the papers say “abandonment” when it is not true? Why is this issue of human rights being covered by the façade of adoption?

~

ETA:

I’ve noticed this post is getting a lot of attention – not necessarily from the comments, but from the stats.

I’d like to clarify something I wrote earlier:

Perhaps she felt that if she loved me enough, she should give me up to another set of loving parents who wanted very much to adopt me and give me the better life; not only had they saved my would-be Fate from premature death, but since they took the adoption offer, my mother may have felt that she might as well give me a “better” chance at living life anyway.

You might be wondering, “Well, if it didn’t bother your TW parents to the point where they obviously haven’t made a big deal out of it, then why do you care? If they thought it was best at the time that the situation occurred, then why would you let it bother you so much?”

Because I am the one who was adopted.

I am the one who was separated from her family, her mother tongue, her culture and her homeland.

If adoption is really promoted to be in the best interest of the child, then perhaps you should take my opinion into consideration as well. Just because people claimed to know what was best for my health does not mean that money should have had an advantage or that my parents should have had to relinquish on the basis of not being able to provide nearly $10,000 dollars’ worth of hospital bills.

I am the one who was adopted, I am the one who lost her original family through adoption – my opinion matters too.

Or, at the very least, it should.

You can contact Mei-Ling at: little.wing04@hotmail.com