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Netting an adoption
Websites a meeting ground for birth parents and those who want to adopt


NANCY J. WHITE

A young couple barely out of their teens wrestled with the most wrenching
decision of their lives — to place their beautiful infant boy for adoption.
"The more attached we became to Alex, and the more we loved him," says the
mother, Amber, "the more we knew we had to do what was best for him."

For information, they turned to their tried-and-true source — the Internet.

While reading about adoption, they stumbled on a site featuring profiles of
Canadians with approved home studies, all waiting to adopt. One profile, of
Sarah and Rick, struck them — the couple's long, stable marriage and support
of open adoption, their values and interests, their grinning photographs.

"They seemed so in tune with us," Amber says.

So, one night, as the baby slept nearby, Amber poured out her heart in an
e-mail to two strangers. "Emotionally it was hard, but the words weren't
difficult to find. I wrote what I'd been feeling inside a thousand times
already."

Then she hit send.


Some 50 kilometres away, Sarah and Rick faced a looming deadline. They'd spent
four years undergoing fruitless fertility treatments and another three trying
to adopt. Nothing was happening.

Wary at first, they had finally posted their profile and photos on a website,
canadaadopts.ca. They got nibbles, but no bites. Three times, young women about
to give birth corresponded with them, raising their hopes, and then disappeared
into cyberspace.

"It was devastating," says Sarah.

So they set a time to call it quits. They'd give up trying to be parents on
Dec. 31.

"You gotta move on," says Rick. "It didn't seem meant to be," says Sarah.

Then, on Nov. 29, they got mail.


The rest happened quickly. The two women spoke on the phone that night. "The
first time, we talked for hours," Amber says. "That's hours, plural. There was
a real connection and it's been that way ever since."

The couples met soon after, and then the adoption professionals got involved,
overseeing the counselling and legal aspects. The couples worked together with
Alex, then 10 months old, for a smooth transition, and discussed an open,
flexible arrangement of visits and phone calls to keep Amber and Steve and
their families involved in the boy's life.

"It was such an emotional time," says Amber of the placement, now 19 months
ago. "But when I see how happy he is and whenever I talk to them, I'm validated
that this was the right thing."

Coincidentally, the 21-day period when birth parents can change their minds,
ended on Dec. 31, Sarah's and Rick's deadline. Says Sarah: "There's magic in
all this."


Who needs the stork? If asked the perennial question, "Where did I come from?",
parents might never answer, "The Internet, Sweetie," but the information
highway is becoming a route to adoption.

With few babies available in North America, eager parents-to-be look abroad and
cast a wide net at home, trying the traditional avenues, such as the children's
aid society and private agencies, as well as cyberspace.

Some couples create their own websites or pay to be included in one of the U.S.
online registries or on Canada Adopts.

A few get lucky on the Net. Since Canada Adopts started in 2001, according to
co-founder Lawrence Morton, five matches have been made, including the story
above. The site's waiting parent registry — the only one of its kind in
Canada, he says — usually has about a dozen profiles of people wishing to
adopt.

"The Web is another outreach tool," says Morton, a journalist and adoptive
father who runs the site in his spare time. "It's no different than putting an
ad in the paper, but with no borders, and anybody can see it anytime."

With wide exposure, a few Canadian couples have gotten responses from birth
mothers in the U.S., who see Canada as a tolerant, peaceful place for their
children to grow up.

Morton and his wife, Lorena Beccari, adopted their first son after registering
on a U.S. site. To help others, they started the Canadian site, which includes
general information and discussion boards. Hopeful adoptive parents pay $195 to
be listed in the registry.

"You never forget what it was like. We made a lot of mistakes early on," says
Morton, who spent nearly three years trying to adopt. "This is a labour of
love."

For birth parents, an online parent registry lets them browse anonymously at
home, without an intermediary who might filter choices. "I felt in control. No
one was leading me," Amber says.

On an online registry, adoptive parents-to-be don't give last names and usually
offer a cell or toll-free number to their home or an adoption agency contact.
The adoption professionals should be brought in as early as possible, Morton
says.

"This isn't a short cut," he emphasizes. "In the end, you go through the same
legal and social process."


When it comes to adoption, the Internet makes some people queasy.

The move by some provinces to post online photographs and details about
children waiting in foster care for adoptive homes has been controversial. The
website adoptontario.ca started the photo listing in April and has already
helped place a child.

"It's a wonderful thing. People respond to a face," says Sandra Scarth,
president of the Adoption Council of Canada. "But some people think it
`commodifies' the children."

Anxious about shady dealings, many people recall the headlines three years ago
about a particularly nasty case dubbed "The Internet Twins." An international
tug-of-war broke out when British and American couples both paid money to adopt
baby girls through a broker who ran an Internet agency.

A bizarre story, it highlights the perils if you don't do your research and
follow necessary precautions, Morton says.

It doesn't matter whether you use an agency, a lawyer or the Internet, says
Allison Chidekel, an adoptive mother and co-founder of the U.S. site
adoptiononline.com. "There are always risks when you have people in need and
other people desperately wanting something."

The online risks run the gamut of crank calls, wild goose chases,
disappointment and even scams. "It's adventurous to put yourself out there,"
says Toronto lawyer and adoption licensee Cheryl Appell. "It's not for
everyone."

Jamie and Laura were certainly leery at first. But after months of no word from
the private agencies, they also posted on Canada Adopts.

Bingo. The very next day, they received an e-mail from a birth mother. She told
them she'd been checking out the Internet for several months and liked them the
best. "She said we were `a cute couple,'" Laura says.

Amelia, now 17 months old, is leading Jamie around the family room, stopping to
play with the buttons on the television. The couple e-mails all updates —
first steps, first molars — to the birth mother, who calls every few months.

"I sat with her in the hospital and we talked," Laura says, as Amelia flits by
in her pink dress. "I really like her as a person. I feel such a connection:
She chose us. People who aren't adoptive parents don't quite get it. I am so
grateful to her."

Not all connections are so speedy or static-free.

After five years of "infertility hell" and two miscarriages, one woman still
desperately longed for a baby. She and her husband tried everything, including
sending letters to 900 doctors who deliver babies, posting notes on community
bulletin boards and in local newspapers, and registering online.

They missed one e-mail with a potential match when their computer broke down.
Another e-mail and a phone call led nowhere.

"You don't know if it was a crank or if the person just got scared and
confused," says her husband. "You're out there with your hat in your hand,
emotionally vulnerable."

Finally, they were chosen from the online registry. "When I read the e-mail, I
started sobbing. I couldn't talk," says the woman. "I had the feeling this baby
would be the one."

At birth, the baby developed serious health problems and was in intensive care.
"It was the most stressful time in our lives," the husband says.

The baby recovered and went home with them. Then the birth mother changed her
mind about placing the baby. But she reconsidered again and agreed to the
placement. "It was killing me," the adoptive mother says.

(Under Ontario law, a birth mother first signs a consent form, but not before
the eighth day after birth, and then has 21 days to revoke the decision.)

Thrilled to be parents, the couple wants to adopt again but through the
children's aid society. "It won't be such an emotional roller coaster," the
husband says. This time, they're not looking for an infant.

While newborns are rarely available through the public system, the vast
majority of placements are children under 2, according to Nancy Dale, associate
executive director of the Toronto Children's Aid Society.

Sometimes, an online match is not as good as it first seems. For several
months, a pregnant woman and the couple she'd selected through the Internet
spoke daily and visited with each other. But over time, they began disagreeing
over adoption details. They finally broke off the arrangement, which was
devastating for both sides.

"You can't want a baby so badly (that) you don't look at everything," says the
adoptive mother, who was eventually chosen by someone else.

The best advice, experts say, is to get adoption professionals involved quickly
to explore all options and sort through potential minefields.

"Both parties may enter with good intentions, but not be fully aware of all the
issues," says Tina McCann, executive director of the Markham-based Adoption
Agency and Counselling Service of Ontario.

It's also a test of how serious a potential birth parent may be. A woman with
an unwanted pregnancy may respond online but not be committed to placing the
baby. Someone eager to adopt, however, might try to maintain contact with her,
hoping she'll eventually agree. "There's room for exploitation on both sides,"
McCann says.

There's also room for dialogue. The Internet offers numerous adoption-related
chat rooms. At Canada Adopts, the discussion boards are open to anyone, with
the birth mom board the busiest, logging more than 1,600 posts.

"It's a forum to talk freely and move beyond the stereotypes," Morton says.

Several birth moms have posted ongoing journals. In one that spans many months,
a woman writes movingly of her grief home alone after the birth and her
confusion during the period when she could change her mind. Along the way,
other birth mothers told her it gets easier with time and adoptive mothers
posted sympathetic messages.

"Her journal showed what a heart-wrenching decision it was," says Sandra
McCormick, an adoptive-mom-to-be who frequents the site. "She has had such a
huge impact on me. It gives you empathy."


-------------------------
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail . . . but, a true friend will
be sitting next to you saying, "Damn . . . that was fun!"
-----Unknown