Dear Birthmother
This is an archived blog from 2011. Return to the blog home to read other posts from In the Family Way.
This has been one of the hardest things I've ever done—and that's saying a lot. We finally finished a Dear Birthmother letter. It's taken the better part of a month and was the subject of a lot of arguments. But it is done. Final. Ready.
Why is this so hard? I compare it to a professional resume. How do you represent yourself on one sheet of paper in a way that makes your unique qualifications shine through without sounding desperate or overqualified? I struggle with my resume every time I update it, and I am never quite satisfied with it. This was worse.
In this case, we needed to tell a stranger everything about ourselves that would convince her to choose us to raise her child. No pressure, eh? Where do you start? Well, first you have to be very understanding of the situation the reader finds herself in—facing an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy. Then you move on to trying to tell your story—why you want to adopt, details of your life (past, present, and future), your home, your family, your means to provide for this little life, and any other factoids about yourself that will make you stand out among the rest of the couples hoping to appeal to this birthmother.
You have to be careful as well. You have to be sure to be completely honest without divulging too much. You want to be careful to set honest expectations from this first contact. And you also want to make sure that a birthmother can see a place in your life for her baby. That means you can't paint a picture of a perfect life that might be disturbed by the addition of a new little one. But you can't sound empty and desperate, either.
In the end, it's a delicate balance of sounding hopeful, grateful, and stable with just enough of a hole in your life that is the perfect space for a baby.
Then there's the photo...
Sarah, our adoption facilitator at the Adoption Center of San Diego is particular about her process. She's got a homespun quality about her practice that is in stark contrast to the large, slick agencies or law firms we spoke with. Those large outfits spend a great deal of money on advertising and marketing. They insist that you have a website, a slick marketing piece with lots of photos, and a personal toll-free number, and they expect you to market yourself as they market you across their national networks. You also must be willing to accept inquiries from potential birthmothers by email or phone, essentially screening calls from women facing the most difficult decision of their lives. I really hated this idea, so we went with Sarah.
Sarah does personal outreach in and around San Diego County. She knows every birthmother and every adoptive family. Her personal touch extends to the marketing she does as well. Sarah spends a lot of time speaking with women at schools, churches, and community centers. She actively promotes the Adoption Center of San Diego online and around the county. She screens all potential birthmothers and adoptive families herself. Her adoptive families are not expected to market themselves either. She does expect us to network, telling everyone we know that we are adopting, and asking them to spread the word and direct any inquiries to her office. I love that Sarah's approach is so personal.
Where the agencies and law firms require slick, professional marketing, Sarah likes personal letters with snapshots paperclipped to them. As a marketing professional and former graphic designer, this is the one area I have struggled with. I like pretty. I like professionalism. I like slick. So I broke ranks with Sarah's process and designed a letter that is a little fancier than her standard. You only get one chance to make a first impression, right?
But when you only have one photo to show, that photo needs to be...exceptional. I wanted a picture that made us look mature yet young, settled yet fun, loving, and parental. We've been taking pictures of ourselves for weeks now, and every single one of them was awful. To say I became obsessed is an understatement. Many of these pictures were fine for Rob, but not for me. Finally, I gave up and chose the best of the batch. I suppose no picture was ever going to be perfect.
So here it is, the one page that's going to open the door to the rest of our lives. Wish us luck!
This is an archived blog from 2011. Return to the blog home to read other posts from In the Family Way.