The Joys and Heartbreak of an Open Adoption

Deciding to place my daughter for adoption was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make. It’s not something I ever expected would be part of my life story, and yet, here I am, reflecting on a journey that has shaped me in ways I never could have anticipated. I remember the moment like it was yesterday, the uncertainty, the weight of the decision, and the love I felt for my baby. But what I did not expect, what no one warned me about, was the emotional journey that would follow. It’s not something that can be fully prepared for, no matter how much you think you know about the process or how much support you have around you. The reality for me though was I had no support.

Adoption is often portrayed as a black-and-white decision, you either place your baby for adoption or you raise them yourself. But the truth is, it’s full of so many shades of gray. Even in the best circumstances, with the most open and positive relationships, adoption comes with a deep emotional complexity. I’m one of the lucky ones who has an open adoption, some women go into this being told the adoption will remain open, but after all legal papers are signed the adoption is almost immediately closed, but even with that, the emotional landscape is not as simple as it might seem.

The Gift of Open Adoption

I truly feel blessed to have an open adoption. Being able to see my daughter, hear about her life, and be a part of her world in some small way is something I hold dear. Open adoption means I get to watch her grow, see her face light up when she visits her sisters (my other two daughters,) and be a part of her life in a way many adoptive parents and birth parents don’t get to experience. It’s a gift. There’s so much joy in seeing her, even though she’s not with me every day. I treasure the visits, those moments when I can hold her, talk to her, and witness firsthand the beautiful life she’s living with her new family.

The truth is, there’s a deep sense of relief in knowing she’s loved and well cared for. I see the bond she shares with her adoptive parents, and I know I made the right decision for her. There’s no doubt in my mind that her future is bright. It’s easy to feel gratitude for this type of relationship; I get to be a part of her life without all the complexities of daily parenting. I can enjoy the joy of her milestones and growth without the stress of managing her day-to-day care.

But as wonderful as all of this is, there’s still something bittersweet about it. No matter how much love I feel for her, there’s still an undeniable ache, the pain of not being the one to tuck her in at night, to experience the mundane moments that make motherhood, or to have the kind of day-to-day presence that I wish I could give her. These emotions don’t go away with open adoption, and it’s something I’ve had to come to terms with over time.

The Reality of Saying Goodbye

After each visit, the goodbye always hits harder than I expect. At first, I thought I would get used to it. How could you not, after seeing her several times? How could I not just enjoy the moment and walk away knowing I would see her again soon? But that’s not how it works. Saying goodbye is always harder than I think it’s going to be, and I don’t think that will ever change.

Each time I leave, I feel like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind. That’s what no one tells you about open adoption: the goodbyes are just as hard, if not harder, than the initial decision to place your child. In the moments of laughter and joy, I sometimes forget that I’m only there for a snapshot of her life, not the entire picture.

The sadness doesn’t come from regret, it’s not about wishing I had made a different decision. It’s the deep ache of knowing that, while I will always love her and be a part of her life in some way, I won’t be there for all of the big moments. It’s the pain of being reminded that while I have a relationship with her, it’s not the same as the one I would have if I were her primary caregiver.

It’s complicated. It’s a strange feeling to feel so connected to a child and yet so distant at the same time. I’m lucky to have this open adoption, but the emotional costs are real. And as much as I try to mentally prepare myself before every visit, the goodbyes always take me by surprise.

The Reality of Closed Adoptions

Many people don’t realize that even open adoptions aren’t always permanent. Open adoptions are often seen as a model for how the adoption process should go, but the truth is that many open adoptions eventually close. Sometimes, the reasons are logistical, families move, and life circumstances change. Sometimes, it’s an emotional shift, where one party feels the need for more boundaries or a change in the relationship. 

The adoption process is always evolving, and it’s not always predictable. I’ve seen it happen several times before. I joined many birth mother Facebook groups and would hear stories about someone’s open adoption that, over time, became more and more distant until it eventually closed. I don’t think anyone goes into an open adoption thinking it will close, but the reality is that things change. People’s lives shift, and feelings evolve. And while I hope with all my heart that my adoption remains open, there’s always a little piece of me that wonders what will happen as time goes on.

The fear of eventual distance is something I try not to dwell on too much, but it’s always in the back of my mind. I can’t help but wonder if one day the visits will stop if the communication will fade, and if I’ll be left with only memories of the moments I was able to share with her. That’s the uncertainty of adoption, it’s not a one-time decision but a lifelong journey that can sometimes be unpredictable.

Final Thoughts

The love I have for my daughter is unshakeable. Even though there will always be sadness, there will also always be an immense amount of love, hope, and gratitude. I’m grateful for the opportunity to be a part of her life, even if only in small but meaningful ways. The visits, the phone calls, the pictures, I cherish every moment.

I know that adoption is a journey filled with ups and downs, and I’m okay with that. The sadness of saying goodbye may never go away, but it doesn’t diminish my joy when I’m with her. And no matter how much time passes, no matter how much distance may come between us, she will always be my daughter in my heart.

I can’t predict what the future will hold, but I do know this: the decision to place my daughter for adoption wasn’t just about what was best for her in that moment, it was about what was best for her for the rest of her life. And no matter where our open adoption journey leads, I’ll always be thankful for the love and the moments we share, however brief they may be.