The Spittin' Image of Mom

"Actually, I was expecting someone with a full head of reddish-brown hair," I say to the gray-haired balding specimen squinting back at me from the bathroom mirror. It's not the first time I've been surprised and confused like this. In fact, it happens more these days, and sometimes it's annoying.
Like when I'm walking down the sidewalk innocently minding my own business and all is well, but then I'm suddenly ambushed from a storefront window by my own slouching reflection, which in turn awakens my inner scoutmaster: "Suck in that gut, shoulders back, atta boy, stand up straight; there now, that's more like it."
It's kind of obnoxious, actually. But not always.
For example, the other day one particularly sneaky mirror in a coffee shop gave me a candid glimpse of myself. I was the spittin' image of my mom when she's deciding whether to buy something at a hardware store, or figuring out her reply to some amazing thing I've just said. The gears in her head then turn as she wavers between desire and prudence, or maybe between admiration and utter stupefaction.
Whatever I was thinking at the time, there she was, looking back at me from behind my face in the mirror.
For some of my friends, discovering in themselves such traces of their moms would be the kiss of death. Me? I savor such fleeting moments.
Because the woman I call mom has class: a single parent with two kids, always there when we needed her, reliable as the dawn; a pioneering businesswoman from the days when banks refused to lend to women; a lover of quality--whether in a thread of yarn, an elegant old house, or an exquisite solo in the Seattle Opera.
And how many older women could receive the news that her son was gay as graciously as she did? She was front and center for Rob's and my wedding, loves him like a son, and adores her grandson, David. She's a blessing beyond words to my family.
Today, at 89, she takes long morning walks around her neighborhood, runs errands for the folks in her condominium complex, reads voraciously, hangs out with her good friend Joe and his lively dog, Abby, and even joins them for weekend camping trips.
And, oh yes. She, too, thinks George Bush is a cretan.
And just think: I sometimes look like her; I'm made from the same stuff! It makes me glad.

Was Our Son Stolen from His Birth Mother?

Was David's adoption process a fraud? The Guatemalan Procuraduria and the US Embassy are implying that it was. In the charged climate of a Guatemalan election year, they are painting American families like mine as unwitting contributors to child trafficking in Guatemala and, perhaps worse, as inflicting unspeakable pain on women like David's birth mother.

Are they correct? I doubt it. Most adopting families, including mine, have followed the existing legal procedures of those very same government agencies slavishly. And when my family went through the process, there were many precautions in place, including a DNA test establishing his birth mom's biological connection to David, her statement of relinquishment carrying her photo and signature, and a voluminous report of the social worker.

Still, even after all this, who can say for sure? The uncertainty now leaves me wondering what to think and how to feel.

Maybe I should just blow the whole thing off. Aren't we First Worlders already used to sipping rich creamy lattes knowing that the Guatemalans who picked the beans received barely enough to support their kids? We've gotten used to these moral ambiguities. Why not just add this adoption issue to the list?

But, hold on. Despite what Guatemalan politicians may say, this is not another story of exploitation by greedy Americans. It is, instead, a result of the sad legacy of Efrain Rios Mont, Guatemala's former brutal dictator, and his many sidekicks.

Thanks to that legacy, a high percentage of Guatemalan children--perhaps as many as one in four--die of intestinal infections because their families cannot afford filtered water. Education for these kids is almost non-existent, rarely going past the second grade. And there are many, many Guatemalan children in the streets and (as pictured above) around the dump in Guatemala City who survive by selling candy, shoe shines, and their bodies. It's for good reason that agencies like Camino Seguro (Safe Passage) ask for our help. And that many of us choose to adopt from Guatemala.

Rob and I once considered the surrogate route to creating our family. But with so many homeless kids in the world, we decided it would be better for us to adopt a child from a poor country. As it turned out, our discernment took us to Guatemala and Casa Quivira, an agency known for its integrity and the quality of its care.

Along with the rest of the world, I keep hoping that the authorities will clean up the abuses in the Guatemalan adoption system. But I don't regret my family's adoption path for a moment--despite the eyebrows now being raised by government bureaucrats and well-intentioned friends. Because David, the light of our lives and an aspiring race car driver, is safe, healthy, and, as I write this, tugging my pant leg and badgering me for a trip to the park. It could have been otherwise.

Update on Casa Quivira--Friday, August 24

All of the kids were moved out of Casa Quivira late last night in the pouring rain. No one knows where the government took them.

Here's today's article from the Boston Globe.

And here's the latest press release from the director of Casa Quivira:

PRESS STATEMENT
24 August 2007

All 35 Children in Casa Quivira under the Intervention of the The Guatemalan President's Office for Social Welfare (Secretaria de Bienestar Social de la Presidencia, SBSP), have been removed from the Casa Quivira Home.

Whereabouts and Wellbeing of Nine (9) Children earlier Removed from Casa Quivira by the SBSP continues to be unknown.

Late in the night last night under pouring rain the remaining 35 children in the care of Casa Quivira in Antigua, Guatemala were removed by The Guatemalan President's Office for Social Welfare (Secretaria de Bienestar Social de la Presidencia, SBSP). Casa Quivira attorneys will file motions today requesting that the judge recently assigned the case, Roxana Mena confirm that her office issued the order and indicate why the children were transferred and to where. After the final vehicle transferring the children left Casa Quivira late last night SBSP personnel with the assistance of the National Police forced the CQ staff nannies and nurses out of the home and into the late, raining night. Byron Alvarado, identifying himself as an advisor to the SBSP, threatened CQ staff that if they remained in the home he would see to it that they be linked to the crimes committed by Casa Quivira. To date, no formal charges have been leveled against CQ.

Attorneys for Casa Quivira were present and immediately appealed to the Juzgado de Paz in Antigua only to be told that the judge of the Juzgado de Paz was not available. Luis Quiroa, one of Casa Quivira's attorneys who accompanied the nannies and nurses to the Juzgado de Paz to give their declarations states that he was told by the officer on duty "the Judge is in Guatemala City and is tired of hearing your complaints." After closing the door in their face they were left standing in the rain.

Casa Quivira attorneys will immediately file petitions this morning in the appropriate courts insisting that they be informed of the current whereabouts and wellbeing of each child removed last night and the nine previously removed to an unnamed hospital, and that an explanation be offered as to why the children were transferred last night.

Clifford Phillips
Director
Casa Quivira