A Baby to Adopt — The Letter That Made It Happen Forty Years Ago

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

Forty years ago this month I was writing the most important letter of my life.

It was a letter to friends, family, strangers, anyone I thought would listen.

I wanted a baby. Jon wanted a baby. But, our years of trying had come to naught. It was time to ask the world, instead of our bodies, to send a baby our way.

It worked. On January 30, 1981, on a chilly, snowy day in New York, Peter’s birth mother climbed the stairs to our motel room carrying Peter in a bundle of blankets.

A Birth Mother in Tears. A Baby to Adopt

She was in tears. I wrapped my arms around her. I thought she might want to change her mind and keep her baby.

Moments passed, then finally, impatiently it seemed to me, she stepped out of my embrace and put her baby in my arms.

With that, I was a mother. Jon was a father. And Peter was ours.

Forty Years Later

Today, Peter is approaching his fortieth birthday. I had been aware of that upcoming milestone. But I had forgotten about that other anniversary. I had forgotten that it was 40 years ago this month that Jon and I folded and stamped and mailed those letters, scores of them, in the hopes they would find their way to a baby in need of adoption.

A few weeks ago, a reminder of that long-ago letter arrived in my email inbox. It was from Peter. A couple, friends of a friend, was hoping to adopt a baby. Would Jon and I be willing to send them a copy of the letter we wrote so many years ago?

I jumped at the chance. Memories of the hopes and fears and excitement and worry and anticipation of those years of waiting for a baby came flooding back. I found myself dashing off an email to the hopeful couple:

I am so excited for you. Adopting a baby is one of the most amazing and wonderful things you can do . . . Suddenly you are the parents of a baby; the universe has presented you with a child out of what seems like the blue.

I scrambled around the house, looking for the letter Jon and I had so painstakingly composed. I found it and reread it. Here’s how it closed:

Jon and I feel lucky to have found each other — we love each other very much. Yet both of us have looked forward to having children for as long as we can each remember. We are impatient for the day when we will have a baby of our own to love . . . .

Our letter was a single page, tastefully printed on tan stationery. A photo of Jon and me was enclosed. As I recall we took that picture ourselves, using the timer on my camera. And that was it.

Adoption Then and Now

For Rachel and Nick and other couples in search of parenthood these days, apparently a simple letter dropped in the U.S. mail no longer suffices.

Rachel and Nick have built an impressive, polished website. It includes thoughtful odes to their life together along with a series of portraits of them by a skilled photographer. Dozens of friends and family contributed photos of themselves as a part of “the village” that the couple’s baby will join.

It’s all very persuasive and makes Jon’s and my old letter to the world seem so 20th century.

Pro-Choice and Pro-Adoption

Sad to say, however, one reality has not changed since 1980. Couples both then and now who hope to adopt far outnumber the babies available for adoption.

So, here’s my pitch to women who find themselves faced with an impossible pregnancy: consider taking that baby to term and giving it to a couple like Rachel and Nick.

I’m as pro-choice as they come. A woman’s right to an early and safe abortion is a hill I would die on. But I’m talking about choice here. And there is a really wonderful choice that a pregnant woman has these days — adoption.

Rooting for Rachel and Nick

I don’t know Rachel and Nick. I don’t know them at all. I can’t really vouch for them. But I have a serious hunch that they will make terrific parents. I hope it happens for them.

Our baby did what babies do. He grew up: “Peter Has Appendicitis 2,000 Miles Away. How Do I Mother Him From Here?   Meanwhile, I had to do a little letting go: “How Selective Service Made a Man of My Son — Without Even Trying.”