How To Write A Birthmother Letter – They work for adoption agencies and their job is to provide support and guidance to those involved in the adoption process. They work closely with social workers and other professionals to ensure that your best interests are always kept in mind.
The job outlook for Adoption Counselors is good, as the demand for adoption is expected to grow in the coming years.
How To Write A Birthmother Letter
I am writing to apply for the position of adoption consultant. I have a bachelor’s degree in social work, and two years of experience working as an adoption counselor for a large family services organization.
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My job as an adoption counselor is to provide advice and support to birth parents who are considering placing their children for adoption, and to adoptive families who are waiting to place a child of their own. It is important to give my clients all the information they need to make the decisions that are right for them.
In addition to counseling clients, I also have a registry of birth parents and adoptive families, which I update regularly. These records ensure we know what types of adoptions are available at any given time, and where there may be gaps in our ability to help families.
I enjoy being an adoption counselor because it gives me the opportunity to help people make decisions about one of the most important parts of their lives. Thank you for your consideration; I look forward to speaking with you about this position.
When applying for an adoption counselor position, be sure to highlight your experience working with diverse populations, as well as your knowledge of the adoption process. Additionally, focus on your ability to provide support and guidance to those involved in the adoption process.
Finding My Birth Mother Changed My Life — And The Way I Manage My Health Care
Contact an adoption consultant at Resume Sample for more tips on how to write your resume and follow up with a strong cover letter. Eight months before she died in 1983, my birth mother wrote a six-page letter to her beloved sister, Donna. Lillian and Donna were not biological sisters but the absence of blood did not make their emotional bond any less strong.
Donna was one of the first people I called five or six years ago after learning about my birth mother’s identity. Donna spoke kindly of Lillian. As we talked, Donna sent me a large brown envelope containing photographs of Lillian taken at various times in her life.
Last month, Donna, her husband and I got together for our last night in Indiana, where I had traveled for a family reunion. As we sat and talked in a hotel lobby near the Indianapolis airport, Donna gave me Lillian’s original letter, which she had saved and copied. I took the copy, assuming Donna had the original since it was her paper that she had kept all these years. I showed Donna pictures of my biological father, Steve, thinking she had met him on one of her visits to see Lillian in Northbrook. Donna did not recognize my biological father in the photos.
We talked about Lillian’s difficult life in Indiana and her unhappy years as a wife and mother around Chicago. I thanked Donna and her husband for meeting me and walked to the door. We hugged each other. “I’ll call you next week,” I said, thinking I had some questions about Lillian’s letter.
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Back in my hotel room, I read and reread the letter. I was equally intrigued by what the letter said and what it didn’t say.
A fluent and right-leaning typist, Lillian gave Donna a glimpse into her world at the beginning of 1983.
She wrote about the horrific car accident that left her youngest son, my brother, Fritz, with brain damage.
After being hit and dragged 75 feet by a car in July 1981, Fritz went into a coma that lasted three weeks, Lillian wrote. When he arrived, doctors discovered he had a brain injury on the left side of his brain. Fritz spent five months in hospital.
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. “Now he is doing well (but) his coordination (on the left side) is not very good. I am trying to take him to the rehabilitation training center so that he can learn to do things for himself. All in all it was very beautiful.” …
“I would like to visit you all, but I cannot leave Fritz alone, and he tends to feel people, which he is not used to,” she wrote. “I’ve never been very strong in endurance but I’m sure I’m learning all about it now.”
One of the problems that happened was that people were shot dead in their old neighborhood and then the victim’s house was robbed. Lillian desperately wanted to keep Fritz away from his old friends and drugs.
Lillian and Fritz moved to a house in the woods, with a large lake across the street. I think it was Slocum Lake in Island Lake, Illinois. Lillian, who grew up in rural Indiana, probably felt safe in a small town and may have been drawn to the lake. After all, my birth mother used to fish occasionally.
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Divorced twice, Lillian worries about money. They didn’t have a phone. While Fritz was hospitalized, she racked up a huge phone bill that took a while to pay.
“I doubt I’ll ever get the money,” Lillian wrote. “I just got the last payment on the Northbrook house so now maybe I can get other things I couldn’t before like a phone.”
Lillian gives updates on Mike and Michelle, her other children, her daughter Chris, her friends and her ex-husband, Howard. She asked Donna’s family. My birth mother expressed fear that Donna’s daughter, Kim, would be old enough to drive.
As girls, Lillian and Donna lived together on a farm near Odon, Indiana. Lillian was a foster child. In the 1930’s and 40’s, Lillian’s struggling parents were too poor to care for their large family of 12 children. Authorities placed Lillian and her siblings in the homes of foster parents in southern Indiana.
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During her teenage years, in her 40s and early 50s, Lillian lived with Donna’s family. Donna’s mother, Ruth, testified that she expected Lillian to do the housework and look after Donna, who was 13 or 14 years younger than Lillian. Ruth had her hands full with two other children and relied on Lillian for help. My birth mother stepped up to the plate. Lillian took care of Donna like a mother and they formed a deep bond. After Lillian moved to Northbrook, she and Donna visited each other, often with their families.
Lillian confided in Donna when she found out she had breast cancer. The cancer was in an advanced stage when Lillian was diagnosed several years before she died. A surgeon removed a large tumor from my birth mother’s right breast along with lymph nodes in her arm. After the surgery, my birth mother was unable to use her right hand normally.
Metabolic breast cancer was eating away at my birth mother, causing discomfort, fatigue, depression and who knows what other symptoms. Lillian never mentioned her health in the letter. Maybe Lillian accepted the prospect of dying with stoicism and steeled herself to death and didn’t want to talk about it in the letter.
“I have thought of you all many times and I love you all (but) I just hate to write when there are problems. I usually have a one-track mind when there is a problem,”
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I can’t think about anything else until I solve that and I don’t want to put it on anyone else.”
I knew my birth mother had a difficult childhood. Now in Lillian’s words, in her writing, I saw how difficult it was at the end of her life. In 1983, I didn’t know I had another mother. My adoptive parents hid the truth about my adoption and biological family from me. I never had the chance to meet or get to know my birth mother. That’s why I find every detail about her life fascinating. I feel connected to my birth mother.
Reading the letter, I felt sympathy for my birth mother’s condition. Sitting alone at my desk with the paper in front of me, I blinked and tears rolled down my cheeks. After a few days of writing this post at my desk, I had to stop writing to take a walk down the street. She shed a tear.
Maybe my birth mother would have told Donna more if they had talked on the phone. I think my birth mother wanted to talk to him. Lillian gave Donna an unlisted phone number for her friend, Nancy, in case Donna needed to contact her.
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“I expect to get a phone call next month, but if for any reason you don’t want to get in touch with me, call Nancy,” she said.
My birth mother gave me up for adoption almost 20 years ago. I don’t know if she ever thought about me in the past years or the finals
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