100 Books Like Dear Birthmother

This beautifully told tale of an adoptee searching for her original family is set against her ongoing relationship to the Southwest’s most awe-inspiring terrain, and the people who bring her there. I loved this book because it showed her evolution as a wilderness lover, romantic partner, and mother as she navigated fitting into various incarnations of family, which felt just as perilous, frustrating, and rewarding as finding the right footholds in the natural world. While we are all from Mother Earth, our earthly parents can be critical to a deeper understanding of who we are as people.

Deciding to place a child for adoption is one of the most excruciating decisions in the human experience. When Amy Seek, a promising architecture student, becomes pregnant, she’s not yet ready to become a parent. But she’s also not ready, completely, to hand over her child to a perfectly lovely family. Her tale of love, heartbreak, and acceptance is a reminder to parents and non-parents of all circumstances that there are lots of ways to make a family—and in this case, it was the best, most perfectly imperfect option. I think this is a really important book for everyone in the adoption triad (birth parents, adoptive parents, adoptees) to read, because it really gets up close and uncomfortably personal with the struggle some birth mothers undergo, despite the unlimited love they have for their babies. 

First of all, Nia Vardalos is just hilarious. She could write an Ikea assembly brochure and it would probably be side-splitting. But in the book, she tells about being a rising star (a great story on its own) who had it all – except a baby. After a grueling battle with infertility, she eventually came around to the idea of adoption, and started to learn more about the fost-adopt process of taking an older child who is unlikely to reunite with their original family. With great heart, she tells the roller-coaster story of bringing a 3-year-old with attachment challenges into her life—and the inevitable universality of motherhood. “Nothing prepared me for the life I would feel for my child. Nothing prepared me for how quickly it happened for me. And here’s what I just figure out now: no one is ever prepared. In a way, we’re all instant moms.” She’s… show more.

In this exquisitely written poem of a memoir, Jillian Lauren splays her heart wide open, on every page as she transforms from an addict whose used up most of her luck to a mother whose role requires great stores of grit, determination, and love. We’re right there with her as she and her husband decide to adopt a boy from Ethiopia, and we’re along for the bumpy, often painful, occasionally joyful, ride through the challenges of parenting this tiny person who has already lost so much, but has so much to give. Outside of motherhood, she’s so funny and interesting I kind of want to be best friends with her. Not in a weirdo-stalker way, though.

Leah’s open adoption story had so many parallels to my own family's open adoption story that I found comfort and familiarity in her journey. I imagined my own adopted children’s birth moms going through many of the same thoughts and feelings that Leah described. I cried for Leah, for my children’s birth moms, and for all the birth moms. 

This was an emotional but important read for me. I especially loved the part toward the end where Leah was able to share her current relationship with her eighteen-year-old birth daughter. Adoption should always be about what is best for the adopted child, and Leah shares all the pain and joy equally. It solidified my own conviction that I want my children to get closer to their birth moms. 

Because of my own work as an adoption writer and advocate for open adoption records, I knew each of these writers from webinars, podcasts, conferences, and social media. Combining their varied backgrounds and experiences–Sara is an adoptee, Kelsey is a birth parent, and Lori is an adoptive parent–was thrilling to read.

I devoured each of the thoughtful interviews and the candid responses the authors compiled and presented. Like these authors, I believe that by working together with truth and transparency, it is possible to move adoption forward toward a healing place.

Reading this book, I felt like I was sitting on a comfy couch in the presence of a caring and wise therapist. I liked how Lori Holden shares her own open adoption experiences along with providing a world of well researched advice. Having lived two open adoptions myself, I thought I was an expert, but this book gave me some surprising ah-ha moments.

I found the book easy to navigate each topic and did not want to skip over any of them. I liked how this book showed so many examples of how adoptive and birth parents navigate openness. It reinforced that it is not about me (the adopted parent)—it is about the child! I loved that Lori reminded me that I am strong. 

It’s difficult to find the words to do this autobiography justice. A likable and engaging birth mother shares the events that led to the removal of her sons by social services and talks about the incredible friendship she later develops with the mother who adopts them. This book made me imagine how my son’s birth parents may feel, and is essential reading for any adoptive parent struggling to find or maintain empathy for birth families. I felt inspired by Laura’s strength, selflessness, and personal growth, and admire the relationship she now has with her sons’ new mother, which is so beneficial to their sons.

I love that this book is written as a children’s book yet is packed with practical advice, resources, and insights for adoptive and foster parents and the therapists that support them. 

At first glance, I thought it was nothing more than a sweet illustrated children’s book about adoption, but the second part, “Putting the Pieces Together,” blew me away. I especially related to the topic: “When you talk about my birth family, it is a reflection of me. If you think that my birth family is ‘bad,’ then I may think that a part of me is ‘bad.’” I only wish I had this book when my adopted children were little, but I do not think it is ever too late to learn and apply.

When my twin sister and I first began our closed adoption search in 2010, this was the first book we read for background knowledge. I learned what unwed mothers like my own went through in the 1960s, how their boyfriends, parents, and families treated them, and what they were told to believe after relinquishing their child.

Eye-opening and heart-breaking, Fessler’s book afforded me the gifts of compassion and empathy that I needed once my twin sister, my birth mom, and I embarked on a reunion. For every adoptee from the closed adoption era, this should be required reading.