Our Family's Jewish Adoption Rituals
by Debra Goldstein Smith
My husband and I are the adoptive parents of two children, Justin, almost
5 and Talia, age 2. On a recent Shabbat, we held a naming ceremony for
them in our synagogue. It was an exciting, emotional day, preceded literally
by years of anxious waiting and planning. We'd like to share how we planned
the ceremony, in case our experience might be helpful to others.
To put things in perspective, you should know a little history.
Initially we were foster parents to Justin. He was placed with us as
a 6-month-old infant in March of 1990. At age 16 months, he was returned
to his birth parents. Six weeks after that, we were asked once again to
care for him. At that point, the social service agency determined that
Justin's birth parents could not adequately care for him, and their goal
for him changed to adoption by us. Although our initial plan hadn't necessarily
been to adopt him, we were thrilled.
Because of the slow-moving social service system, it wasn't until Justin
had already turned 4 that we could actually file the petition to adopt
him. The final adoption decree wasn't issued until the end of February
1994.
In the meantime we decided to adopt another child.
In May of 1992, Tali came home with us from the hospital when she was
1 day old. We adopted her independently. Her adoption was finalized without
a problem by March of 1993. We decided to delay her conversion or any
special event of welcome for her until Justin's case was resolved. It
just didn't seem right to have something for her when Justin was older
and had been with us longer. We decided when Justin's adoption was final,
then we'd take care of everything together.
All along during those four years we had been keeping our rabbi informed.
He and others in the congregation knew what was going on. Their big question
was essentially, "Nu? When?" Months and months went by and we
had to keep saying, "Not yet! We'll tell you when."
When it became clear that Justin's case really was going to be resolved
in early 1994, that's when we began to make plans in earnest. The rabbi
said both kids had to be converted, because they were both born of non-Jewish
mothers. Since we are members of a Conservative congregation, the Conservative
rules applied.
This meant we had to appear before a Beit Din (a modern equivalent of
a Jewish court, in our case, three Conservative rabbis) and the children
had to be immersed in the mikvah. Also, before the Beit Din and the mikvah,
Justin had to have a ritual bris.
Justin had been circumcised as an infant, but he had to have the Jewish
ceremony and be pricked on the penis, called "Tafat Dam," or
drawing of the blood. We contracted the mohel recommended by our rabbi
and discussed the situation. Justin was 4 years old.
We had to figure out a way not to traumatize him for life, and also
convey the message that it was all right in this particular instance to
drop his drawers and let a man cut him in his very private place. This
was no easy task! We had great apprehension about this. Why did entering
the Jewish religion have to be so scary? However, we resigned ourselves
to it, since there was no choice. We told Justin that all Jewish boys
had this done, so he had to, too. Our rabbi and the mohel said the main
thing was for us to be calm and act like this was the most natural thing
in the world. If we were relaxed about it, Justin would be relaxed. The
mohel said he would gain Justin's confidence, talk with him, show him
the freon spray that would be used as a local anesthetic, and then very
quickly do the dirty deed.
We elected to make this a very private event in our home because of
the circumstances. We didn't even have Tali at home so that things would
be as calm as possible. Just Mom, Dad, the "rabbi-doctor" and
Justin. Justin participated willingly. When the mohel asked for wine and
a kiddish cup, Justin went to get them. He got a plate to go under the
kiddish cup. He got the kipot. He played with the freon spray. He burst
into tears with the actual cut, but he recovered quickly (Mom and Dad--well
that's another story). Then the mohel recited all the prayers.
When he said the part about bringing your child to the wedding canopy
our eyes filled with tears. Where were our parents? Where were all the
friends and relatives? Other people should be hearing this! Soon, we thought,
soon.
We received the final adoption decree on February 28. We called our
rabbi that day. We told him Justin's finally adopted. Let's plan the Beit
Din and the naming!
This is where we made a big mistake. We set the date for the naming
because the grandparents had to make plane reservations in advance. We
mailed out invitations. In the meantime, the rabbi was trying to set up
the Beit Din. That meant finding a time that two other Conservative rabbis
could meet with our rabbi and all of us. It was Passover time and the
rabbis were very busy.
We were really sweating it out whether we would get the Beit Din and
mikvah dunk completed before the date we had set for the naming. It all
worked out, but our advice to anyone thinking about doing this: get the
Beit Din and mikvah dunk out of the way, then plan your naming date. It
will save a lot of stress!
Our rabbi set up the Beit Din at a synagogue with a mikvah (our synagogue
doesn't have one). The rabbis asked us some questions.
Not the questions we expected and were anxious about, like do you keep
kosher and do you keep Shabbat. Different ones, like how much contact
will the children have with their non-Jewish birth relatives? Since we
have two open adoptions, this question was very relevant. We discussed
the benefits of open adoption versus the possible detriment to the children's
Jewish identity. We said that we felt it was our job to make being Jewish
so joyous and so much a part of their lives that hopefully it wouldn't
be a problem. We told them their birth parents understood the children
were being raised Jewish, and though they were all a little uncomfortable
about it because it was unfamiliar to them, they accepted it and were
glad the children were being exposed to a religious way of life. We told
them you never even know how much a biological Jewish child will choose
to practice Judaism as an adult, and all you can do is your best. That
seemed to satisfy them.
Because Justin was old enough to respond, they asked him some questions,
too. (Tali just ran all over the place as 2-year-olds are supposed to
do, and they didn't bother her.) Justin was slightly intimidated by facing
down three rabbis! We thought we'd die when he didn't answer right away,
"What special food did you just eat on Passover?" Would they
deny our kids' conversion based on a 4-year-old's shyness? Our relief
was audible when he said, "Matzah!" Hurray we thought. He said
the right answer!
Finally, they said it was okay. The conversions could go through. Our
rabbi had prepared some beautiful conversion certificates. We read those
aloud and signed them. Everyone said mazel tov and we hugged and kissed
the children. It was great.
Now we were off to the mikvah. A second trauma for Justin. Did you know
that not only does the child have to be totally immersed, the child has
to free-fall? If it were shallow water where Justin's feet could reach
the bottom and he could then jump under, that would have been fine. Instead,
it was deep water, and though my husband Gary was in the water with him
(Justin nude, Gary in a bathing suit), Gary had to let him go so that
he went all the way under in the deep water by himself, then quickly go
down and get him. So many rules! Justin screamed, and Tali, having seen
Justin, did the same when it was her turn. Anyway, they survived. More
prayers, more mazel tovs. They were absolutely and officially Jewish now.
We had invited one close friend to join us for this occasion. It was
great having her there. She kept track of Tali while the rabbis were questioning
us. She helped met get the kids dressed and undressed. She was our moral
support. And it was almost like she was a witness, too. Someone else to
verify that all of this happened. (And later to do a post mortem like
you do after any event, what did you think of the rabbi's questions, what
did you think of the rabbis, how could we have done it differently, etc.)
Now, onto the naming. It was not very different from any other baby
naming we had attended. Gary and I were honored with an aliyah during
the Torah service. We brought the children up to the bimah and we recited
the blessing before the reading of a section (I think it was the third,
shlishi). After the reading, the rabbi said the specific blessings for
naming a child, bestowed the Hebrew names we had selected on Justin and
Tali, and gave us certificates to commemorate the occasion. The only part
that was different was that when Gary and I said a few words, we included
some references to adoption.
We gave Justin the name Natanayl Baruch, blessed gift of G-d. We said
that he was a special gift to us, from G-d and from the two people who
gave him life. (Justin's birthfather attended the ceremony, so we were
especially happy that he heard that part.)
We named Tali after Gary's Grandmother Taube and Uncle Robert, of blessed
memory. We pointed out some of their characteristics that Tali has. We
said that we always hoped to remember that our children are unique individuals
who will learn from our example and that of our extended family and friends,
but who will also bring to our family the talents and abilities that come
from their genetic heritage. Then we said what we wished for them, as
all parents do, happiness, health, satisfying relationships, and a life
of good deeds and loving kindness. The congregation sang "Siman Tov,
Mazel Tov," we did the blessing after the Torah reading, and sat
down, without a dry eye in the house!
After services there was a reception. It was wonderful to be there with
our family and friends, to see our parents kvell, and the children so
excited. The emotional tenor of the day was like that of our wedding.
Lots of hugging and crying and telling stories at the house afterwards.
We're not sure how much of it Justin really comprehends (Tali didn't understand
it at all except that she was the center of attention for a while), but
we think the photos, the certificates, and the cards and notes people
sent will be important for them to look back on when they're older. Hopefully,
as their understanding of adoption and Judaism grows, they'll look back
on this first milestone ceremony and link it to the other milestone ceremonies
in their lives.
One recommendation we would have about doing it differently is not to
wait. In retrospect, the "tafat dam," the mikvah dunk, everything
that was halachically possible to do earlier we should have done earlier
so it wouldn't have been so upsetting for the kids. We kept joking that
compared to what they had been through before, the naming was a piece
of cake--they even got to stay dry and keep their clothes on!
If anyone would like to talk to us more about our experience, please
contact us through STAR TRACKS.
Debra Goldstein Smith, A.C.S.W. is the Director of the National Adoption
Information Clearinghouse
5640 Nicholson Lane, Suite 300,
Rockville MD 20852,
(301) 231-5612;
FAX (301) 984-8527.
This article was written for STAR TRACKS in 1994.
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