Christie Signs Bill Opening Adoption Records

But birth parents have until end of 2016 to redact their info.

New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie plans to sign a bill that would allow access to birth records for people adopted in the state,” AP reports. “Birth parents of children adopted before Aug. 1, 2015 would have until the end of 2016 to request their names be removed from the birth certificates.” Parents of children adopted after that date won’t have the option of redacting  their names.

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  • Laurel

    Gov Christie did not get it right. He is punishing women and taking choices away from women who would choose to give a child a chance at life. Why he changed his view from his first conditional veto is questionable.

    No one should choose adoption. You don’t know what you are signing up for. You just might find 10 years from now you will be required to pay child support, contribute to college tuition or your family is being sued for an inheritance. That veto or no contact taken away. Who knows, the law can change retroactively. That 80 year old women sitting in a nursing home had no idea the law could change and birth certificates opened decades later. Now she is forced to sign a veto have it notarized, fill out medical information on herself and family (without their permission) every 5 years or the birth certificate will be opened. Then when she dies the whole thing is dumped in her families lap they don’t get a no contact. Think twice about choosing adoption. As a relative to a birthparent (in her teens) who chose adoption thinking giving a child a chance at life while she gets to move on with her life she says she would have chosen abortion if she knew decades later her identity would be known. Be warned you don’t know how the law can change. Abortion done and over.

    Only 11% of adoptees in Oregon requested a birth certificate

    2.5% in Ill

    Less than 800 in RI

    Gov Christie is doing exactly what gov did in the 1950’s when gov’t said closed adoption is in the best interest of all. In order for a woman to choose adoption there has to be an option that is right for her. No one size fits all. Gov. CHristie’s sister might not be here if the birthmother knew her identity would be known decades later. In order for a woman to consider adoption there has to be an option that is right for the including.

    A woman can have an abortion and have privacy,

    She can dump a child at a safe haven and have privacy.

    But choose adoption, get the help from an adoption agency nope she doesn’t deserve privacy.

    For birthparents who want privacy there is a website that supports women of sexual assault and women who want privacy. They tell of their experience in an unwanted contact from an adoptee and gives advice.

    Pro Choice or Only Choice?

    By Philip Foley

    Not everyone believes that an unwanted pregnancy is always an occasion for celebration among family, friends, and community.

    Emily Letts had the courage to speak about her right to her own body through YouTube and dispel the gross misconception (no pun intended) of people like Governor Christie by stating:

    “My goal was to reach at least one woman, to make her breathe easier and to let her know that she is not alone,” Letts said. “My video is not about me. It’s about using my story as a jumping off point for conversation. Women do not need to be shamed into silence.”

    There will be no State social worker or predator adoptee showing up on Ms. Letts door in 30, 40 or 50 years.

    Critics of Ms. Letts choice should consider that her decision was less of a Pro Choice and more of an Only Choice since States are now opening once guaranteed Sealed Confidential Adoption records.

    Ms. Letts has claimed her personal power and is her own authority.

    Good for her.

    at 5:23 PM

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  • Laurel

    An Open Letter to Governor Chris Christie

    Dear Governor Christie,

    Hey there! Just wanted to thank you for signing that bill into law, you know, the one that will unseal confidential birth records and vilify the girls and women who suffered catastrophic, unwanted pregnancies and had the nerve to think they could keep that kind of thing secret. Thank you for exposing us to the public. I realize now that it’s for our own good. We’re pretty weak and we cry a lot, so we need a male with a strong arm to put us in our place. For a lot of us that’s what got us in the predicament originally. We’re accustomed to cowering.

    At first, Governor, I admit I was a little upset at you and your people for all the fist-pumping over the passage of this bill. I have always regarded celebrating a win at the expense of another’s agony as low-class, ignorant behavior. I see now that I must lighten up. I take life much too seriously. I must develop a better sense of humor for the absurd. I’m working on it.

    Which brings me to lemonade and one of your colleagues and how informed and eloquent she came off when she chastised impregnated rape victims that they will just have to make lemonade out of lemons. I assume she was chastising any girl or woman impregnated against her will, not just rape victims. Believe it or not, I do find humor in this. Same goes for your comments that—and I’m paraphrasing here—every pregnancy is a blessing. I’m coming to appreciate your comedic skills. Clearly those who call you a know-it-all bully are wrong. You’re just witty, as all politicians must be. Back in the days before rape was a crime, politicians used to joke that (potential) rape victims should just lie there and enjoy it. I laughed at that one, too.

    As an obedient, private citizen of the State of New Jersey, please allow me the honor of becoming the very first woman who endured a catastrophic pregnancy and was rescued by the confidential adoption process and promised anonymity to submit to your authority and confess all my secrets. I promise I will lie still and try to enjoy it. Even as a young girl I realized when I was beaten. Onto the lemonade.

    It’s a sad fact of my life that nobody wants to listen to me whine about my illnesses, aches and pains, general malaise, and obsessions, or rants about estranged family members, or complaints about my past. But now that I have you and your people who actually want to listen to my list of problems and grievances, my sadness has miraculously lifted. It’s a wonderful life when you can make lemonade out of rotten lemons. Thank you for this opportunity, Governor.

    First, about my personal history. I’ve already written the book, Woman In Hiding, A True Tale of Backdoor Abuse, Dark Secrets and Other Evil Deeds. The title says it all, but I’ll send it to you anyway. This will save all of us time so I can move on to the good stuff which is my fascinating family history you and your people are so obsessed with.

    I’m really excited about forking over the skinny on my family heritage for public consumption. Never before have I had the opportunity to air all this dirty laundry to such attentive ears. Again, thank you. I know you and your people will be impressed that I am related to rapists, a pornographer, a pedophile lesbian, drunkards (sorry, politically incorrect term for alcoholics), drug addicts, sex addicts, thieves, con-artists, kidnappers, child abusers, sex abusers, physical abusers, elder abusers, regular run-of-the-mill abusers, predators, stalkers, pathological liars, and a would-be-murder (unfortunately, the two attempts failed). It would take too much space to go into full detail here. But do send your people by. I’ll be delighted to provide them with full names and complete addresses and in the case of the deceased, directions to their final resting places. I think, as you do, that every skeleton must be dug up. Plus, I could use the psychological counseling you’ve offered. Ever since I worked at a state-run mental institution I’ve been overjoyed by the competence of state social workers. Of course, it took me a while to get over my fox-in-the-henhouse worry, but then I started thinking about lemonade and decided that I can trust you and your people. I think the Valium helped.

    Anyway enough about my relatives and more about ME! and my problems. I confess that I think I might have Multiple Sclerosis. But it could be Guillain-Barre Syndrome. I’m not sure if I inherited either of these conditions, so I thought I should mention them. I consulted Reader’s Digest about my symptoms and confirmed them on the internet. The numbness in my foot has nothing to do with the fact that a board fell on it and the fact that I did not receive proper attention and sympathy for my pain. I am glad that you and your people take me seriously. I am sure I am suffering from a dread disease and not just a bruise.

    Also, I am an old lady. I’ve suffered many diseases over my life. Cancer. Gout. Diabetes. Heart Disease. Chronic Fatigue. And Polio, just to name a few. I think just to be sure, you and your people should check “all of the above” on my official medical records. That all of these maladies were figments of my over-active imagination do not make them any less scary. Reader’s Digest and the internet are trusted diagnostic tools. I use them frequently. Recently I had a rash. I was sure it was skin cancer. But I got top-notch advice from one of those medical websites. Gnat bites! Who knew? But one can never be too careful.

    Currently I am dealing with occasional headaches. According to Reader’s Digest I probably have a brain tumor. Or maybe migraines. Or an allergy to milk chocolate. Or sensitivity to pollen. But they might be due to aggravation caused by the aforementioned relatives. I haven’t had a chance to verify anything on the internet yet. I’ll let you know for sure. But if the brain tumor thing ends the way I think it will, my husband will contact you so you can update my records. I wouldn’t want to cheat you and your people out of my five year check in.

    Forgive me Governor, because I am so embarrassed to tell you and your people this, but I realize that I am obligated. I suffer from low estrogen. Which probably explains the mustache. And the limp. But not the harelip. According to my family the harelip is a genetic deformity passed down by imbeciles. Again, sorry about the politically incorrect term, but that’s what my family calls the deformed imbeciles they keep locked-up in their attics. I blame flimsy locks for all the inbreeding.

    What has me confused, though, are my crossed eyes. I have no idea where they came from. Not that there aren’t advantages to being cross-eyed. If we were to meet, Governor, I’d see two of you. How great is that?

    As long as I’m giving an official confession, I better tell you this: I see ghosts. I always thought I was nuts. But according to reality TV, I’m just psychic. I don’t want to cause you and your people any trouble or force you to do something you hadn’t planned on, but could you create a slot on your official forms for this sort of thing? I understand if you can’t. If you have to, just list me as nuts. It fits in pretty well with the rest of my relatives.

    One more thing, Governor. I’m genetically disposed to fat. I feel so close to you because I know we have this in common. I know my being a fat lady had nothing to do with cupcakes and bread. That fat gene was a direct deposit from the rapist side of my ancestry. Oh, did I tell you that I’m adopted? That I’m a spawn of a rapist? Those darn rapists ruin everything, don’t they? At least my Rapist Daddy could’ve had the decency to be skinny.

    About my Rapist Daddy. Now that you’ve unsealed those pesky confidential records, I think I might do some sleuthing around. My Rapist Daddy is probably…what?…ninety now? I better hurry if I’m gonna’ find out where all my fat came from, not to mention my crossed eyes. I’m sure the old man and his old, fat, cross-eyed children will be thrilled to hear from me. I can’t wait to tell those kids that our daddy is a rapist.

    Good luck to you, Governor. Congrats on your courage in signing that bill. Don’t worry about all those old ladies hanging out there twisting in the wind. They’re half dead anyway. Trust me—like I trust you and your people—they’ll never know what hit them.

    I’ll keep in touch!
    Kathleen Hoy Foley