Review of The Limits of Hope: An Adoptive Mother's Story (Hardcover)

This book is very disturbing. It is certainly disturbing in the way it was intended to be, as it details the problems experienced by a fatally idealistic family and their two adopted daughters who came from a background of abuse and neglect. One must, of course, condemn the fact that the family was kept in ignorance of the girls' problems. This is explained as a product of the time, in which everyone involved in adoption is described as believing that a loving family is all that is needed to heal even the most severely abused. Now such secrecy would be criminal; 30 years ago it is still an indication of inexcusable ignorance on the part of all the adults involved in the process. The truly disturbing aspect of the book for me, however, is the attitude of its author, the girls' adoptive mother. Although she claims her daughters and the rest of the family were abused by the system, she seems not to see the significance of her own failures. She admits much that must be painful to admit; for example, she sees in retrospect that the two newcomers were always seen as separate in important ways from her already-formed family of two parents and three children. Does she understand how truly awful that must have been for the girls, how lonely it must have been always on the outside, how terrifying to encounter expectations they couldn't possibly live up to? The insensitivity of the mother to her daughters' problems is mind-boggling, never mind that it happened 30 years ago. With all allowances for the difficulties she encountered trying to parent these troubled children--and I would not try to minimize that--she still falls short in understanding that they are the true victims. Instead one has a sense that too much of her rage is on her own behalf: rage that *she* didn't get the support she needed, rage that the girls turned out to be much for difficult for *her* than she expected. It is quite painful to read her monotonous detailing of the girls' delinquent and self-destructive behavior, not only for the obvious reasons, but especially because of the eager tone in which she recounts the outrages and how difficult it was for her to deal with them. She has yet to reach the point where she understands that, whatever her sufferings, those of the girls have been worse, because the destruction is of them, because they entered the family with various handicaps and with no resources to deal with these, and because they were the children and she was the adult. I guess I cannot contradict her claim to love them deeply, but I would like to see her gain a better understanding of their pain and see how her own must take a back seat to theirs. Of course she has been cheated of a normal mother-daughter relationship with them, but life has cheated them of much, much more.



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