- A Question of Trust
- Intro: The Birth of a Blog
- You and Me Could Write a Bad Romance: Part I
- Bad Romance, Part II: The Couch
- Bastard Package #1
- Hallelujah
- Born This Way
- Baby Girl X
- Another Victim of Love
- True Life
- The Girls Who Went Away
- Love and Other Drugs
- 11 Things Adoptees Love to Hear
- Uh, Never Mind
- Adoptee Kid Lit
- Bastard Princess and the Search for the Holy Grail
- MYOFB
- Awkwardness
- Baby Steps
- Faith, Hope, and Catholic Charities
- Special Delivery
- Green-eyed Monster
- !@#$
- Pandora
- Fantasyland
- Adoptees You May Have Heard Of
- Big MAC Attack
- Material Girl
- VISA and Mastercard Accepted
- Don't Hold Your Breath
- Our Love is Like a Constipated Cat
- A Question of Trust
- Adoption, Hollywood Style
- All in the Family
Adoption, Hollywood Style
Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. Madonna. Diane Keaton. Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. Sheryl Crow. Sandra Bullock. Calista Flockhart. All abnormally beautiful, wealthy, and famous folks who, for whatever reason, have chosen to adopt parentless babies (usually infants rather than older kids) instead of (or in addition to) having their own biological children. My mom once shared her disgust for famous adoptive celebs who apparently don’t have to play by the same Adoptopoly rules as the other childless folks down here on Earth, and I can’t say I blame her. In case you don’t have a pulse, you may not have noticed yet that I’m a cynic, but I’ll bet at least a few of you share my frustration.
I’ve noticed that the Hollywood set seems to get an unofficial Go to the Head of the Line card. First, in cases of open adoptions in which the biomom chooses her baby’s new parent(s), it doesn’t require a PhD in psychology to figure out why celebrities come out ahead--it’s certainly hard to beat the überprivileged A-list lifestyle they can offer a baby, as well as the prospect of exciting contact with famous folks and photos of your now-famous baby in the tabloids. Hell, if I were naïve, single, pregnant, and unable to keep my baby, I’d probably go for it hook, line, and sinker, too. In addition, the wealthy are probably more likely to acquiesce to the Biomom’s various demands and requirements, no questions asked. (I’ve seen those reality TV shows on adoption in which desperate prospective parents pray that their material trappings, catalogued in elaborate scrapbooks, will be enough to seduce a single mom into choosing them to raise her child.)
In case you didn’t know, it’s OK to be a single adoptive parent as long as you’re a fabulously rich celebrity. In fact, you’ll also be instantly catapulted to the top of the wait list. I’m sure all you legally and otherwise committed couples—heterosexual or not—who can provide two loving parents (sans nanny platoon) and a stable lifestyle, however lacking in absurd wealth, won’t mind giving up your spot in line. Otherwise loving, mentally and financially stable single parents also have been denied the privilege of parenthood…so how do the rich and famous manage it?
And how do they so deftly circumnavigate the red tape involved in adopting from foreign countries such as China and Africa? One of my friends and her husband have been wrestling with ridiculous Vietnamese red tape for years in trying to adopt a 3-year-boy from an overcrowded, undersupported orphanage.
So maybe my complaints are directed more at The Adoption Machine than at the celebrities themselves—unless, of course, we’re talking about professionally skinny and busy famous women who adopt in order to avoid pregnancy pounds or career delays, or as a desperate bid to garner several years’ worth of media attention.
With that said, I naturally wonder whether celebrities have access to personal baby shoppers (though I doubt that’s what they call themselves). Other high-end service providers such as personal assistants, chefs, stylists, agents, party planners, and nannies circulate in celebrity circles, so why wouldn’t the rich and famous refer “certain” especially accommodating adoption agencies to each other, too? Somehow I have a hard time seeing them marching into DCFS or Catholic Charities and asking to be treated like everyone else (Sandra Bullock may be the exception). It makes sense to me that celebs would feel more comfortable dealing with people who cater to them and their “special” needs—wouldn’t you? After all, who has time to wait around for a baby like--ack--regular people? There are red-carpet events to attend and surgical enhancements to undergo, for God’s sake!
I’ve noticed that the Hollywood set seems to get an unofficial Go to the Head of the Line card. First, in cases of open adoptions in which the biomom chooses her baby’s new parent(s), it doesn’t require a PhD in psychology to figure out why celebrities come out ahead--it’s certainly hard to beat the überprivileged A-list lifestyle they can offer a baby, as well as the prospect of exciting contact with famous folks and photos of your now-famous baby in the tabloids. Hell, if I were naïve, single, pregnant, and unable to keep my baby, I’d probably go for it hook, line, and sinker, too. In addition, the wealthy are probably more likely to acquiesce to the Biomom’s various demands and requirements, no questions asked. (I’ve seen those reality TV shows on adoption in which desperate prospective parents pray that their material trappings, catalogued in elaborate scrapbooks, will be enough to seduce a single mom into choosing them to raise her child.)
In case you didn’t know, it’s OK to be a single adoptive parent as long as you’re a fabulously rich celebrity. In fact, you’ll also be instantly catapulted to the top of the wait list. I’m sure all you legally and otherwise committed couples—heterosexual or not—who can provide two loving parents (sans nanny platoon) and a stable lifestyle, however lacking in absurd wealth, won’t mind giving up your spot in line. Otherwise loving, mentally and financially stable single parents also have been denied the privilege of parenthood…so how do the rich and famous manage it?
And how do they so deftly circumnavigate the red tape involved in adopting from foreign countries such as China and Africa? One of my friends and her husband have been wrestling with ridiculous Vietnamese red tape for years in trying to adopt a 3-year-boy from an overcrowded, undersupported orphanage.
So maybe my complaints are directed more at The Adoption Machine than at the celebrities themselves—unless, of course, we’re talking about professionally skinny and busy famous women who adopt in order to avoid pregnancy pounds or career delays, or as a desperate bid to garner several years’ worth of media attention.
With that said, I naturally wonder whether celebrities have access to personal baby shoppers (though I doubt that’s what they call themselves). Other high-end service providers such as personal assistants, chefs, stylists, agents, party planners, and nannies circulate in celebrity circles, so why wouldn’t the rich and famous refer “certain” especially accommodating adoption agencies to each other, too? Somehow I have a hard time seeing them marching into DCFS or Catholic Charities and asking to be treated like everyone else (Sandra Bullock may be the exception). It makes sense to me that celebs would feel more comfortable dealing with people who cater to them and their “special” needs—wouldn’t you? After all, who has time to wait around for a baby like--ack--regular people? There are red-carpet events to attend and surgical enhancements to undergo, for God’s sake!