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I often find myself skeptical when someone describes a book as “important.” It gets thrown around a lot, especially with books that touch on social justice in some way. And yet, if I had to pitch Relinquished by Gretchen Sisson to somebody in a single sentence, “timely and important” would likely be the main descriptors in that sentence.
Relinquished: The Politics of Adoption and the Privilege of American Motherhood is a decade-long study of private adoption in the United States that highlights a perspective we don’t often consider – that of the birth mothers. Until this book, I have to admit that I never noticed how little we consider the perspective of relinquishing parents, which is quite strange. Media representations largely rely on stereotypes of birth mothers or focus solely on the needs and desires of adoptive parents. More and more, we also talk about the impact adoption has on adoptees (the conversations on #adoptiontok come to mind), but even that is a fairly recent development.
@karpoozy Replying to @j.d2549 #adopted #adoptioneducation #adoption #adopteetiktok #fyp
♬ original sound – Karpoozy🍉
This is why I appreciated how this book is structured: a chapter exploring some aspect of adoption, and then one or two profiles sharing someone’s story, in their own words, directly from Sisson’s interviews. (I particularly recommend the audiobook for this reason, as there is a different narrator for each birth mother, which adds a more intimate quality to the reading experience.) By choosing to present their stories in this way, we get to confront the fact that adoption is a complex and layered experience full of conflicting feelings. There is some relief, sure, but there is also a lot of grief, guilt, and regret.
There are countless reasons a specific person might choose to relinquish their child, but more often than not, it comes down to feeling like they don’t have much of a choice at all. With that in mind, it becomes clear that there is an inherent power imbalance present in the way adoption is currently structured in the U.S.
This brings me to another reason I loved this book: Sisson does not shy away from calling out that power imbalance. In fact, she uses this fact to look at adoption through an intersectional lens, which I was not at all expecting from a book written by a white woman (no offense!). This is where the research really shines, because it paints a very clear picture about the current state of adoption, who benefits from it, who is potentially exploited or misled, and what is not working within this system.
Sisson began her research before the Dobbs decision overturned Roe v. Wade, which is obviously not something she could have predicted. Still, this adds an urgency to the book that might not have been there otherwise. And this urgency is important because, as she reminds us over and over again, adoption is not the straightforward alternative to abortion that so many like to claim it is.
This book is well-researched, well-written, and easy to understand. I have only one gripe, which is that I wanted a greater focus on reproductive justice right from the start. Sisson spends a good portion of the final chapter discussing reproductive justice – the history, the framework, the value in addressing adoption more explicitly within the movement, etc. Because of the book’s blurbs and synopsis, I could surmise that it was heading in a direction that would at least touch on reproductive justice, but reproductive justice often gets conflated with the reproductive rights movement, and I am not convinced that people will walk away from this book fully understanding the difference. I can appreciate that people who come to this book from a pro-life position might be somewhat hesitant if this is introduced right away, as they might think the book is not for them. But if you’re going to be discussing adoption abolition by the end anyway, might as well open strong, you know?
Who Should Read This Book
I am going to assume that anybody who has made their way to this book review is not of the opinion that their personal values and beliefs should dictate what others do with their bodies.
That said, I understand that there are people who are fine with others having abortion access but feel strongly that they would not choose abortion for themselves or who see adoption as a viable – even preferable – alternative to abortion. If this is you or someone you know, this book has a lot to offer. It might not change your position, necessarily, but it is important to be clear on what you are advocating for and the impact that has on others. I suggest reading this book as a companion to Undue Burden: Life and Death Decisions in Post-Roe America by Shefali Luthra which we discussed earlier this year.
Quite honestly, I have a hard time thinking of a demographic who wouldn’t benefit from reading this book.
For anyone considering adopting a child, it is a must-read. For anyone considering putting a child up for adoption, also a must-read. For anyone with a vested interest in reproductive justice and the future of abortion access in the U.S., absolutely a must-read. For anyone who knows someone in one of these camps, it is at the very least an interesting and worthwhile read.
My Final Thoughts
I have a feeling that Relinquished is a book that will stay with me for a long time. It gave me a lot to think about and has already prompted many conversations in my life. Plus, as someone whose academic background is social science research, I absolutely love a book with a section on methodology, copious footnotes and endnotes, and a clear definition of terms.
I sincerely hope you get a chance to read this book and share it with others who might find it valuable.
