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Has The Cradle touched your life in any way? Feeling inspired to share your connection? Submit your story to be considered for inclusion in our Faces of The Cradle gallery.
It doesn’t matter how far along you are—it’s never too early or too late to reach out to us. When you’re ready, we can set up a time for you to meet with one of our counselors, at a place convenient to you.
Your Cradle Counselor will serve as your guide throughout your home study, educational workshops, and placement. Our commitment to you is lifelong—we want your child and your family to thrive.
The Cradle hosts webinars, courses and workshops to help families, professionals and community members increase their understanding of adoption and parenting.
It doesn’t matter how far along you are—it’s never too early or too late to reach out to us. When you’re ready, we can set up a time for you to meet with one of our counselors, at a place convenient to you.
Your Cradle Counselor will serve as your guide throughout your home study, educational workshops, and placement. Our commitment to you is lifelong—we want your child and your family to thrive.
The Cradle hosts webinars, courses and workshops to help families, professionals and community members increase their understanding of adoption and parenting.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Learn about some of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Click on the buttons below to filter the stories by category. Hover your cursor over the videos and photos in our Faces of The Cradle gallery to see more detail, play a video, or listen to an audio story.
When Patricia and Kenneth C. Crannell Sr. started exploring adoption in their home state of Massachusetts nearly six decades ago, it didn’t go so well at first.
“My dad had polio,” says their son, Kenneth “Chuck” Crannell Jr. “Back in the sixties, that made for an interesting adoption situation. My parents were concerned that adoption agencies wouldn’t look beyond my dad’s [disability], and that proved to be true of some [agencies].”
Ken Sr., a professor of speech at Emerson College in Boston, got accepted into a Ph.D. program at Northwestern University in Illinois. When he and Pat moved to Evanston, they began to explore their options for adopting in Illinois. The couple soon learned about The Cradle.
The Cradle looked beyond Ken’s disability to see what kind of father he would be and accepted their application.
“They filed their paperwork and nine months later, on November 28, 1964, they [adopted] me,” Chuck says. In July 1967, Chuck’s parents adopted his sister, Tracy, through The Cradle, and the family returned to the east coast.
Chuck has known his wife, Martha, since they were kids. Even before they were engaged, they talked about having kids of their own one day. When they were unable to conceive a child and fertility treatments failed, they shifted their focus to adoption without hesitation.
“Adoption was always at the forefront of our thoughts about family, right from the start,” Martha says. “Chuck and I agreed that there are different routes to building a family, so we said, let’s do it!”
Chuck and Martha lived in Massachusetts at the time, and while The Cradle is licensed to complete adoptions in Illinois, an exception was made because Chuck is a Cradle adoptee. He and Martha completed their home study in May 2008, took online courses through Adoption Learning Partners, and then traveled to Evanston in August 2008 to participate in the required, all-day “Adoption 101” class. That November, just before Martha’s 20th high school reunion, they went on the adoptive parent waiting list.
“It was the big news at the reunion,” Martha recalls.
Martha and Chuck waited a long time until they were matched with their son. Chuck describes the nearly three-year wait as “a rollercoaster.” Their profile was pulled by birth parents six times, but unlike Cradle families who were local, they couldn’t easily arrange to meet with birth parents. They did, however, make it clear in their profile that they would be willing to return to the Chicago area yearly to visit with a birth family.
Seven was the lucky number. When Martha and Chuck got the call from The Cradle that they had been selected by the birth parents of a baby boy, they had only one week to make arrangements and fly to Chicago. Baby “Jonathan” had already been born and was staying in the Nursery. Martha and Chuck decided to name him Kenneth Jonathan Crannell and call him Casey, from his initials K.C.
At the entrustment ceremony — where they met the birth parents for the first time — Martha and Chuck discovered some of the reasons why they had been chosen. “They think Chicago can be a scary place, and thought that our home looked like a safe environment to raise a little guy,” Martha says.
“We also mentioned that we loved to travel and would be taking him places,” Chuck adds. The couple enjoys hiking and camping and fostered the same love of the outdoors in their son.
The fact that Chuck was also adopted through The Cradle helped solidify the birth parents’ decision. “The birth mom really liked the fact that we will be able to talk to Casey about what it’s like to be adopted,” Martha says. “She said to us, ‘You’re really going to understand.’”
“They met me and said, ‘Oh, he’s normal,’” Chuck says with a laugh. “When questions come up for Casey, it’s easier to answer him, because he knows that his dad is adopted too.”
Casey’s placement day was June 16, and Martha and Chuck stayed in Chicago for another week until all the necessary court papers were filed. While their extended family had to wait awhile to meet Casey in person, Chuck and Martha introduced him right away through Skype and phone calls.
“We talked to my parents on the phone and Casey was in one of his fun little moods, babbling,” Chuck recalls. “I just held the phone up to him for them to hear. Then we got the video chat going, and they were both glued to the screen.”
“They were ridiculously happy,” Martha says. Casey was the first grandson for the senior Crannells and the first grandchild on Martha’s side.
Reflecting on his hopes for his son, Chuck recalls simply hoping that Casey would “go wherever his passion takes him.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
When I found out I was pregnant, it was not a happy moment for me. I was already a mom to three young children and I was no longer with the baby’s father. Added to that, I had a full time job and was working towards my Masters degree in social work. I knew that I was not in a position to parent another child.
Once the shock wore off, I started researching options. I was intent on keeping the pregnancy and baby a secret from my friends and family; I just didn’t want to have to deal with going public with my situation.
A social worker suggested that I consider working with The Cradle and called them for me. My Cradle counselor met with me and quickly dispelled the myths I had surrounding working with an agency. You see, I was afraid working with an agency would be too public for me. I was afraid that I would be forced into an open adoption and I didn’t want that. I learned during that first conversation with my counselor that I was wrong. Adoption could be as private as I wanted it to be.
After that meeting, I went home and researched The Cradle’s website and paperwork. While I didn’t think I would want to have anything to do with the adoptive family, the more I looked at the profiles and considered prospective parents from The Cradle, the more I liked the idea of selecting the family and, maybe, even staying in touch. I chose a great couple with whom I had a lot in common. They are traditional and artsy, just like me. When we met, it just felt so natural to talk with them. They even chose a name for the baby — Harper — that has special significance to me. It felt like fate. I knew then that my daughter will have a good life with them and it will be easy for me to stay connected to that family.
I realized that I didn’t need to fear open adoption. Once I learned how it actually worked, I couldn’t be more pleased with the result. I now see Harper and her adoptive parents four times a year, and we communicate monthly via text or email. Even though this regular contact is grounded in my love for her, it’s strengthened by my friendship with her adoptive parents. We all live in Chicago, and we all share a love of art, music, culture and travel.
Looking at the two of them now, I’ve never seen a couple so genuinely pleased to be parents. They used to have a carefree lifestyle, and now their house is stocked to the brim with bins full of toys and books. They’ve raised Harper to be an extremely happy, well-adjusted child. She has friends from all walks of life — all genders, races and sexual orientations. She has a family who adore her. She has uncles and two sets of grandparents who fly more than 1,000 miles regularly to see her. She has the household stability that I couldn’t give her, and I couldn’t be happier.
This story was originally published in 2010. In 2023, The Cradle got a chance to reconnect with Rachel to hear an update on her story. Harper is now 14 years old.
I think you go into [open adoption] with this idea of what it’s going to be, and it can evolve into something different that you didn’t anticipate. Some things are good, and some things are definitely a challenge.
When someone gets older and they start grappling with difficult questions, then be ready to answer those from a very honest place and be prepared for the harsh responses you may get. I think for me, the only change is practicing self-care in that area. Don’t shy away from therapy yourself and be ready to process those things. It’s not easy.
Caring for myself as I address questions has been my biggest thing as an area of growth and mindfulness. Don’t think it’s going to always be this cute relationship. [Harper and I] still have one — it’s more one-on-one. Like so many young people, we text quite often and do a check-in. I prefer her to take the lead. I try not to be pushy on the relationship and always leave the door open if she ever needs anything.
I have an amazing relationship, something you would even call a friendship, with Harper’s parents. We talk quite often, but it’s not even necessarily about Harper. We talk just about the Cubs and Chicago and life and jobs, and so on.
We have, in partnership, navigated the challenges of two white, cisgendered gay men raising a black, teenage girl who’s working through being adopted. I think we’ve done a really good job as a unit to navigate those things as a united front, and for me to be an integral part of her journey. And I’ve gotten married since, so the four of us have done a really good job of navigating it together, just always trying to make the best decisions for Harper.
For me, it was a good thing. Was it a hard decision? Absolutely. I don’t think anyone approaches that decision lightly. Sometimes the most selfless decision you can make is to go down that path. It was one of those tough questions and one of those hard truths that Harper made me face. I still stand by that decision, and I still continue to feel confident that as she grows and continues to develop and has a better understanding of life that she will understand that as well.
I would recommend going through the Cradle. The support and the continued support, even now, has been great. I never felt that the decision wasn’t mine to be made. I never felt pressured. I would feel supported and given resources no matter what avenue I took.
I would also implore potential adoptive parents or a birth parent to allow room for flexibility. You should not go into [adoption] with a rigid idea of what this is going to look like, what this relationship is going to look like. Understand that life is going to happen; things are going to change for you.
It does get easier. I know those first days and months you think about it and reflect on ‘What if I would have made a different choice?’ It definitely gets better. Life goes on and you adjust. That does not take away any love or care. But you come to terms with your personal growth that this was in the best interests of everybody.
There are things that I have gone on to accomplish that I could not have done. And there are things that Harper has accomplished and been exposed to and been a part of because of the loving extended circle of amazing people that would not have happened. I think we all are a little better because of the decisions that we have made.
Understand that there is a support system of people who have been through this journey, who you can reach out to, if needed. Tap into those resources. Tap into that network. Build community around those who have made a similar decision. That was key for me — to talk to other people who have been further in their journey, and now I can have that conversation with people and pay it forward.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
“It wasn’t until I started my journey to understanding my adoption and more that I truly understood how amazing The Cradle truly is. The post adoption services were key for me to getting the information I could get. It wasn’t until I made the trip from Florida to The Cradle and got the tour, that really hit me. It was so emotional for me and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be a Cradle baby. I could go on and on, but knowing a place like the Cradle exists, gives me hope for the little babies like me to have a much better life.”
Diane Kane, Adoptee, Deltona, Florida
The following was written just prior to November 1, 2005, as I was planning to fly across the Atlantic to England to meet my birth sister for the very first time.
At the age of 55, I had decided to keep a promise I made to myself years before: to look for my birth mother. I felt there might be a chance that she was still alive. There was also a chance that even if she was alive, she may not want to meet me — but I was willing to take that risk.
Whatever the outcome, I needed to move forward on this journey with an open heart and an open mind, but with no expectations. So I drew a deep breath and called The Cradle to begin the reunification process.
When I contacted The Cradle, I was assigned to the agency’s director of post adoption support, Nina Friedman, who would be conducting my birth parent search. Nina spent time explaining the process, reviewing the information I would need to provide and helping me set expectations about what we may (and may not) find along the way.
Several weeks later, I received a call from Nina, who said she had good news and bad news. She told me she had discovered that my birth mother died in 1978. My heart sank — but just for a moment. Next, she told me I had a birth sister living in England.
While my hope of reuniting with my birth mother had ended in disappointment, I was so excited there was still a living connection to my birth family.
I would hear from Nina periodically over the next several months, updating me on the obstacles she was encountering or the progress she was making trying to contact my birth sister. Then, one very special day, Nina emailed me: “Good news. I have an address for your birth sister and a letter will be sent out to England today.”
“Heart be still. I can’t believe this,” I said to myself. My dream of finding my birth family was really coming true. It was so hard to believe after all this time.
Not many days later, Nina called with news that she had spoken to my birth sister, whose reaction had been, “Extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary!” She was willing to learn more about me and expressed that she was open to communication through The Cradle, including passing along my personal contact information.
As Nina relayed some of the information she was able to provide about my birth sister, one detail struck me stronger than the rest: My birth sister was an antiques dealer, and my birth mother had been one as well. I also buy and sell antiques, so this connection was especially meaningful —it was so nice to learn where my love of old things came from.
Nina agreed to forward a note to my birth sister, whose name I still did not know at this point. Several days later the phone rang and a voice with a very British accent said, “Hello, this is Olivia.”
I could not believe my ears. I was so excited I was nearly speechless. We talked for an hour and discovered that in addition to antiques, we had many other common interests.
Since that memorable day, we have exchanged a number of letters and phone calls, and we are slowly developing a relationship. It will not be long before I will meet my birth sister in person and make a connection with my heritage. That day will be the most important day of my life.
The Cradle has blessed me twice in my life. What can I say but, thank you, thank you, thank you!
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
“From the minute we walked into The Cradle’s doors for our first info session, Mike and I knew we were in the right place to start our family. It was a feeling deep down that you knew that they were going to take care of you from the very first minute, to when they found that perfect match for your family.”
Taryn Keblusek, Adoptive Parent, Lombard, Illinois
It was a hot day in the Philippines, just like most days, but Monica Williams’s hands were cold and clammy. After a year and a half of classes, paperwork and waiting, she and her husband Jeff were going to have a beautiful child of their own to take home to Chicago. The look of shock on her face mirrored her thoughts: it was all so surreal.
Monica and Jeff hadn’t followed the typical formula. First they bought a house, then went on their honeymoon and finally got married. After the wedding, the two barely took a breath before they began to think about children. “Jeff and I really wanted a family to share our lives with,” Monica says. Adoption seemed like the natural choice to them, as did adopting from the Philippines. Monica is half Filipino, and she and Jeff both shared an interest in learning as much as they could about the culture. The Cradle also appealed to them from the start. “We had a Cradle family connection through my side of the family,” Jeff says. “There was also overwhelmingly good feedback from the community as a whole. It was the obvious place to go.”
Unfortunately they moved a bit too fast, attending a Cradle information meeting before the mandatory year of marriage had passed. But as Monica says, “Everything happens for a reason.” The first time Monica and Jeff had looked into adopting from the Philippines, it required an extended wait. By the time they returned to The Cradle after being married a year, however, the restrictions had loosened. The couple was one step closer to their child.
Monica and Jeff worked with The Cradle to complete their pre-adoptive classes and home study, and in turn, The Cradle worked with an agency in Boston that facilitated the international adoption. As Monica explains, “The Cradle has such good working relationships with other agencies. They guided us through the whole process, and we never had to overthink anything. We could put our trust in our counselor completely.”
In October 2010, Jeff received the news that they had been matched with Aljur, an adorable one-year-old boy living in an orphanage in the Philippines. Both he and Monica were traveling, so the only communication he could get through to his wife was a text. “It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful news,” Monica says. There is a picture of the text Jeff sent Monica in their family album. Six months later, the Williamses were in the Philippines, ready to meet their son.
When Aljur was brought to them in the arms of his caregiver at the orphanage, she was in tears. “That’s when it hit me, how much he was loved there,” Monica recalls. Everything about that moment sticks in their memories. “Monica was playing with Aljur, and then he reached up so I could pick him up for the first time,” Jeff says. “He had this gigantic smile. It was a ‘light up the room’ kind of smile. That moment I felt as excited and emotional as I have ever been.”
The couple spent the rest of the day touring the orphanage. Aljur’s caregivers had taped up pictures of Monica, Jeff and their extended family in his crib so he could see them as he fell asleep each night. One photograph of Monica and Jeff was especially worn. “It was the picture he slept with every night,” Jeff explains. “That’s what he would think about as we were on our way.” That picture, along with monthly photos of Aljur taken by the orphanage and the hair saved by Aljur’s caretakers after his first haircut, are part of the family album as well.
The only hiccup came after the new family returned to the United States. For two weeks, Aljur had difficulty sleeping due to extreme jet lag. But otherwise, the rest of the transition went smoothly. Monica and Jeff welcomed their new son home, happily relishing this beloved addition to their family.
Aljur is now a bright and energetic teen who cracks his parents up on a regular basis. “I just laugh all the time!” exclaims Monica. He is also a natural traveler, taking in new sights with wonder and excitement alongside his parents. The family have gone back to the Philippines as well so he can have that connection with his birthplace and his heritage.
“I could talk all day about how wonderful my family is and how much Aljur is loved,” Monica gushes. “Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky we got.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
All things are relative, or so the saying goes. A good friend, whose children call me aunt, once said to me “There is the family we are born to and the family we choose — we choose you.” Not uncommon is the notion of adopting friends and calling them family. But when you actually are a person who was adopted, the idea of being chosen is even more special.
From as far back as I can remember, I knew I was chosen. My parents chose to have children and went through a mountain of processes and paperwork to form their family and become parents. The same was true for my sister who came before me. Both children of The Cradle, we were chosen, and a family we became. Growing up, we met our relatives, went to family reunions, loved and bickered, laughed and cried, sang and shouted and so on and so on, just like any other family. All the while knowing that adoption was the event that made us a family but wasn’t something to leverage love against, blame for injustice, create cause for uncertainty, provide reason to be the same or different or any other emotion and notion that can, at times, be associated with adoption. We were just a normal family, warts and all.
As life evolved, our parents continually affirmed their love and dedication all the while assuring us that we did indeed belong. The fact that we were adopted simply meant that our birth mothers were unable to parent us, not that we were unwanted or unloved. As a result of this simple and clear assertion, my sister and I grew up with a curiosity about our birth mothers/families without the pain of feeling an itch we couldn’t scratch or a void we couldn’t fill. We knew where we belonged and didn’t feel displaced or misplaced. Well, no more than any normal teenager who is sure that they were dropped into the wrong family by some cosmic mistake. Then again, don’t most teens feel that way at some point?
There was a certain comfort in the wholeness of it all and despite the parent/child disputes and debates that come with growing up, we were chosen and loved from the moment we became a family. Not all kids have this sense even if they were raised by their birth parents. We had a leg up on the world.
Then one day in our perfectly-not-so-perfect-normal lives, a realization came while attending a routine family reunion. Looking around the room, I realized all my dad’s relatives really did look alike, sound alike and had a whole host of similarities that my little nuclear family lacked. In a slow growing sense of clarity, I came to the simple and undeniable decision that these were my dad’s “people”, his relatives, not mine. The one clear fact of adoption is that resembling someone in your family is mere chance. Although we were all the same race, by some luck of the draw, our individual heights, weights and silhouettes clearly marked us as a blended family of adoption. So during this simple family reunion, a not so simple question took root. If these were my dad’s relatives, who were mine?
The “who do I look like” query is a common denominator of adopted persons. Knowing who you look like gives that extra boost of feeling like you belong more than if you don’t resemble anyone in your family. Despite my parent’s confidence and unwavering certainty of where I belonged, I couldn’t help longing to know who I looked like. This interest was fueled by the never ending questions by well-meaning passersby who often inquired “Does she look like your husband’s side of the family?”. My mom’s pat answer was “No, she looks like herself”. Sound and reassuring definitely, but a hair behind the eight ball planting a sliver of uncertainty into the garden of my life experience. As a result, I grew up quite interested in who I looked like even more than to whom I was related. The notion of love, loyalty and respect weighed heavy in accepting my parent’s affirmations. They raised me for better or worse and earned the right to be top in mind and heart. Being too interested in searching for birth families seemed an affront to my family. Yet somewhere along the way the curiosity factor never really went dormant for long.
Years after overcoming the divide between loyalty to home and hearth and acknowledging my own “relative” curiosities, I registered with The Cradle to see if I might be matched with a birth parent. With a no-match reply, I tucked away the curiosity back into its assigned compartment, went on with my life, met the man of my dreams and married. I no longer wondered where I belonged or cared about whom I looked like and instead planted my hopes on being able to start my own genetic family so someday I might see who I really looked like. So much for the feigned childhood confidence of knowing where I belonged; I found myself accepting that there was more of a void than I ever wanted to admit.
Just when I thought the look-alike and relative questions of my birth were behind me, a letter arrived informing me that the ‘no-match’ reply from years earlier was a clerical error and someone was actually looking for me. Someone who I might actually look like and was, by all basic definition, related to: my birth mother.
We talked on the phone, exchanged a few photos and emailed. The story of my birth was not pretty, steeped in secrecy during an era of propriety and filled with relatives holding a wide variety of interest in my presence on earth. Finally, seven years later, we scratched a seven year itch and planned to meet face-to- face. The experience of meeting someone halfway through your life that puts to bed the perennial look-alike question once and for all was, to say the least, weird.
She stared at me a lot, as did her sister, my aunt. An aunt, now there was another big idea to absorb since neither of my parents had siblings. Aunts were as absent in my life as knowing who I looked like. All of a sudden, in a split second meeting, I had relatives who I looked like.
The first meeting took place over a period of days where my birth mother and I were often labeled mother-daughter; another alien experience after decades of remarks about how unlike anyone I looked. At the close of the weekend we returned to our lives with no clear plan on how or where to go next. Unsure if this new circle should extend to either of our families, we left the weekend knowing we were in some way related. For now, we didn’t need any more of a definition than did my friend’s son while picking relatives to read prayers at his Bar Mitzvah. After his mom explained that we were not sisters or brothers to his parents he called us right away to say “I didn’t know we weren’t really related!” Suffice it to say, related or not, we proudly accepted our spot on the bima (the area in Jewish synagogues where the Torah is read during services) with his other relatives and shed the same tears of pride as did his “real” aunts and uncles.
So it really is “relative” after all! There is the family to whom we are born and the family we choose. My birth mother and I now get to choose how we want to be related and time will tell how blended our lives become.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
We hope you will enjoy these stories that embody the power of adoption and consider including The Cradle in your end of year giving plans to supporting families, like Beth, Dan and James, with their lifelong adoption journeys.
For parents Beth and Dan, The Cradle has been a central part of their adoption journey, which began more than a decade ago. When their son, James, was placed with them in 2010, they learned that his birth mother had placed other children, but none of the families had contact. “All of us had little bits and pieces of information,” Beth says, and she began seeking out more background information with help from The Cradle as James grew more curious about from where he came. This past year, Beth and Dan were connected with two other families sharing the same birth mother so James could meet his siblings. All parents now regularly email and talk, and their growing extended family are all gathering to create new holiday traditions this year.
The spirit of open adoption – in which birth and adoptive families know who each other are or have each other’s identifying information, with or without contact – looks different in every family and evolves over time. Beth says they have been able to navigate the ups and downs of limited birth mother contact, talking about adoption at home and more with the help of the diverse cohort of parents with whom they have stayed in contact since their Cradle waiting parents group all those years ago.
“The adoption journey doesn’t end at placement,” Beth says. “It is constantly a part of who you are and who your family is. It’s never a bad thing to revisit those relationships and to have that constant connection to The Cradle as a place to go back to.”
Sometimes, the best part of a journey is the knowledge that you have a safe and supportive place where you can return. As this year makes way for our plans for 2022, The Cradle looks forward to being there for the smiles, hugs, tears and milestones paving the adoption journeys that begin and continue at The Cradle.
Three out of five Americans are touched by adoption in some way. Our Cradle community makes it possible for us to offer a broader range of services to this population than most private adoption agencies will. Please consider making an 100% tax-deductible gift to The Cradle today in honor of your adoption connection.
Let me start at the beginning — my beginning. I was five weeks old in November 1977 when my parents adopted me from an agency in Evanston, Illinois, called The Cradle. My parents talk fondly of getting “The Call” and rushing to pick me up. I’m glad they didn’t think it was a Halloween prank because they got the call on Halloween!
People always ask me if I remember the moment when my parents told me about being adopted, but I don’t have a specific memory. I have always known that I was born to another family but adopted and raised in the Runkle household. What a truly amazing feeling to know that my parents desperately wanted a child and I was chosen both by them and by God to be in their family. I had a wonderful childhood and was spoiled rotten, getting nearly everything that I wanted, save for a Barbie pool — but that’s another story altogether. I had every advantage and was so grateful that my birth mother had been so unselfish in allowing another family to raise me.
Fast forward to October 29, 2010, when I was sitting in a fantastic little Italian restaurant called Mama Mia’s with my dad, enjoying lasagna for lunch, when my phone rang. I was expecting a call from my endocrinologist, so even though I was in the middle of the restaurant, I answered the call. It turned out to be Nina [Friedman] from The Cradle. I don’t remember every portion of the conversation, but I do remember her asking me if I was somewhere where I could talk. I probably should have called her back but I didn’t. Her call intrigued me and I wondered what was up so I stayed on.
She began by saying, “We’ve had a match on the mutual consent registry.” (The Mutual Consent Registry is a database where you can submit your name and contact information. If both the adopted child and the birth parent(s) register, the agency can put the parties in touch.) So, my first thought was that my birth mother was searching for me. Then, Nina says, “Well, it’s actually a very unique and interesting situation.”
She was speaking slowly so my first reaction was to think the worst, that someone had died or that someone was in jail. However, as Nina continued, she revealed to me that my birth mother, who was barely 16 when I was born, and my birth father had gotten married. And, to make the news all the more interesting, she told me that Debbie and Ed, their names(!), had three sons. These boys are my biological brothers. Nina kept asking me if I was ok, if I had anything that I wanted to tell the family and if it was ok for her to send me a letter that Debbie had written. I was in a bit of shock so I agreed to let her send me the letter and thanked her for the call. WOW! Now that was some information to absorb.
After receiving the letter, I found out more about my birth family. My birth siblings are called Robert, Jeff and Thom. Nice classic names! Fast forward a little bit and we began corresponding by email. I got emails from Ed and Debbie, and I also received e-mails from the boys. I learned so much about them in the first few weeks. It was overwhelming and exciting.
So, instead of being patient, I decided that we better make a trip to Chicago, where (most) of the Lorenty (that’s their last name!) clan call home. Peter and I made flight arrangements and begged his parents to watch the kids for a few days.
I am so blessed to have a wonderful father who has been so supportive of me conversing with and meeting my birth family. I know that his life partner, my mom, isn’t here anymore to bounce his feelings off of, which must be unbearably difficult. And yet, he is positive and encouraging of my new friendship with the Lorenty family. There truly is a God who listens and helps us through when we can’t do it ourselves.
Fast forward some more to December 29, 2010 and we were off to Chicago! I’m nervous and excited! I hope they like me. Friends on Facebook assure me that the family will love me but I still feel apprehensive. It turns out that I had nothing to fear. The family Lorenty is so welcoming and loving, I felt like a long lost friend. The boys and I get along very well and continue to talk on the phone and share photos of our children and dinner plates; the whole family appreciates a good meal and they all like to cook! It’s so very interesting to find out what we have in common and what things I may have learned from growing up with my mom and dad.
It’s the beginning of a great friendship!
If you’d like to learn more about Anne or chat with her about your own adoption experience, she would love to hear from you. Visit her personal blog.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
In addition to their three children, Mary Jo and Dale Rust looked to provide a caring home for children beyond their biological family. In 1985, the Rusts came to The Cradle to begin their adoption journey through the Center for African American Adoption (now the Sayers Center for African American Adoption). That year they adopted Dean, who was then followed by Donovan in 1988.
“Our older children loved them,” Mary Jo says. “We often say that Donovan’s feet never touched the ground until he was 4-years old because someone was always holding him. It was a remarkable experience.”
Though Dean and Donovan had physical and developmental challenges, the Rusts’ were aptly prepared to meet them head on thanks to their background in healthcare. Their older children also played a huge role in mentoring their adoptive siblings and it truly was a family affair to ensure the boys would feel loved and thrive.
And, of course, The Cradle stood alongside the family to support the children’s special needs and provide the Rusts with resources to empower their journey. The Cradle also facilitated the connection for the adoptive children’s birth relatives years later, fulfilling a birth mother’s dying wish for reconnection and another’s desire to have an open relationship.
The Rusts credit The Cradle for creating an open dialogue. The pair’s lives have since overflowed with support from birth and adoptive family and friends. These huge circles of love, unwavering acceptance and care improved their lives and touched everyone they encountered. “Like my husband says, these two are just the gift that keeps on giving,” Mary Jo notes.
Their extended families — birth and adoptive — have been so warm and welcoming that Dean and Donovan always will be well-cared for. They are independent, exemplary members of the Northbrook community where they have a wide circle of friends.
“I would do it again and again and again,” Mary Jo says. “[The adoption journey] has so enriched our lives.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Cradle adoptee and former Cradle Board member, Stuart White, says that when the agency placed him at six weeks of age — over 75 years ago — with a mother who was blind from birth, they took a carefully calculated risk. After just two visits to the Detroit home of prospective parents Margie and Gene White in the fall of 1947, The Cradle agreed that Margie was up to the task (The Cradle worked with adoptive families in multiple states at that time).
“Mothers at that time were viewed as having no boundaries to their abilities,” Stuart says. “Ruth McGee was the social worker assigned to my family. In doing the home visits, I’m certain she had many things to look for: Could this woman who was blind take care of me? Could she change my diapers? Prepare the food? Could she do all the things a person [without visual impairment] does without thinking twice? My dad had a company to run, so could my mother take on all of these challenges without another adult in the house?”
Years later, Margie told Stuart that although Ruth was reluctant at first, she quickly put her reservations to rest. “The Cradle discovered that my mother didn’t have boundaries,” Stuart says with pride.
It was because of his mom that Stuart decided to become more involved with The Cradle and increase his giving to the organization over the years — to honor the remarkable person she was.
Margaret Jean Cogsdill was born in 1920 with holes in her retinas — an irreparable condition. Her parents never thought of her as having a disability and encouraged her independence. She went to a public school in Detroit that had 80 kids in the classroom. When the family moved to a lakeside community, her parents gave her a canoe, which she paddled solo while her dog Brownie barked from the shoreline to guide her.
Her father, also named Stuart, introduced her to golf — a sport she played passionately until she was 81 — and he would reluctantly pull her behind a motorboat on the lake as she became an accomplished water skier. Margie was also an avid cross country skier — once competing in a Colorado race for skiers who were blind — as well as a skater, swimmer and fisher. The lake was her stage.
Margie earned a degree in economics from Mt. Holyoke College, regularly taking the train to and from Massachusetts on her own. In 1943, she married Gene White, whom she’d met at a party in Grosse Pointe. This was during World War II, and Gene was just days away from shipping out to the Aleutian Islands. The wedding took place in Everett, Washington, where he was stationed at the time.
During the war years, Margie worked at the Red Cross, took graduate classes at the University of Michigan and worked the switchboard at her father’s company, Cogsdill Tool Products.
Gene returned safely after the war and went to work with his father-in-law at Cogsdill. He and Margie adopted Stuart (named after his grandfather) in 1947. They adopted Stuart’s sister, Cindy, also a Cradle baby, in 1949. Two more children joined the family in 1958 and 1960 through an adoption agency in Michigan.
The Whites were always very open and honest with their children about adoption. “They would tell each of us, ‘You were loved, but your mother couldn’t take care of you and we found you. We chose you,’” Stuart says. Stuart recalls having a vivid imagination as a child and envisioning The Cradle, literally, as a giant cradle that held babies until they were taken out and brought home with a family.
“My mother taught us as little kids how to ride a bike, play golf, water ski and ice skate,” Stuart says. “She also taught us how to fish on the lake, and when we didn’t want to put the worm on the hook, she’d say, ‘Give me that,’ and put it right on. She had no fear about those sorts of things.”
Stuart attended DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana. On the first day of classes, he met a girl named Suzie who was also adopted, and who would go on to become his wife. While he was encouraged to join the family business upon graduation, he didn’t feel the corporate life calling to him. It was the late 1960s, and as a socially conscious person, Stuart decided instead to become a teacher. After earning a master’s degree from Syracuse, he and Suzie settled in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where Stuart taught middle and high school social studies until 2002.
Margie, meanwhile, was a very active volunteer, serving on numerous nonprofit boards and helping to found a teen center in her community. In 1962, she received the “Exceptional Woman of the Year” award from the Detroit Rotary Club. When Gene White passed away in 1973, Margie stepped in and assumed the chairmanship of Cogsdill Tool. The company relocated to Camden, South Carolina, in 1977, and a year later Margie married William Walters, Cogsdill’s new president.
By the summer of 1992 — after chairing Cogsdill for nearly two decades — Margie, then 72, told Stuart she was tired and wanted him to chair the company going forward. He agreed, and for the next 10 years, while he was still teaching, Stuart shuttled back and forth between Michigan and South Carolina.
In 1987, Stuart made his first visit to The Cradle since his placement 40 years prior. Ruth McGee was still with the agency at that time, and she talked with him about first visiting his parents’ home and how impressed she was by Margie.
Although Stuart didn’t return again until 2013, he came with a renewed interest. He describes The Cradle as “a place of dreams” and is quick to acknowledge what a wonderful life he’s had, thanks in large part to his adoptive parents.
“When it became easier for me to start donating, I did, and the reason I started was to honor Margie White,” Stuart says. “No doubt about it. All the issues she’d gone through — and what made me this OK person — needed some kind of return. Her memory was the reason.”
In addition to serving as chairman of Cogsdill Tool, Stuart also chaired the board of Washtenaw Technical Middle College, a Michigan public school academy that enables high school students to earn college credits. He and Suzie have two children, Megan and Caleb. When he joined The Cradle Board in 2014, he had the unique position as the only “Cradle baby” to be serving.
Margie died in April of 2009, a few months shy of her 89th birthday. The following excerpt from her obituary, written by Stuart, beautifully captures the essence of his incomparable mother:
“The awkward act of folding a contour sheet or cooking dinner for a family of six or putting a worm on the hook for her children in the boat adrift on Orchard Lake or shuffling a deck of cards prior to dealing them to the Bridge players at her table go a long way in explaining how gracefully Margie navigated in her sightless world. Her amazing mind cataloged volumes of data without visual cues. Her fearlessness in a perilous world inspired all who knew her.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
At The Cradle, no two adoption stories are ever the same. Cradle adoptee Scott Carneghi’s unique journey led him from southwest suburban Chicago to Los Angeles and a successful music career.
Scott was adopted from The Cradle in 1970. His sister Jayme, also a Cradle baby, joined the family in 1975. Both were closed adoptions, although adoption was never a secret for the Carneghi siblings.
Growing up in Joliet, Illinois, Scott spent much of his early childhood in and out of clinics, struggling with health issues. It was his doctor at the Mayo Clinic who suggested to Scott that he concentrate his extra energy on drumming. He took to the drums immediately, showing an innate talent. After graduating high school in just three years, Scott moved to Los Angeles at the age of 18 to pursue his musical aspirations.
There, Scott perfected his drumming skills and, in 1991, landed his first record deal. His busy musical career since then has included performing and recording with various rock bands, as well as writing and recording his own work.
In the midst of all his successes, however, Scott began to feel as if something was missing.
Scott and his father, Joe, a plumber with his own company, have always been very close and have a wonderful relationship. However, Joe was not as artistically inclined as his son, leaving Scott to always feel a little different. With the advent of the internet, Scott would search for adoption information as he grew up, though he never fully committed to reconnecting until a few years ago.
With a gentle push from his fiancée, Lindsay, Scott decided to call Nina Friedman, Director of Post Adoption Support at The Cradle. Nina facilitates birth relative searches and reunions.
“My lovely fiancée basically said, ‘Either you’re going to do it or you’re not,’” Scott recalls. “I was getting too old for this stuff; I had to figure out where I came from.”
Following an initial conversation with Nina in 2012, subsequent talks with her about the search process, and learning he had an older sister placed through another adoption agency, Scott was finally ready to move forward in the spring of 2015. Through confidential correspondence, Nina was able to connect with Scott’s birth aunt, Barb, who informed Nina that her sister, Scott’s birth mom, had passed away in 1998.
Barb had known about her sister’s pregnancy and adoption plan and had actually saved letters her sister had written to her during the pregnancy. Barb was thrilled to hear from The Cradle and was eager to connect with Scott to learn about him and share everything she could with him about her sister and their family, including that he had another sister who his birth mother had raised.
Scott and Barb first spoke in May 2015 over the phone. They clicked right away and she quickly introduced him to the rest of the family. He learned that he has a cousin, Barb’s son, with whom he shares some uncanny similarities. This cousin is also named Scott and a musician, but a bass guitar player, not a drummer.
“It feels good. Scary, you know,” Scott says of his reconnection. “It’s something I had to do, though. A piece of me was missing.”
In July 2015, Scott paid a visit to The Cradle during a trip home to spend time with his dad in Joliet. He told Nina that he planned to get together with his Aunt Barb and cousin Scott the following month in California.
After the visit, Scott emailed Nina to let her know the meeting went great. “It was everything I hoped for,” wrote Scott. “It’s a sense of closure, but it’s also opening up new and different avenues.”
Looking forward, Scott hopes to search for and connect with his birth sister and birth father and deepen his relationship with his birth mother’s family. “Contact with my biological family has been lovely,” Scott wrote to Nina in an email. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” Barb sent a note of thanks to Nina as well for “helping to enrich all of our lives.”
Read more about Scott and his music by visiting his website.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Terry counts July 12, 1946, as one of the luckiest days of his life. Only two months old at the time, Terry was adopted from The Cradle by Herman and Genevieve Hersperger. Three years later, his baby sister, Carren, was also adopted from The Cradle. He says, “I always felt special because my parents told us every night that we were chosen from The Cradle.”
Though both parents are now deceased, Terry says he loved his mom and dad dearly and is forever grateful for the wonderful life they gave him. He and his wife, Joan, have two children of their own. Son Stephen is a surgeon and daughter Janelle is an executive in commercial banking. “Being adopted gave me an extraordinary perspective on parenting my own children,” Terry says. “I had great role models in my adoptive parents.”
Herman and Genevieve were so grateful to The Cradle that they made a bequest in their will. Terry has done the same and stays in touch with Cradle staff regularly. “I was always proud to be a Cradle Baby and will do anything I can to support The Cradle and other adoptive families. I hope people will make donations on [events like] Giving Tuesday and I am happy to be one of the matching donors!”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Born in Chicago on July 26, 1935, Mary Mallon Nyman spent six weeks in The Cradle Nursery before going home with her parents, Emily and Horace Mallon. Two-and-a-half years later the couple adopted Mary’s brother, Michael, also from The Cradle. When Mary was a very young child, the family moved to Clarksville, Tennessee, where her father had taken a job.
The Mallons divorced when Mary was in second grade, and life became rather chaotic. Her mother fell ill, so the children were sent to live with their aunt and uncle in Massachusetts for a year. Emily recovered, and Mary was back in Tennessee for the start of the fourth grade. “I was a solitary kid — a loner,” she recalls, “But I liked to read and write. I spent an entire year reading fairy tales.” In the third grade, Mary composed a poem that was so well written that her teachers accused her of plagiarizing and later apologized when they realized their error.
When Mary was 14, her mother decided to pursue a Master’s degree at the Sorbonne in Paris, taking the children with her. Mary had the unique experience of living with a French family and spending her freshman year of high school abroad — the first several months at the American School of Paris and the last three at the Lycée de Sèvres. It was also in France that Mary’s artistic interests began to develop, as Paris offered her a wealth of wonderful subjects to draw. Upon returning to Clarksville, Emily got a job teaching French while Mary attended the local public high school for the next two years. She spent her senior year at the National Cathedral School in D.C., graduating in 1953.
Mary went on to earn a B.A. in English from Wheaton College in Norton, Massachusetts. “I was very happy there,” she says. “I was co-editor of the literary magazine and took every art class offered.” In graduate school at Boston University (BU), Mary landed an assistantship in the Department of English, studying with Pulitzer Prize winner and former Poet Laureate of the United States, Robert Lowell.
After completing her Master’s degree, Mary taught English for more than two decades at various levels, from high school to junior college to her alma mater, BU. Mary’s published works include a volume of poetry, a novel and a textbook. Her poems and essays have appeared in different literary magazines. Along the way, she also received her Certification in Art and raised five children — three sons and two daughters — all but one of whom live near her today.
Adoption was always an open subject in the Mallon household when Mary and Michael were growing up. “My mother was very positive about it,” Mary recalls. When a conference brought her to Chicago several years ago, Mary decided to pay a visit to The Cradle.
“I came back at age 70, and it was a wonderful day,” Mary says. “It means a lot that The Cradle Society continues to be an aware and open organization. I got to see the babies in the Nursery and see a baby go home with his new parents. It was seventh heaven for me!”
Since her retirement in 1994, Mary has spent her days doing what she loves: painting favorite areas of Maine, Cape Cod, Tuscany and Provence, and continuing to take art classes. She also makes handcrafted jewelry. You can see more of her work on her website.
Apple and pear
Surmount New England stone
again.
The ocean melds into the clouds.
The fog hides buttercup and weed
along the pasture fence.
My senses mushroom in the dark
recesses of the barn
Under muzzles, soft and warm,
Of the solid, strong and tender
beasts,
Dumb from the fields of life’s
abundance.
In spring it is time to go forth
into the world again –
Unfolding, yielding and free.
– from The Season’s Edge and Other Poems, ©1984 by Mary Nyman
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Fast forward to 2024 and Micah, who turns seven next month, is thriving! He started first grade this fall and has developed a love for learning to read.
In addition to being a great student, Micah stays active year-round as a multi-sport athlete, playing soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. His favorite subject, naturally, is P.E.
Hopeful parents might also recognize the Kuruvillas from Cradle panels and training sessions, where they frequently share their experiences as a way to give back.
“We waited three years for Micah. It was a long and tough journey, and even though it was almost seven years ago, we’ll remember it forever,” says Mike. “If there’s ever a way to connect with someone else going through their own process, then we consider that a privilege and an honor.
A lot has happened since then. Jordyn is now seven, a confident and spontaneous child who loves and excels in school. She also enjoys dance and competitive cheerleading.
“We’re just along for the ride,” says her mom, Megan. The family also remains close with Jordyn’s birth mother, Maya. “Jordyn talks about her all the time. She even brought a photo of Maya and her other daughters to school for show and tell.”
Initially uncertain of open adoption, the Chins are now some of its strongest advocates. You might have heard them speak at Cradle events or been mentored by them during your own home study process. “Openness can be scary and complicated, but it’s worth it,” says Megan. “Ultimately, the more love a child has in their life, the better.”
The Chin family has also grown since 2018! They adopted their son, Cam, from The Cradle in 2020. Cam, who is non-verbal and has unique needs, is surrounded by love and care, including that of Megan, a special education teacher, and his biological family. “From day one, Cam came with a lot of love and support. His birth parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents — they’re still involved, and they’re a big part of our family,” says Megan.
The Chins embody The Cradle’s adoption philosophy: embracing openness, celebrating diversity and identity, and supporting the unique needs of every child. “I love our family,” says Megan. “I have a lot of gratitude to The Cradle for everything it’s brought us.”
Anna was adopted at the age of one from China in the early 2000s. Like many people who were adopted, she struggled with mental health throughout her childhood and teenage years. Her mother, Abigail, was determined to find her help. She turned to The Cradle’s adoption-competent therapists — a decision that changed their lives.
Prior to finding The Cradle, Anna was taken to various kinds of doctors to seek treatment for her mental health challenges. Abigail said many of these visits were unhelpful. “None of the pediatricians, psychologists or neuropsychologists ever considered Anna’s [adoption] history in evaluating her. As a result, she was misdiagnosed for years. She had alphabet soup in her medical chart: ADHD, ODD, RAD, etc.”
Due to her misdiagnoses, Anna was heavily medicated. Abigail said the effects were often extreme. “She was medicated to the point of suicide. I was told she would likely develop serious mental illness and would spend her life in residential care.” Abigail was also told that Anna would likely never graduate from college.
Abigail began to seek a different approach in treatment for Anna and brought her to The Cradle. “Six months after starting therapy with an experienced post-adoption therapist, she was medication-free and stabilized,” Abigail said. “Her performance in school improved. She became more confident, self-accepting and started to let go of the deep shame she felt about being adopted.”
One of the most powerful moments in Anna’s therapy was a trip to The Cradle Nursery, a safe place where babies can be cared for while their parents figure out how or if they can parent their child. Anna’s counselor introduced her to a six-week-old baby, the same age she was when she was placed for adoption. “We talked about how sweet the baby was, and how there was nothing that tiny baby could have done to make his mother choose to place him for adoption. Seeing that newborn infant really helped Anna internalize that her adoption was not because she was a ‘bad baby,’” Abigail said.
This treatment not only helped Anna, but also provided support for Abigail and the rest of their family. “I think that the guidance I received in parenting was probably as important as the work The Cradle did with Anna,” Abigail said. “[The counselors] gave me tools to parent her, acknowledge her pain and advocate for her. Because of post-adoption counseling, I was able to ask for accommodations in her school that gave her the support she needed. Since then, she has become very good at advocating for herself.”
Today, Anna continues to thrive. “She is doing very well now. With the help of experienced post-adoption counselors, she has the skills to deal with many of the emotional challenges of adoption,” Abigail said. “Maybe the most important piece is that she recognizes that she was not placed for adoption because she was somehow not good enough. She is able to grieve the losses. It’s not easy, but post-adoption counseling laid a strong foundation.”
In May of 2024, Anna graduated college and her story is just beginning. “It’s hard for me to articulate how important post-adoption counseling was for our family,” Abigail said. “It pulled Anna back from the brink, saved her life and gave her tools to be a confident, capable and absolutely amazing young woman.”
Pictured to the right is Riley — a thoughtful and caring young actress who loves theatre, swimming and all things Disneyland. Today, Riley is thriving alongside her parents, Greg and Nick. Looking at them, you might never know the challenges they faced on their path to becoming a family.
The year was 2013, and Greg and Nick had just tied the knot. As educators — Greg a math teacher and Nick an arts administrator — they shared a love for learning and community. They also shared a dream: to start a family through adoption. But it wasn’t long before they hit roadblocks.
It would be four more years before LGBTQ+ couples could legally adopt nationwide, and one year until marriage equality itself was federally recognized. These barriers limited their options and made an already emotional process even more challenging. Greg and Nick refused to give up. They went from agency to agency, searching for someone they could “put their hope and trust in,” Nick says. That’s when they discovered The Cradle.
“Everyone we worked with was phenomenal,” Greg says. “They were extremely professional, but also personal and compassionate. Striking that balance was remarkable.”
Enter Riley. She was born prematurely at just 28 weeks, weighing only two and a half pounds (a far cry from the average full-term birthweight of seven pounds). As a result, she faced significant health complications and spent her first two months of life in intensive care.
Once stable, Riley was transferred to the Cradle Nursery, a nurturing and comfortable space where her condition could be monitored closely by licensed nurses. For the next three weeks, Riley received around-the-clock care as she awaited placement. Finally, on a snowy afternoon in January, Riley went home with Greg and Nick, and their new life as a family began.
Today, Riley is a thriving 11-year-old. “She’s happy, healthy, kind and well-adjusted — what more could you ask for as a parent?” Greg says. “It’s been a joy to watch her grow and develop her own personality.”
Greg and Nick always talk about adoption as “the most positive and celebratory thing,” a perspective that may have helped shape Riley into the thoughtful person she is today.
“She’s always been quick to form loving relationships, in part because she’s learned from the beginning that family is more about love than blood. I like to believe that adoption taught her a larger lesson there,” Nick says.
Reflecting on their journey, Nick adds, “We look back and are so grateful we chose The Cradle. We wouldn’t have a family if not for them.”
Dave, wanting to connect with people who shared similar adoption experiences, started a group for people connected to The Cradle in his area, fostering a space for community and support.
Dave was adopted from The Cradle in November 1965. Before adopting him, and his sister two years later, his parents had experienced loss in their journey to adoption. His birth mother was also facing significant challenges at the time. Reflecting on his adoption, Dave shared that it offered “redemption out of tragedy, for my family and hers.”
Dave always knew he was adopted, as it was discussed openly and positively. But it wasn’t until adulthood that he met his birth parents. On Mother’s Day weekend in 2010, he spoke with his birth mother for the first time. And in 2020, he connected with his birth father. Since then, he has stayed in touch with both to varying degrees.
In addition to connecting with his birth parents, Dave wanted to connect with others who shared aspects of his adoption journey. He reached out to Nina Friedman, The Cradle’s Director of Post-Adoption Support, for assistance in finding fellow people connected to The Cradle in the Washington D.C. metro area. She suggested he share his search on , where he found other folks who were interested in forming a group.
Approximately every six months, Dave and about seven other Cradle adoptees and adoptive parents gather at a local restaurant. Their meetings are informal, with no set agenda, and provide a space for everyone to share their unique adoption stories. Common discussion topics include relationships with birth families, reconnection journeys and their experiences in their adoptive families. These gatherings offer support, understanding and perspective that only those within the adoption circle can provide.
The group is diverse, with members ranging in age from their 20s to their 80s, and nearly every decade in between. Their stories are just as diverse. Some have never met their birth families, while others have formed bonds or are in the process of reconnecting. Dave says they share stories ranging from “heartwarming to hilarious to kind of tough.” What unites them is their connection to The Cradle and their commitment to supporting one another.
When asked what advice he would give to someone interested in starting a similar group, Dave’s message was simple: “Just do it.” He emphasized that you don’t need to be a professional to be there for someone, and even an informal gathering can make a meaningful impact. He highlighted how valuable it is to have like-minded people in his life. He also encouraged everyone to connect with The Cradle’s post-adoption support resources for guidance on this journey.
If you’re connected to The Cradle and live in the Washington D.C. area, Dave invites you to join their next gathering! You can reach him at david.lohff@yahoo.com to learn more about their upcoming meetings. If you are interested in starting your own group, please reach out to Nina Friedman at postadoption@cradle.org or consider joining The Cradle’s post-adoption Facebook page.
Dave Lohff, Adoptee,
Mary and Tom Rogers always knew they wanted children. After five years of marriage, they turned to adoption as a way to build their family. Even though they were living in Detroit at the time, Tom and Mary were familiar with The Cradle, as they knew two families who had adopted through the nonprofit adoption agency. (And, at this time in The Cradle’s history, the agency was working with adoptive parents in multiple states.)
The Rogers were also fortunate to have the support of their families as they began their adoption journey. “We knew our two sets of parents would be very accepting of us going to The Cradle rather than an unknown agency,” Mary says.
When they visited The Cradle for the first time in 1969, Mary and Tom were struck by the care put into making the space feel warm and welcoming. “To walk in the door, you just feel at home,” Mary says.
During their meeting, the Rogers were surprised to discover that the adoption process was more complex and time-consuming than expected. “We were pretty naive in terms of what was involved,” Tom says. “In retrospect, now we’d say, ‘Well, of course… it’s a big deal.’”
Though initially overwhelmed, the Rogers eventually understood why The Cradle’s adoption process was so meticulous. “We were impressed with the professionalism and with the thoroughness of the process and staff,” Tom says. The Rogers were also thankful for their counselor, who from the start worked tirelessly with the couple throughout their adoption journey.
About a year into the adoption process, the Rogers got a phone call from The Cradle telling them a baby was ready to be adopted. The couple was thrilled, but they had to prepare quickly.
“We got the call on Friday night and picked [up our son] on Monday,” Mary says. She remembers thinking, “Now, what do we do with a baby? We’ve never had a baby before.” Thankfully, the Rogers had friends with a one-year-old child who helped Mary and Tom get all the essential baby supplies ready over the weekend.
Mary and Tom recall the overwhelming emotions they felt the first time they held their son: “You go into this little room and sit on the couch, and they bring you your baby,” Mary says. “Then they just give you some time.”
The Rogers were instantly smitten with baby Brad—Tom jokes that there was no way to get Brad out of his hands once he began to hold him. They took their son back home to Detroit soon after.
The Rogers knew from the start that they wanted more children. “We did not want Brad to be an only child,” Mary says. After adopting Brad, they stayed in touch with their Cradle counselor and began the adoption process again a few years after bringing Brad home.
Though not much time had passed, societal and cultural shifts had begun to impact the adoption process by the time the Rogers started working with The Cradle the second time. While The Cradle Nursery had been nearly full when they adopted Brad in 1970, there were just six babies in the Nursery three years later. The Rogers worried they wouldn’t have another child placed with them.
But then, in 1973, their counselor contacted the Rogers about a baby girl. When they went to meet their daughter Maggie for the first time, the couple was touched to see a photo of Brad on display at The Cradle. “That was so sweet,” Mary says.
“We like to think it was there because he was perhaps the best-looking child that ever went through The Cradle,” Tom jokes.
After Maggie’s adoption, the Rogers say their family felt complete, and they will never forget The Cradle’s role in their lives.
Mary and Tom recall how excited Brad was to meet his new baby sister when they brought her home for the first time. He was thrilled to have a sibling and even gave her the nickname “Muffin,” which the family still uses to this day.
The Rogers moved to Colorado shortly after adopting Maggie in 1973. They enjoyed an idyllic family life, and Mary and Tom reflect on how grateful they are that their children got to grow up playing outside, camping and experiencing the natural beauty of the mountains.
As the kids got older, the Rogers started traveling more. Mary still had family in Chicago, and she and Tom would take the kids to visit once each year. “One year, I decided the kids needed to experience a train ride,” Mary remembers, “so we took the train from Colorado to Chicago.” Later in their lives, they took the family on a special trip to Hawaii for Mary and Tom’s 20th wedding anniversary — the trip would become a much-loved family tradition.
“I think when the kids were growing up, we were the happiest people we knew,” Mary says. “We just thought we had died and gone to heaven to have these kids,” she says.
Brad and Maggie had closed adoptions, which was still the standard in the 1970s (open adoption became more the norm in the 1980s and 1990s across the United States). Neither child ever expressed a desire to meet their birth parents while growing up, but a DNA test Maggie received as a Christmas gift from her husband one year inadvertently led to one of Maggie’s birth relatives discovering their connection.
That eventually led to Maggie’s birth father reaching out to her through a letter in 2020. Shortly after he made contact with Maggie, Tom and Mary asked for permission to write to him, and he agreed.
“We wanted to tell him…[how they] had impacted our lives in a dramatic and very positive way,” Tom says. “He wrote us back a very nice letter, and I think he appreciated our expression of gratitude to him.”
While the Rogers were satisfied with their closed adoptions, they acknowledge that it would have been nice to update Brad and Maggie’s birth parents occasionally as the children grew up. “On the kids’ birthdays, I always wished I could let their birth parents know they were fine, and that they were well loved and well cared for,” Mary says.
Today, Maggie and her husband have three children. They live in Colorado not far from Mary and Tom, who are thrilled to spend so much time with their grandkids. My youngest grandson has just discovered golf,” Tom says with a laugh. “I’m having lots of fun playing and introducing him to it.”
Tragically, Brad passed away in 2017. “Our life has been idyllic with one major exception,” Tom says. “It’s been difficult — it still is difficult.”
“That’s our big heartache,” Mary says.
The couple spends plenty of time with Maggie and their grandchildren to brighten the darker days. “We have five other people that we love, and they depend on us,” Mary says. “So, luckily, we put one foot in front of the other and continue.”
Despite their heartbreaking loss, the Rogers are grateful for the life they have been given. “We look back, and we say, ‘We did have a wonderful time,’” Mary says. “There are no regrets,” adds Tom.
Mary and Tom say they cannot overstate how much their decision to work with The Cradle shaped their lives. Forever grateful, the Rogers make a point to regularly support and donate to The Cradle whenever they can.
They also acknowledge the bravery and love of birth parents who make the difficult decision to place their children through adoption. “I want to say to birth parents, ‘Thank you. What a selfless act,’” Mary says. “They gave us our life.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Rae Ellen and Matthew adopted their son, David, in the summer of 1992. They returned to visit The Cradle the day before David’s 32nd birthday to see where it all began and to share their family story.
David’s birth mother made an adoption plan and then decided she wanted to parent him. A few months later, she changed her mind again.
“Our paperwork came in while she had him home. She brought him back because she was nervous about taking care of him,” Rae Ellen said. “She liked what she read in our packet, so she picked us.”
David was born with a rare birth defect called agenesis of the corpus callosum (ACC). Rae Ellen and Matthew were aware of this at the time of adoption.
“There’s not a lot of information about ACC,” Rae Ellen said. “And when talking to the doctors, they said physically he seems to be doing okay. It took him a little longer with some things, but he learned to talk at around four and a half. Two, I think, before he started walking. He rolled on the floor to get to where he wanted to go.”
Rae Ellen and Matthew had only completed the home study process a month or two before getting the call about David. “I was surprised because they told us it could take a while,” Rae Ellen said.
“Terrified,” Matthew added.
“It was just meant to be,” Rae Ellen said.
Rae Ellen and Matthew were open to any level of openness that David’s birth mother was comfortable with. “The only things she had asked for were pictures and letters,” Rae Ellen said. Over the years, they sent updates to The Cradle to share with her. She was aware these letters and photos were waiting for her, but they did not have contact until much later in David’s life.
However, the birth mother stayed in regular contact with The Cradle’s post-adoption counselors for years. They provided support and talked her through thoughts and feelings about her adoption plan. And when she was ready to meet David and his family, Nina Friedman, Director of Post-Adoption Support, arranged the visit.
This took the family by surprise. David was 25 years old. When asked how he felt before the visit, David said, “Good, nervous and excited.”
They met at a public library where they talked about their lives, families and who the birth mother thought David resembled. The family spoke fondly of their visit, but unfortunately, haven’t heard from her since. This has been difficult for the whole family. “Even if we don’t hear from her, you still have two moms, right?” Rae Ellen said to David.
Rae Ellen and Matthew said they are grateful for The Cradle’s support over the years, especially in facilitating contact with David’s birth mother. “It’s a very good place. They set up the meeting. I wouldn’t have been able to do that,” Rae Ellen said. “I kept in touch through the years and, and [Cradle counselors] would call every so often to check in. I don’t think you find that at all agencies.”
Today, David lives in a group home, goes to work and sees his parents often. “He’s always been a people person,” Rae Ellen said. The highlight of his return to The Cradle was visiting the Nursery — the place where his journey began 32 years before.
Anie was five months along when she found out she was pregnant. At the time, she was already caring for her father and grandmother, who had both fallen sick. “It was a scary moment,” Anie recalls, then just 22 years old. “I felt I wasn’t in the right place to parent.”
Anie herself was adopted as a baby. Born in Poland, her adoption was closed, meaning she never knew her birth parents. When she received her Polish birth certificate as a senior in high school, it was the first time she ever saw her mom’s name.
“I didn’t want to put my child through a closed adoption like mine. But other than that, I had no idea where to start,” she says. She began researching agencies, eventually selecting The Cradle because of our open adoption program.
Anie’s counselor provided the resources and expert support she needed, and soon, it was time to pick the adoptive parents. She chose a couple, Melissa and Mike. On top of sharing her enthusiasm for open adoption, they were also dog lovers and avid zoo-goers, just like Anie.
Seven eventful years later, Anie couldn’t be happier with her choice. She sees Melissa, Mike and (not so) little Leo several times a year. “From our first meeting until now, it’s been nothing but amazing,” she says. “They’re my second family.”
Since placement, Anie got married (with her second family in attendance) and is now parenting two younger sons, Odin and Henry, who Leo calls his “tummy brothers.” The bond between the two families has been a constant source of love and comfort, not least for Anie.
“Because I watched Leo grow up and saw how great he was doing, I didn’t feel bad when I decided to parent Odin. It was still scary, but having Mike and Melissa gave me confidence. They helped me realize I really could be a good parent.”
Abby and Layla are best friends who first met when they were babies in The Cradle Nursery together. Nine years later, they still refer to each other as “Roomies,” a testament to their enduring bond. They shared the story of their special friendship with The Cradle.
While the Roomies have known each other since birth, their parents also met in a unique way. “We were both running late for court,” said Abby’s mom, Jennifer.
“That’s our life. That’s why we’re friends,” added Layla’s mom, Jaime. While in court to finalize their adoptions, they struck up a conversation and found a surprising number of similarities. Not only had they both adopted daughters from The Cradle, they also lived in neighboring towns and even shared an adoption counselor. “It just clicked,” Jaime said.
These families have both found that their adoption stories have made inroads to connect with others. “The more people you tell that you were adopted, the more people you find that were adopted,” said Jaime. “You find more connections.” Layla said adoption is her “superpower.”
“It’s okay to tell people that are trustworthy that you’re adopted,” said Abby. “Be proud of it.”
The Roomies joked that they were holding hands through their cribs in The Cradle Nursery. Today, they like to hang out, swim together and “do really crazy makeup” over video calls when they can’t get together. Through their shared experience of adoption, these families have created a lasting friendship. Layla said they’ve been best friends, “for our whole lives.”
In 2023, Abby and Layla sent a video wishing The Cradle a happy 100th birthday.
Nancy, center with the orange ribbon, pictured here with her family at The Cradle Centennial Gala.
Nancy Sanborn is the great-granddaughter of Florence Walrath, The Cradle’s founder. When she first discovered her family’s ties to The Cradle, she was eager to learn more about Florence and the history of her work.
“Both my mother and aunt had vivid memories of ‘Momma Flo,’ particularly her strong will. We should all be glad for that. I’m sure it was essential for a woman so ahead of her time in pushing the boundaries of adoption and female entrepreneurship.”
The more Nancy learned, the more inspired she became. The Cradle’s vision — of a world where every child thrives in a safe and loving family — resonated deeply with her.
“I’ve always been concerned about the many children who are born and grow up in circumstances that don’t provide opportunities to thrive. The Cradle helps tackle this complex problem and has created a lifetime of opportunities for thousands of children and families. Of course I wanted to help!”
Nancy has been a generous and passionate supporter of The Cradle for nearly two decades. Today, she is proud to see the impact of her support and her family’s enduring legacy in action.
“Whenever I meet someone from the Chicago area, I ask them if they know of The Cradle. The answer is usually ‘yes.’ I’m always struck by how many people have a story about themselves, family members, friends or colleagues who have been personally touched by The Cradle. These stories have helped me appreciate the width of The Cradle’s reach and the depth of its impact over these many years.
“My Husband and I got married in 2009 and immediately started trying for a family. We had multiple fertility issues throughout the years,” Melissa said. “We always thought about adoption, even prior to that.”
The Oskielunas looked into a few different agencies before ending up at The Cradle. “We really liked The Cradle because it just felt very warm, very welcoming.” Melissa said. “I think that it seems like a real commitment to lifelong support. That was really important for us on the adoptive parent side, the birth parent side and the adoptee side.”
When they first began their adoption journey, Mike and Melissa were hesitant about the idea of an open adoption. “I think when we were first in the info session and going through the classes, the idea of open adoption was, frankly, scary — not knowing how we would interact with this family, not knowing what this kind of commitment would be. I think it was hard to wrap our minds around ‘Will they think that we’re not their mom and dad?’” Melissa said. “There was a lot of fear.”
But as they continued to learn more, their perspective started to evolve. “I think The Cradle did a great job of addressing those fears head on and helping us understand open adoption,” Melissa said. “And you hear a lot about closed adoption and people finding out they’re adopted later in life. We certainly didn’t want that.”
Their perspective changed even more during their match meeting with Leo’s birth mom, Anie. “I remember, before we went in, I told my husband ‘Maybe I’ll give her my e-mail address.’ And then by the end of the day, we were texting and have continued to text for almost seven years. So, our thoughts changed a lot as we got a better understanding of what it really looks like and what the benefits are to everyone involved, especially our son.”
“He’s almost seven. He understands birth parents and he understands that we’re his parents. I think that’s been really beneficial to have that kind of open and honest communication with him,” Melissa explained.
Anie shared her side of their adoption story with The Cradle, too, which Mike and Melissa enjoyed reading. “I think she encompassed it so well, what our story is,” Melissa said. “She should give herself more credit. She made a really selfless, difficult choice. And I’d hate for that to be overshadowed by something that Mike and I did.”
The Oskielunas and Anie have remained close to this day. “I always knew that we would love our child. I never knew how much I would love his birth mom. She’s a huge part of our family. We went to her wedding. We have birthdays and holidays,” Melissa said. “It feels very much like any other kind of family.”
“When Dmitry was three years old, as I was tucking him into bed one evening, he said, ‘Mama, when I was a baby, I needed you and you came to get me.’”
– Penelope Savalas Boardman recalling her son Dmitry’s reflection
On March 20, 2000, my late husband, Christopher, and I signed-up for The Cradle’s information meeting for adoptive parents. On that very same day, on the other side of the globe, a baby boy was born in the Siberian town of Serov, north of Ekaterinburg. It was an auspicious sign that that boy was meant to be ours.
With guidance and support from The Cradle, we completed our home-study, the state requirements for the Department of Children & Family Services (DCFS), and so the anticipation for a match began. After several months of waiting, we were matched with that little boy and then came the more agonizing wait for a court date that allowed me to travel to Russia and bring him home. As we waited, we watched the video clip of Dmitry every day. Eighteen months to the day of signing up for the information session, we were finally able to meet our little son.
Resiliency Through Challenging Times
Fast forward 23 years and Dmitry is now an extraordinary young man. He has proved his resilience time and again, particularly through the long illness and eventual passing of his beloved father as he began high school; and navigating part of his sophomore year and all of his junior year of college studying remotely from home due to the COVID-19 pandemic. He is an artist, an avid reader and excellent writer. Dmitry is currently working with a book designer for his forthcoming volume of original poems and illustrations.
I am so proud of him. Chris would be, too.
People tell me that I have done a good job, but I had tremendous material to start with and constant support from The Cradle.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
One word stands out in Mary Hart Wilheit’s Nursery record from 1945: “Hungry!” It is written over and over again. “I must have been a very hungry baby,” she says with a laugh during a visit to The Cradle in the 2010s – her first in over 50 years.
Mary Hart had returned once during college in the 1960s, before getting married and settling in Gainesville, Georgia. In 1997 she contacted Post Adoption Services and received a background report, as well as a detailed record of her three-month stay in The Cradle Nursery before going home with Mildred and Jack Keys of Greenville, South Carolina. Her parents had adopted her older brother, John, in 1943, traveling by train both times to pick up their children.
Mildred told Mary Hart about being ushered into a room at The Cradle where the baby would be waiting, nestled in an old-fashioned bassinet. “Adoption has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember,” she says. “I was always told that I was very special.” Growing up in Greenville she had a friend and fellow Girl Scout named Sunny, who was also a Cradle baby.
On this visit, Mary Hart was accompanied by her husband, Philip, along with her daughter, Hart, and son-in-law, Jeff. The two women got teary as Mary Hart shared the story of adopting Hart as a newborn in a private adoption. “After trying for five years to start a family,” she recounts, “Hart dropped out of heaven. She is such a gift.” And five years after welcoming their daughter, Mary Hart and Philip had a biological son, Philip Jr., who today works with his dad in the family’s packaging business.
The Wilheits are very philanthropic and civically engaged, supporting a number of organizations including The Cradle. When asked why she has chosen to give back, Mary Hart replied, “The Cradle has always been in my heart. I want other babies to have the same opportunities that I did. There’s nothing else like it.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Mary Elizabeth “Betsy” Berry is a mother, grandmother, world traveler and a proud Cradle baby, Class of 1939.
“I always knew I was adopted,” Betsy says. “But sometimes I would tease my mom that she made it up since we have some physical characteristics in common. My mom and I both grew two inches when we turned 21, we are both missing two wisdom teeth and I definitely have the family nose.”
Betsy recalls visiting The Cradle as a young child and being surprised to see a baby photo of herself on the wall. She also remembers always being comfortable as an adopted child and that there were several other adoptive families in her hometown of Cincinnati. She and her younger brother, also a Cradle baby, grew up knowing their adoption stories.
“I was born in 1939, the same year as one of Bob Hope’s kids,” Betsy says. “My dad used to tell a story about meeting Bob Hope in California, and they compared pictures of their Cradle babies. I feel proud to be a Cradle Baby.”
Betsy still lives in Cincinnati today and has been a generous Cradle donor for many years. “I started making memorial gifts to The Cradle when someone died because I thought it was a nice way to honor someone’s memory by contributing to the start of a new life,” Betsy says. Several years ago, she became a Nursery Angel, sponsoring The Cradle Nursery on her birthday.
“The gift is ‘in honor of all of my parents,’” she explains. “I never really thought much about my birth mother except on my birthday — my mom was my mom and my dad was my dad. But I appreciate the choice she made for me because I had a wonderful life. None of my parents are alive now, so I thought it was a good time to [make] the gift so no one could be offended.”
In addition to Betsy’s continuing support of the Nursery, she has sponsored The Cradle Open House.
Betsy has two children, a son in Colorado and a daughter in Texas, and six grandchildren. “I am a traveling Nana,” she says. “I don’t know what I would do without the modern technology of FaceTime that allows me to stay in touch.” Besides spending time with her family, Betsy loves to explore the world. Last year, she and a childhood friend took a trip to Tahiti and had a marvelous time.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
“The Cradle has always been a real source of grace in my life,” says Rev. Kenneth C. Simpson, pastor at St. Clement Church in Chicago’s Lincoln Park community. “Father Ken” was placed through The Cradle in 1952 after being born prematurely and spending time in The Cradle Nursery. “It seems simple to say, but my parents and adoption did shape my life and my understanding of being lucky, being gifted,” he says.
Fr. Ken’s mother and father married later in life and adopted him and his younger sister through The Cradle. “My father didn’t have much of a family growing up, so he always said that family was sort of his first religion,” Fr. Ken recalls. “He was so dedicated to us.”
It wasn’t until high school that Fr. Ken knew he wanted to join the priesthood. He explained that while his parents were always very proud, they wanted to make sure their son got a proper education, no matter what path he chose. After graduating from Loyola Academy, Fr. Ken went to seminary at Niles College, a part of Loyola University. “My parents were really supportive, but because it was just my sister and me, my decision meant no grandchildren, no going on with the name,” he notes.
Fr. Ken first joined St. James Church in Highwood, Illinois, followed by St. Michael Parish in Orland Park, Illinois. He then became the Dean of Formation at Niles College and worked with students there for 10 years. Thinking that his academic career was over and anticipating a change of pace, Fr. Ken was surprised when he was encouraged to apply to the Sheil Catholic Center in Northwestern University’s Evanston, Illinois, campus.
He stayed at Sheil for 15 years and helped students work through questions of identity. “You get really good at that part of the conversation with kids,” Fr. Ken says. “But the truth is we’re all asking those questions, whether we’re young or old. I have begun to see those same questions here at St. Clement.”
Fr. Ken remembers a defining moment of clarity in his own search for identity as an adopted person. As a freshman in high school, he listened to the quarterback of the football team talk about his spiritual journey: “He said, ‘You know how I know I’m loved by God? Because I’m adopted. I know I was wanted, so I’m sure I’m loved by God.’” Fr. Ken has shared that turning point with many people. “They understand that moment and are comforted by that message.”
After three years at St. Clement, Fr. Ken has grown quite fond of the parish. He has also remained connected to The Cradle, taking a tour to see where his parents first laid eyes on him, delivering prayers at The Cradle Ball, keeping up with The Cradle’s outreach efforts and financially supporting The Cradle’s work. “When you meet someone from The Cradle, it’s like you have this bond, though you’ve never known them. We’re all Cradle babies still.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Adoption is a popular route for many LGBTQ+ people looking to expand their families. When beginning the adoption journey, prospective LGBTQ+ parents should understand the unique challenges and considerations they may have to navigate during the process.
Cradle Board Chair John S. Luce shares his family’s adoption story for The Cradle Blog to help guide other LGBTQ+ parents through their own adoption journeys. John covers the challenges he and his husband Doug Luce faced, how LGBTQ+ adoptions have changed since they started their journey, and the invaluable support they received from The Cradle.
John and Doug began their adoption journey in 2002, having known they wanted to start a family from early on in their relationship. However, during their first encounters with adoption agencies, they faced everything from outright refusals to work with them to agencies that treated them like an exception. John recalls an appointment with an adoption agency early in their journey where they were told, “I don’t mind helping you gay guys get a baby.”
Looking back, John emphasizes how critical it was for him and Doug to find an agency that treated them like any other couple. “You have to go to a place where they really respect your desire to have a family, and they’re going to do everything they can to help you build it in a compassionate and ethical manner,” he says. “Not just make you feel like they’re doing you a favor or that this is transactional.”
John recommends that LGBTQ+ individuals or couples looking to adopt seek out an agency that is welcoming and inclusive.
“Going through adoption regardless of your identity, gender or sexual identity is difficult,” John says. “You’re putting this process into someone else’s hands. Being able to work with an organization that understands that and provides a level of support as you go through [the process] is critical.”
Eventually they found The Cradle, and John and Doug were among the first group of prospective parents when the agency opened adoptions to the LGBTQ+ community.
In contrast to the treatment they received at other agencies, John says staff at The Cradle never questioned his and Doug’s desire to have a family. “[At The Cradle], the difference in the level of empathy and understanding was so different. We walked in there, and our adoption counselor did not miss a beat. She understood, ‘Of course, you two want to build a family — it’s natural.’”
They initially pursued an international adoption, working with The Cradle and a third-party organization in Guatemala to adopt a child. However, because international adoptions are highly regulated and laws vary from country to country, they were not able to adopt internationally.
“By the time [we pursued adopting internationally], international adoptions were starting to close,” John says. “The Cradle was amazing. They were very supportive [throughout the process]. They had given us a lot of [information] and had a lot of conversations around, ‘This is what is potentially happening out there, and so therefore let’s get ready for that.’”
After that experience, they decided to switch to a domestic adoption program. John and Doug spent about eight months working with an adoption counselor in the home study process to be approved to adopt a child, during which time they created their adoption profile for expectant parents to view.
After another four months, John and Doug were selected by an expectant parent who chose them to parent her child. They were able to spend time getting to know each other over the course of several Match Meetings facilitated by John and Doug’s adoption counselor, and when the time came, she asked John and Doug to be with her at the hospital for the delivery — an opportunity that rarely happens for adoptive parents.
Because Doug would be a stay-at-home dad experiencing lots of their daughter’s “firsts,” they decided John would be the one in the delivery room when she was born. (Per hospital rules, only one adoptive parent was allowed in the room during the delivery.)
“I still get goosebumps thinking about that. It was just the most amazing experience,” John says. “Then they took her out and Doug got to give her her first bottle.” They spent the next several days visiting Aidan and her birth parent at the hospital. Aidan was born on a Sunday — one day before John and Doug’s wedding anniversary — and went to The Cradle on Thursday of that week. On Friday, John and Doug went to The Cradle to finalize the adoption and brought Aidan home.
John encourages prospective parents to remember that each adoption story is unique and brings its own challenges. LGBTQ+ families that adopt will likely face unique challenges. John and Doug spent significant time making sure the neighborhood they chose to live in would be welcoming to LGBTQ+ people. They wanted to find a home in an excellent school district, but also had to consider Aidan’s future school experience coming from an LGBTQ+ family.
They ultimately addressed these concerns by visiting a school and meeting with a principal who also had experience with adoption and made her support clear from the start. “She immediately set the stage that this is a safe place,” John says.
For John and Doug the adoption process took a little more than a year, but at the time they knew friends who had been waiting much longer. While they felt very fortunate at the time of Aidan’s adoption, he reminds prospective parents that “it’s not an equitable process at times.”
Though Aidan’s adoption went smoothly, the family went through a difficult experience three years later when her birth mother became pregnant again. She approached John and Doug about also adopting this child, and they agreed — but when the baby was born, she had a change of heart. Then tragically, the baby passed away a few months later. “As easy as we had it the first time, we went through this heartbreaking situation with Aidan’s sister,” John says. “And it’s part of our daughter’s life story and part of our story.”
Race was also a consideration for John and Doug. They are White and Aidan is Black. They wanted to move to a diverse area so Aidan would not feel isolated and could grow up around other Black children and families. They also relied heavily on the resources The Cradle provides for transracial adoptive families. For example, the Our Children program educates adoptive parents about the cultural realities and racial injustices their children may face.
John notes that conversations around transracial adoptions have evolved in recent years from basic discussions of race to something more meaningful. “Let’s talk about the dynamics and what’s going to happen,” John says. “How will your family change? What does it mean? What kind of conversations do you need to have with that child that you never had to have at that same age?”
John and Doug relied on the support of adoption counselors throughout the process. “As you’re going into this, you’re kind of like, we [want to] build our family, and you don’t realize all the different layers and complexity of emotions that come through,” John says. “Our counselor had guided us through all of this to a point where we were able to say this is how we want to build our family.”
Their adoption counselor at The Cradle also connected John and Doug with other LGBTQ+ prospective parents. This network of other parents was there to celebrate and support each other through the ups and downs of their adoption journeys and understood firsthand the distinct experiences and challenges that LBGTQ+ families face.
“It was really important for us to have that community,” John says. “My husband and I needed to be with other LGBTQ+ couples going through this process.”
The need for a close, supportive community remains an important part of adoption for LGBTQ+ families, though there are additional resources available today that were harder to find when John and Doug went through the process. John has noticed significant changes in the attitudes and environment facing LGBTQ+ families since he and Doug started their adoption journey over 20 years ago. He notes there is more public support for and solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community, whether it’s individuals and businesses flying pride flags or employers offering benefits to LGBTQ+ couples. Perhaps most importantly, John has seen the concept of “family” open up to become much more inclusive.
Despite these positive changes, LGBTQ+ families still face many struggles. “In some respects, the challenges we faced 20 years ago are still here,” John says. “The reasons people opposed same-sex adoption [then] are still the same — and I don’t think that’s ever going to go away.” While it’s important to acknowledge this, he hopes that with the right resources and support networks, people will not let it stand in the way of creating the life they want.
John remembers having a conversation with their realtor when he and Doug were looking for their first home. He asked if she thought the neighbors would make him feel uncomfortable as an LGBTQ+ individual. Her response: “I don’t think anyone can make you uncomfortable.” It triggered a realization. “I had to get comfortable with where I wanted to be, because there will always be those challenges,” John says. “My advice is, you’ve got to get centered on what you want and go for it. Then you build your family as it’s right for you, where it’s right for you and with whom it’s right for you in terms of your network and your community.”
The Cradle has a proud history facilitating open adoptions and placements with LGBTQ+ families. We support every person’s right to be their authentic selves and are committed to providing an inclusive, supportive community for LGBTQ+ families at all stages of the adoption process. If you are an LGBTQ+ family considering adoption, schedule a call to discuss the process and learn about your options with one of our counselors. You can also request an appointment with one of our adoption-competent counselors through our online form or by calling us at 847-475-5800.
Alice Cestari originally shared this story in 2016. She passed away on January 29, 2020.
The Cradle was only five years old when Alice Cestari was placed with her family in 1928. More than 30 years later, she returned with her husband to adopt their first Cradle baby.
Alice’s parents, George F. Piper Jr., and Nina Sturgis Lawler, married in 1910. While living in Wayzata, Minnesota, a “bedroom community” of Minneapolis on the shores of Lake Minnetonka, they adopted and raised three children from The Cradle: George III, Edmund and Alice. The Piper children remember fondly the years at the lake house prior to moving to Pasadena, California. Their father was president of the Minneapolis/St. Paul Stock Exchange and his family founded Piper Jaffray (now Piper Sandler), an investment banking firm. George Jr. died in 1965 and Nina in 1969.
Edmund went to Yale Medical School, became a dermatologist and married a nurse. The couple lived in Honolulu for several years on naval duty and had two children, then settled in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and had three more children. George III, a graduate of Stanford University, was Alice’s lifelong best friend. He moved back to Wayzata and was an avid historian and antique collector. Both brothers are deceased and Alice remains in contact with her nieces and nephews. George passed away just three months after Alice’s dear husband in 1996.
After completing college in 1950, Alice went abroad with three other girls. In Venice, she met Vincenzo Cestari, who was an officer in the Italian Navy. “Vince was a dream,” Alice said wistfully. When she returned to the United States, the two continued to correspond and fell in love. Alice returned to Italy with her parents so that they could meet the Cestari family, and she and Vince became engaged soon after. They married in Pasadena in 1953 and Vince received a Master’s degree in electrical engineering at California Institute of Technology. The couple then moved to Boston where Vince got another Master’s degree in finance from Harvard Business School. Alice was briefly a teacher before becoming a secretary in Harvard’s alumni office.
“It was my 30th birthday,” Alice recalled, “and I decided to give myself a present and call The Cradle. We had applied many months prior. The woman I talked to asked if we had a permanent address, since we had moved several times when Vince was in school. I assured her we would have a permanent address very soon. We went out and found a house in Wellesley, Massachusetts, right away, and not long after, we got our first of two Cradle babies, Peter. Luisa came along a few years later.”
The Cestaris raised their children in Wellesley, where Alice [spent the rest of her life]. Peter, who works in trucking, lives in Greensburg, Pennsylvania, with his wife and child. Luisa lives near Wellesley in Sherborn, Massachusetts, and is an investment real estate agent with three children, including 17-year-old twin boys.
“Were it not for The Cradle, I would not have had my brothers, my parents or my children,” Alice affirmed. “The Cradle is a big part of my life story and I am forever grateful!”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
John Anthony “Tony” Studds came to The Cradle as a newborn in 1937 and grew up in a wonderful family. His father, the late Rear Admiral R.F.A. Studds, was a retired director of the U.S. Coast & Geodetic Survey and for whom Mt. Studds in the underwater Aleutian Islands is named. Following in his father’s military footsteps, Tony spent 34 years in the U.S. Marine Corps – his last eight as Major General.
While Tony always knew he was adopted, he never really cared to search for his birth family. “I recall somewhere in my early teen years, my sister started asking my mother questions about what her birth mother was like and I could tell that she was very sensitive to it. I decided then that it was an area I wasn’t ever going to get into. It didn’t mean that much to me,” he says.
After Tony’s mother, Margaret, passed away in 2000, his daughters became interested in genealogy and started urging him to trace his bloodline.
“That’s when I decided, I’m not getting any younger, so if it’s going to happen I probably ought to do something about it now,” he recalls.
So in 2013, Tony sent an email from his home in Florida to Nina Friedman, Director of Post Adoption Support at The Cradle. They scheduled an informational consultation and Nina was able to help him obtain his original birth certificate and provide him with non-identifying information about his birth mother.
Tony learned that his birth mom was 18 years old when he was born. She was working as a waitress and her father had passed away, and she didn’t know where to turn.
“When Nina gave me what information she could about my birth mother, I broke down,” he says. “That humanized her and I could certainly understand what she was going through with me at that point.”
Using his original birth certificate, and Nina’s advice, Tony was able to identify his birth mother’s town of residence in 1937. He called the records office there to see if he could unearth anything else and, as it turned out, he got more than he bargained for.
The wife of his birth mother’s nephew used to work at that records office, so the clerk shared her phone number with Tony. Later that day, he called.
“I said, ‘I’m trying to find Lenore’s final resting place. I believe I’m her son and I wanted to visit her [grave] site’,” Tony explained. “The woman on the other end said, ‘She’s not dead. She’s living in Oregon!’”
Tony couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “I was taken aback because I was so sure she’d be deceased.”
Nina says that very often information can catch a person off guard. “Searching for birth relatives, finding information and, of course, connecting can be extremely emotional. Whether you’re getting information from The Cradle or searching on your own, it helps to have an informational consultation with [an adoption-competent counselor] first. We can discuss search options and respectful ways to search and reach out. We can also talk about possible outcomes to help manage your own expectations.”
Looking back on the experience, Tony says he could not have located his birth mother without the help of The Cradle. “If I had to pick one word to sum up what they offered me, it would be guidance. Guidance as to what route to take, guidance on what’s available and guidance on how to get into a search.”
If he would have left it to his daughters to keep searching around online, he doesn’t think he would have ever found his birth mother. For those interested in locating their birth families, Tony says it isn’t something that should be stumbled into and that The Cradle is “absolutely the way to go.”
“The Cradle is a great place to begin the process because as you move through your search, they don’t just help you find the answers — they prepare you for the range of answers you might find,” Tony says.
He ultimately decided that with regards to his birth mother, “probably the best thing to do is just to let life continue for both of us and not to try to make contact.” Sadly, Tony learned that Lenore died in late August 2013, the day before her 95th birthday. But he has connected with some of his first cousins, who shared pictures of his birth mom at various stages in her life with him. He and his wife plan to visit her grave in San Diego.
Tony’s family is very close knit and has been very supportive along the way. His daughters are pleased with the results of his search and he’s glad they now have more information to help fill in the family tree.
“I’m just super thankful for the entirety of the process.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
“I’ve always wanted to adopt a child, since day one,” says Warren Fellingham III. “I think it’s one of the best things you can do.” Warren was adopted through The Cradle in 1968, and his younger sister, Margo, was adopted in 1972. The siblings knew from the beginning that they were adopted.
“We’ve always had what our parents called a ‘coming home day,’” Warren says. “Mine was on December 31, so just when you thought you couldn’t get any more presents, there would be a coming home day gift. Margo’s was in April. That made us feel special.”
When Warren married Sharon Massel following a 12-year courtship, they knew they wanted to start a family. However, because pregnancy would have been risky for Sharon, adoption was a natural choice.
Warren and Sharon came to The Cradle in 2007, completed their home study and went on the waiting list. And they waited — more than three years went by before they were selected by their son’s birth parents.
“We were getting calls periodically from [The Cradle] about potential matches,” Warren says. “We were so excited. It was never a letdown for me [when we didn’t match] because it was nice knowing a baby got placed, even if it wasn’t with us. Waiting parents had become parents. It was harder for Sharon.”
Around Warren’s 40th birthday in November 2008, he and Sharon were chosen by the mother of a baby girl who had already been born and was staying in The Cradle Nursery. After a few months, however, the birth parent had a change of heart and decided to parent the child.
Over the next two years, the couple attended educational workshops and webinars, made sure their paperwork was in order, freshened up their profile and “kept the fires burning,” as Warren describes it. They also began to feel as if they might never be picked, so they applied to another adoption provider in Illinois. Just as their profile went on that provider’s list, in February 2011, The Cradle called. Warren and Sharon had been selected by young birth parents in Champaign, Illinois.
“I was so happy,” Warren says. “The Cradle is where I’m from.”
Things moved quickly after that. The baby, a boy, was due in April. Sharon and Warren made several trips from their home in Evanston to Champaign to visit with the birth family. They learned that one reason they had been chosen, out of the nine families under consideration, was that a specific item in their profile resonated with the birth father, Tim.
“There was a line Sharon had written about me, ‘Warren is a mechanic and owns his own service station,’ with a picture of us in front of my snowplow truck,” Warren says. “That’s what resonated. Tim saw it and pulled it aside because the only job he’s had that he truly liked was working in a service station.”
Warren speaks of Sandy — his son, Warren IV’s birth mother — with tremendous admiration. She and Tim were already raising a 2-year-old son when Sandy became pregnant with Warren IV. “She is my hero,” Warren III says. “I’m proud that he has her genes. She is smart, strong and determined — the kind of person who can pull through.”
This relationship has also helped Warren, who was placed in a closed adoption, come to terms with some of his own doubts.
“Having Sandy in the picture, and knowing why she chose adoption, has filled in so many gaps,” he says. “In many ways, I think it has answered a lot of questions I had about my own adoption.” Going through this experience, as well as taking classes at The Cradle, has made Warren a “convert” to open adoption.
“After waiting so long, we’re still in shock,” Warren says. “I know we have a child — he cries in the middle of the night, he’s getting bigger, his fingernails need cutting. I know it’s all very real, but sometimes I just can’t believe it.”
When he heads to work in the morning a mere two blocks from home, Warren III misses Warren IV (whom he’s taken to calling “Chumley” from the 1960s cartoon show, Tennessee Tuxedo). “Is he sleeping now?” he wonders. “Is he happy? What is he wearing? Did he have enough to eat?”
“If Sharon brings Chumley by the station in the stroller for a visit,” he says, “all the troubles of the day fall off your back.” She reads their son books about adoption, such as The Night We Brought You Home.
Grandma Judy and Grandpa Warren Fellingham Jr. are overjoyed. They, too, waited a long time for their Cradle babies — two years for Warren III and four years for their daughter Margo — so they understood what Warren and Sharon were going through and supported them in every way.
It is easy to imagine a day in the not-too-distant future when all three generations of Fellinghams are together, and someone pokes their head in the room and asks for “Warren.” What then? “We’ll probably be like the Three Stooges,” Warren III says with a laugh.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Liz started making an adoption plan for her baby daughter in the fall of 2016. Although planning an adoption while pregnant came with many challenges and difficult emotions, she says she is grateful to have felt so supported in the months leading up to her daughter’s birth.
“From the moment we walked in the door at Evanston Hospital and said we were working with The Cradle on an adoption, everyone was wonderful,” Liz says. “They were nothing but supportive.”
When Liz found out she was pregnant, she knew she was not ready to be a single parent and that this was not the life she wanted for her child. Her family stood by her every step of the way. It was Liz’s mother who first reached out to The Cradle for a packet of information about the adoption process.
After reviewing the materials, Liz contacted The Cradle and set up an appointment with her assigned adoption counselor. “I met with [my counselor] a few times to discuss what the adoption process looks like and to talk through the decision to make sure it was the right one for me,” Liz says.
The birth father was involved as well. He and Liz reviewed adoptive parent profiles on The Cradle’s website, and with their Cradle counselor’s help, they narrowed their selection from 10 families to five, and then eventually to one.
“It was very surreal, like the strangest online dating you’ll ever do,” Liz recalls. However, as they learned more about the family they were considering, it became clear they had made the right choice.
After making a decision about a potential adoptive family, Liz scheduled a time to meet with them for the first time. She went into the match meeting with a combination of feelings.
“I hope they’re the right pick for my child,” Liz recalls thinking, “and I want them to like me because it’s a relationship that I hope will be an ongoing one.”
Her fears were allayed as both parties hit it off immediately. They planned to meet again the following week, but Liz went into labor early.
The adoptive parents were in the waiting room when Liz delivered a baby girl. Due to some complications, both Liz and the baby had to stay in the hospital a few extra days. Evanston Hospital provided a room for the adoptive parents as well. After they took the baby home from the hospital, Liz signed the surrender papers in the comfort of her parents’ home, with the birth father and counselor present.
Since placement, Liz has been exchanging weekly emails with her daughter’s adoptive parents. She appreciates their generosity and the openness they share, and she has had two visits so far — one for the baby’s baptism and an outing to the zoo.
“It’s an incredibly difficult choice to make and process to go through, but I can’t imagine it going any smoother than it did,” Liz says. “I felt supported from the moment I contacted The Cradle. Everyone is there because they want what’s best for the child. Knowing they are still there after the adoption process takes a great weight off your mind.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
At three years old, Nick was a fiercely protective big brother to 19-month-old Zoey. She looked up to him like little sisters do, and no one could make her smile like Nick could.
Both Nick and Zoey were Cradle babies, and like a number of children adopted each year, they are also birth siblings. Nick and Zoey’s parents, Wendy and Matt Miller, recount how their adoption journey led them to two children who are perfectly matched to their family.
“Even when we were still dating, we always knew we wanted to have kids,” Wendy says. “Once we did get married and tried to get pregnant, we weren’t successful. Matt was ready to move to adoption pretty quickly. It took me a bit longer, but once I understood the whole process, I was all in.”
They came to The Cradle because of the agency’s reputation and were soon immersed in the home study classes, paperwork and myriad other details that go into becoming a parent through adoption. The Millers worked diligently on their adoption profile.
Wendy — who is a writer and loved the creative aspect of drafting a profile — called it a “labor of love.” Matt felt the end result “perfectly captured who we are.”
Six months after Wendy and Matt came to The Cradle, they went on the waiting list. They received a call almost right away and went through a match meeting with an expectant birth mother, but she ultimately decided to parent the child. Three months later, there was another potential match that didn’t work out. Finally, nine months after they first went on The Cradle’s adoptive parent list, Wendy and Matt were chosen a third time.
“We were excited but still cautious, since we had been through a match meeting before,” Matt says. “However, there was a difference this time, because the baby was already born and was currently in The Cradle Nursery.”
The match meeting with the birth parents took place at The Cradle in early October 2012. Matt and Wendy clicked with the birth parents immediately, and two hours went by in a blink.
“Because of the parking situation at The Cradle [at that time], the birth parents had to move their car after two hours, even though we were in the middle of a match meeting,” Wendy recalls. “They had asked us if we wanted to meet the baby, since he was up in the Nursery. We were of course so excited, so they went to move their car and then we were going to meet the baby.”
When the couple came back, their birth parent counselor told Matt and Wendy the couple had made a decision: They wanted Matt and Wendy to adopt their baby, and they wanted him to go home that same day.
The Millers offered the most enthusiastic “yes” of their lives.
“We had come in prepared for a match meeting. We were positive and hopeful, but because of the previous [birth parent’s] change of heart, we kept our expectations low,” Wendy says. “My mom was out of town when we scheduled this meeting. She had offered to cancel her plans, but I said, ‘Don’t be silly — we’re not bringing home a baby.’ But that’s exactly what happened!”
The Millers made a quick run to Target for baby essentials while the birth parents completed their part of the paperwork. (Cradle policy requires that the adoptive parents leave the building when the birth parents sign surrender paperwork.) When they came back, Matt and Wendy met their son Nick for the first time, with his birth parents at their side.
Wendy describes the moment as surreal. “It was incredibly joyful but so bittersweet,” she says. “We were the happiest that we could ever be — yet looking at these beautiful birth parents, we knew that the best day of our lives was one of the worst days of their lives. To love someone so much to be willing to make a decision like that is truly amazing.”
The first year of parenting was “blissful.” Matt stayed home with the baby and Wendy worked as a first grade teacher. They had an open adoption relationship with Nick’s birth parents from the start, but Matt and Wendy also understood that sometimes they may need distance.
“We text and send photos, and there are times when we don’t hear back,” Wendy says. “Nick’s birth mom told us once that while she loves getting updates and seeing the photos — because it confirms they made the right decision — it can also be painful.”
Matt and Wendy always knew they wanted more than one child, and when Nick was 18 months old they started talking about getting back on The Cradle’s adoptive parent list. Matt was at home one day when he got a call from Dana T. Davidson, their Cradle counselor at the time. After a few minutes of catching up and asking about Nick, Dana asked Matt if he was sitting down.
“I said ‘Dana, the last time you said that to me you gave me a kid,’” Matt says with a laugh. “So then Dana repeats it again – ‘Matt, are you sitting down?’”
It turned out that Nick’s birth mother had delivered a baby girl that very morning, and she called The Cradle to ask if Matt and Wendy would consider adopting again.
“Subsequent pregnancies are not common, but they do happen,” says Dana, who is now Co-Director of Adoption and Family Support at The Cradle. “Most women feel incredible stress, embarrassment and shame, and are very worried about being judged when they call The Cradle a second time. Our job is to assure them that we will always support them, we are always here for them, and we honor their courage and love for their child to be making that very difficult phone call.”
That was certainly the case for Nick’s birth mother.
“The birth parents were very worried that we wouldn’t be open to adopting again,” Wendy says. “There was tremendous relief on their part when we said ‘absolutely, yes’ — that not only would we love to parent again, but it would further cement our connection to these amazing people.”
Their daughter Zoey spent four weeks in The Cradle Nursery before coming home to join her big brother in April 2014.
Raising biological siblings has been great fun for the Millers, especially when they see signs of physical resemblance between Nick and Zoey or one child’s mannerisms show up in the other. “Zoey looks like her mom, while Nick favors his dad, but they both have dimples,” Wendy says. “Sometimes I will see Zoey do something and I will laugh because it’s a total Nick face!”
The Cradle places a high priority on placing birth siblings together to ensure it has sufficient options for all expectant parents in its General Domestic Program. Through its Finding Families for Children Initiative, The Cradle reduces the adoption fees for families who have completed a home study for its General Domestic Program previously are willing to accept a second placement of a birth sibling. Wendy and Matt are appreciative of The Cradle’s open adoption process, particularly the support offered to birth parents.
“I love that there is so much counseling and education for the birth parents,” Matt says. “I have told Nick’s birth parents, ‘Don’t ever worry about reaching out. Don’t ever think it’s too late. If five years goes by, you can always reach out for support to The Cradle. They will be there for all of us.’”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Evelyn and Donald Shaw were living in Grosse Pointe, Michigan, in the mid-1960s when they began the process of adopting a child through The Cradle (The Cradle worked with families in multiple states at that time). Eventually they were matched with a baby girl whose birth name was “Anne” during her 45-day stay in The Cradle Nursery. She would become their daughter, Jane Shaw.
“At the time,” Jane says, “The Cradle was concerned [with whether] babies were developing normally, so they would stay in the Nursery longer and have a series of doctor examinations. The agency did its due diligence to ensure that everything was progressing appropriately before a baby was adopted.”
For Evelyn and Donald, Jane was their “dream come true.” They returned to Michigan with 7-week-old Jane in the spring of 1968.
The family moved to Palos Verdes, California, for a brief time before settling in northern New Jersey when Jane was 3. Over the years, Evelyn and Donald adopted four more children — all boys.
Stories about The Cradle were a constant in the Shaw household while Jane was growing up. They often talked about specific memories of the adoption process and moments from Jane’s childhood; many moments featured in the baby pictures sitting on top of the antique piano in the family’s living room.
Her parents told her that The Cradle was a prestigious organization and that it was highly selective when it came to approving and preparing the families who would adopt Cradle babies. When Jane was in middle school, her mother took her to Evanston, Illinois, to visit the agency.
Another constant in the Shaw home was pets, specifically rabbits and poodles. “I loved animals from a very early age,” Jane says. “I’ve always had a strong connection to them and to nature.” This connection inspired her to pursue a degree in veterinary medicine from Michigan State University.
Tragically, during Jane’s third year of vet school, her adoptive father suffered an acute heart attack and passed away at age 63. “It was one of the hardest times of my life,” Jane says. “He provided unconditional love and was one of my true champions.”
As the only daughter, Jane had always been “daddy’s girl.” It was difficult to deal with her grief while keeping up with the intense demands of school, but Jane persevered, becoming a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine in 1994. She went on to receive a Ph.D. in epidemiology at the University of Guelph in Ontario, Canada, in 2004.
During her studies, Jane’s personal appreciation for the human-animal bond — and her recognition of how supportive and healing it can be to share your life with an animal — grew into a passion that helped shape a new discipline in veterinary studies.
“What has happened over the past decade or two in veterinary medicine, and in our culture in general, is that animals have been recognized more and more as members of the family,” Jane says. “The closer our animals are to us, the greater our stress and anxiety when they get sick.”
When Jane became a veterinarian, she wanted to find a way to support other vets by giving them tools to support their clients when a pet is ill.
“How do I help my colleagues,” she wondered, “so they can be both effective and compassionate communicators who in turn can help their clients — pet families who are facing tough decisions or who are simply there for an annual visit? How do we enhance the way the vet works with the pet family to provide the very best care for the animal?”
The answer was veterinary communication, a discipline which Jane and a few others pioneered in the early 2000s, and which they continue to grow and advance today. Communication is now part of the curriculum in vet schools across the country, and it is widely recognized as key to positive clinical outcomes for veterinarians, their clients and animal patients.
Jane received tenure after seven years on the faculty of Colorado State University, and shortly after, she launched the first half of her intensive, two-part course on veterinary communication for third-year students. In the first part of the course, they work on gathering a detailed history from the client (the animal’s “story”) and on building a safe, trusting, supportive relationship. Students come back the following semester to work on the second half of the client interview: educating pet families and offering medical explanations both in understandable terms and in a logical sequence that leads to appropriate follow through.
In addition to her duties as an associate professor, Jane directs a specialized program within CSU’s College of Veterinary Medicine called the Argus Institute. Her responsibilities include teaching veterinary students compassionate communication skills, a clinic-support program staffed by veterinary social workers, a pet hospice program, and research to advance knowledge about veterinary-client communication and its benefits. Jane also leads workshops in communication for other universities and organizations such as the American Veterinary Medical Association and Canadian Veterinary Medicine Association.
While Evelyn is tremendously proud of her daughter, Jane is equally proud of her mother.
“My dad was always the one to say, ‘You can do it, you can do it,’” Jane says. “Now I’m taking on that role for my mom.” After Donald died, Evelyn went back to school to finish her bachelor’s degree. Since then she has completed a master’s degree and is getting a certification in English as a Second Language.
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Not everyone gains a new family at age 69, but for Cradle adoptee Dan Lawlor, the spring of 2016 held answers to some long-held questions about his birth mother that were nothing short of amazing.
Dan was adopted from The Cradle in 1948 and is grateful to his parents for giving him a good life. However, for most of his life he also hoped for an opportunity to speak to his birth mother.
“All I wanted to do was look her in the eye and say, ‘Thank you very much for what you did. I have had a wonderful life and bear no ill will,’” Dan says.
Out of respect for his adoptive mother, Dan waited until she passed away to initiate a search for any birth relatives. When he did make the decision to look for his birth family, Dan approached The Cradle for assistance. At the time, there wasn’t much information the agency could provide beyond directing Dan to complete the required forms and authorization for the Illinois Adoption Registry.
Years passed, and he thought he had reached a dead end.
Late in 2015, Dan’s wife Laurie suggested returning to The Cradle. Dan met with Nina Friedman, director of post adoption support, to discuss the search process and complete some paperwork. The following March, Nina made an initial outreach and discovered that Dan’s birth mother had passed away in 1995 — but she encouraged him to keep looking for other birth relatives.
Dan decided to extend the search to cousins on his birth mother’s side and any relatives on his birth father’s side. Then, the floodgates opened.
Within days, Nina received a response from a nephew of Dan’s birth mother. Dan learned that although his birth mother never married, “she was the aunt who was always there, embraced all the kids and helped raise everyone.” He also learned that while the whole family knew she had placed a child for adoption, they never knew what became of him.
Dan’s existence came as a complete surprise to his birth father’s family. Nonetheless, one of his half-brothers eagerly responded to Nina’s outreach. Dan was equally surprised to find out that his birth father went on to marry and have 10 children, seven of whom were still alive at the time. In May 2016, he drove to Wisconsin to meet a large group of relatives.
“There was an audible gasp when I walked in the door,” Dan recalls. “The eldest brother had just died in January, and apparently I’m a dead ringer for him.” All have warmly welcomed Dan to the family.
Over the course of the following year, Dan met several cousins on his birth mother’s side and dozens of relatives on his birth father’s side. In the fall of 2016, he attended a Green Bay Packers game with his newfound siblings and sat in his birth father’s old seat. Family members have also come to Chicago from Wisconsin to visit Dan.
Dan sent Nina a note of appreciation for her help: “Words cannot express how grateful I am for your assistance in connecting me with this important part of my DNA. These folks are wonderful, and I can’t wait to get to know them better.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Norm and Barbara met while they were both working at A.C. Nielsen in Chicago. They always knew they wanted to have children, and after several years of marriage, it was this desire for a family that led them to adoption.
“We had been married for six years and really wanted a baby,” Barbara says. “Our doctor said there was nothing medically wrong. He suggested we put in an adoption application and then I might get pregnant, which was what they told families back then. It never worked for me, but I [now have] two of the most beautiful children I could have hoped for.”
In the late 1960s, when there were up to 60 babies in the Nursery at any given time, The Cradle was seeking adoptive parents. “We called, had an interview in September, and our daughter was born in December,” Norm says.
“I remember it was a Friday and I was at home,” Barbara recalls with a smile. “Our social worker called and said, ‘You have a baby girl.’ I was so excited! I called Norm right away and we went shopping — we had nothing, not a crib or clothes, nothing! We hadn’t told anyone, not even our families, because it wasn’t a sure thing.”
The couple spent the weekend buying and assembling a crib, picking up borrowed baby clothes and purchasing cloth diapers. (“No disposables back in those days!” Norm says.) On Monday, Barbara went to her office to tell her boss she would not be returning to work because she was about to become a mom.
“He said he wanted me to stay working and he would let me work from home, which I did for the next 25 years,” Barbara says. “He was a man ahead of his time.”
Barbara and Norm adopted their daughter Janice at The Cradle in January 1969. “Janice was so quiet, such a good girl, always easygoing,” Norm says. “I remember they had us change her into the clothes we brought from home, and we were on our way in less than an hour!”
On the drive home, Barbara held baby Janice in her arms since there were no car seats in those days either. “We showed her off all over,“ Norm says. “Our friends and neighbors didn’t even know we were in the process of adopting, so it was a fun surprise.”
Two years later, the couple decided it was time for a sibling for Janice and began the adoption process again. This time, they prepared for a longer wait.
“Since we already had a child, we were told it could take up to a year, but that was OK with us,” Norm says.
In fact, it was just two weeks after their paperwork was submitted that they got the call about baby Steve, whom they adopted a month later.
“The kids were always close. Steve came home just before Janice turned three, and she felt like it was her best birthday present ever,” Barbara says.
Adoption was always a comfortable topic in the Wolowicki household.
“From the time they were little, we always told the kids about being adopted, and it was never an issue in our family,” Barbara says. “They haven’t been interested in any information about their birth parents, although they might have questions about their health backgrounds.”
Now the Wolowickis’ two Cradle babies are married with children of their own. Janice, an RN, and her husband have two daughters. Steve drives a truck and lives with his wife and son in the Chicago suburbs. Barbara says her grandson Justin is the “spitting image” of Steve when he was a baby.
Barbara and Norm dote on their three grandchildren and enjoy sharing their love of travel and Chicago adventures.
“We are so close to those grandkids — when they bring their boyfriends over, they know if Grandma doesn’t approve, it’s trouble!” Barbara says.
Although adoption has changed so much since the Wolowickis brought their children home, they continue to support The Cradle through regular gifts and by attending events. “The Cradle is our favorite [nonprofit],” Barbara says. “The Cradle [connected us to] our children — how could we not be supportive?”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
When Jerry Janes walked through the doors of The Cradle in May 1994 — for the first time since his adoption placement 27 years earlier — he instantly felt a sense of recognition.
“The pine closets. The smell. I know I was only a few weeks old [when I was placed], but it was a very strong experience — I knew I’d been there before,” he says.
Jerry, who was raised in a closed adoption, had come back to meet his birth mother.
His adoptive parents, John and Sharon Janes, first came to The Cradle in 1966 to adopt Jerry’s older sister, Mary Ann. A year later, they returned to adopt Jerry, who had spent two months in the Nursery. Sharon and John were always open with Jerry about his adoption, but there was very little information available about his birth parents.
After Mary Ann reconnected with her birth family in 1994, she encouraged Jerry to search for his birth family too.
After some searching, Jerry discovered a document with his birth mother’s name on it, and he decided to reach out to The Cradle to see if he could find her. Within an hour of calling The Cradle, Jerry had shared his story and his birth mother’s name with a counselor, and he was faced with a decision: If his counselor could find contact information for his birth mother, would he like to meet her?
Cradle staff were able to locate Jerry’s birth mother within The Cradle’s mutual consent registry (a registry maintained by the agency where birth mothers and adopted individuals can leave their information to be released if the other party ever decides they want to connect). Jerry’s birth mother had up-to-date information in her file, which enabled the counselor to locate and reach out to her right away.
“It progressed really quickly,” Jerry says. “To say I had butterflies in my stomach is an understatement.”
Through his Cradle counselor, Jerry and his birth mother made plans to meet the following weekend at The Cradle. When he arrived that Saturday morning, he was overwhelmed with emotion but also a sense of comfort. After taking a tour of The Cradle, he waited for his birth mother to arrive.
“The few minutes I waited to be introduced to my birth mother were extraordinary,” Jerry says. “To this day I cannot explain it, but I felt completely at peace — at home in a strange way.”
When she arrived, it was as if the world paused for both of them.
“I wouldn’t let go of her. Physically, I didn’t let go,” Jerry says. “I didn’t recognize her visually, but when she spoke to me, it resonated deep down inside.”
The two went for coffee and talked for three hours, catching up on the past 27 years of their lives. “I could not withdraw from [her],” Jerry says. “It was so difficult to part with her that day.”
A few weeks later, Jerry’s birth mother came to visit the home where he was raised. “I wanted her to see where I grew up and to know she made a good decision,” Jerry says. “This was the proof.”
The two eventually fell out of contact, after plans to see each other again repeatedly fell through. Despite this, Jerry never blamed her.
“I am glad she made the decision to place me for adoption for many reasons. My struggles don’t compare to her struggles,” Jerry says. “She’s probably wrestling with this much more than I am, and I have to give her space.”
Now happily married, Jerry lives in Nebraska with his family. He hopes to one day reconnect with his birth mother and introduce her to his son.
“I owe The Cradle my life,” he says. “I’m so happy that things turned out the way they did for me.”
For 100 years and counting, The Cradle has built nurturing families and provided lifelong support to people whose lives have been touched by adoption. Faces of The Cradle is a celebration of their stories. Meet more of the people who make what we do possible and all the more meaningful.
Has The Cradle touched your life in any way? Feeling inspired to share your connection? Submit your story to be considered for inclusion in our Faces of The Cradle gallery.
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