Adoption does not stop after the signature

When Flanders banned international adoption last week, the message was clear: the best interests of the child come first. But for thousands of adoptees, aftercare remains inadequate. VUB student Ignace Ismayilov knows what he is writing about: as a child, he was illegally removed from his biological parents, after which the system legally whitewashed that abduction. What remains when the product has been delivered and the guarantee period expires?

A few months ago, Flemish Minister Caroline Gennez supported Groen's proposal to ban transnational adoption in Flanders. The best interests of the child must take precedence, she stated. Last week, that proposal was effectively implemented, but for thousands of adoptees, aftercare remains inadequate. 

Support in Belgium stops as soon as the adoption is finalised: everything before that is arranged down to the last detail, but afterwards, it remains remarkably quiet. As an internationally adopted person, I received no structural guidance whatsoever regarding identity development, loss, or trauma. No psychologist with knowledge of adoption trauma. No support when I found my family after years of searching. The system guides adults' choice to adopt but often leaves the adopted person alone with the consequences.

However, the Law of 24 April 2003 explicitly states that adoption can only take place 'in the best interests of the child' and that prospective adoptive parents must be informed about the importance of aftercare. But there is a gap between 'providing information about aftercare' and a right to aftercare. Support ends as soon as the procedure is complete, and all burdens fall on the child.

Market logic: when a child becomes a product risk

My life did not begin with a choice. As a child, I was illegally taken away from my biological parents, after which the adoption system subsequently legally whitewashed that abduction into a lawful adoption. In my file, even the judge was shot , yet the adoption went ahead and no one asked any questions.

My story is no exception, but an uncomfortable truth that many adoption agencies prefer to leave unspoken: adoption is not just care, it is also a market. There is a demand for children, and therefore also a supply that they try to meet. The intercountry adoption process is increasingly viewed as a business model that focuses on the wishes of prospective adoptive parents, rather than on the best interests of the child. Misca calls intercountry adoption the 'silent migration' of children, in which vulnerable children are moved from the Global South to the West. Together with Young, she demonstrates how intercountry adoption has shifted from humanitarian aid to a market-driven policy.

Procedures, mediators, certificates, selection… lawyer and adoption researcher Martha Ertman calls it 'the commodification of children' in adoption systems: the risk that children are treated 'as objects, and therefore not persons, within a transaction'.

The Belgian government now acknowledges that since the 1950s, up to 30,000 children may have been involved in domestic adoptions whose biological parents were informed little or not at all. Despite indications of similar practices in international adoptions, no equally systematic investigation into those cases has been launched to date. My adoption was legalised without verification of the truth, without checking the origin, and without aftercare. The government acknowledges that the system was vulnerable to abuse. But it is adoptees themselves who must process those abuses. 

When I wanted to reconstruct my ancestry as an adult, I paid for everything myself: the roots trip, visas, and DNA tests. But the guidance was also lacking, and because of this, I felt this market logic once again: the product has been delivered and the warranty period has expired. 

The adopted as a “blank slate”

Much of the discourse surrounding adoption remains stuck in a rescue narrative: the child 'gets a better life'. According to Homans, adoptees are raised narratively: you must be grateful, not show “difficult” emotions, and confirm the “beautiful” adoption story. As a result, not only is our origin rewritten, but we ourselves are as well.

Gratitude thus becomes a moral obligation. Anyone who speaks about loss, trauma, or anger risks being seen as ungrateful. For many adoptees, this moral obligation is precisely a barrier to talking about difficulties within adoption. 

But we did not choose adoption. Others made this choice for us, and often without complete information. The logic must therefore be reversed: it is not the adopted person who should be grateful for adoption, but adoption that should be grateful for the child. Without a child, there is no adoption. 

In many adoption files, there is the same undertone: From here, your real life begins . What happened before the adoption seems not to count. But that past does exist. The culture, the first language, the first country, the birth, and the loss: everything is already fixed before we have lived a single second with our adoptive families.

When you adopt a child, you also adopt their history. Not acknowledging that the past is not protection; it is dehumanisation.

There is an alternative: aftercare as a right

If adoption truly aims to place 'the best interests of the child' at the centre, adoptees must be granted a legal right to post-adoption care, including specialized psychological counseling regarding identity, loss, and trauma. Additionally, it is essential that adoptees are given the opportunity to explore their heritage. A fund that finances roots journeys and potential family reunification can offer an important form of restorative mediation in this regard. 

But above all, transparency must be central: adoption files should be actively reconstructed, if necessary with international cooperation, so that adoptees gain access to accurate information about their past. Policy should not focus solely on the number of adoptions, but also on the long-term well-being outcomes of adoptees, by reporting on this annually. In this way, adoptees are seen as human beings and not as objects. 

Adoption does not stop at the signature. For the system, it ends; for us, it only begins there.