By Karen Constantine, published by Pram Publications

This book is a difficult read, dealing with a subject that has been swept under the proverbial carpet for decades, namely the scandal of forced adoption which was prevalent across the UK in the post-war years and continued in some instances until the 1980s despite government attempts to strengthen legislation with the 1975 Children’s Act and the 1976 Adoption Act.
“In common with many of the young women dispatched by their families, or their church, social workers and moral welfare officers, Anna and her baby were reduced to a problem to be hidden and disposed of. She was expected to comply, and after the trauma of birth and forced separation, Anna and the others in her cohort were expected to resume their lives as if nothing had happened. For most, decades of traumatic silence passed before they could speak out.”
Anna’s story is just one of many heartbreaking testimonies gathered by Constantine in an attempt to expose the deep injustices experienced by single young women and girls from all socio-economic backgrounds who found themselves pregnant and were placed in so-called mother and baby homes where they often endured forced labour and were coerced into giving up their babies. Alongside the testimonies of the mothers, many now in their 70s, “Taken: Experiences of Forced Adoption” also includes conversations with adoptees who often display signs of generational trauma even when recounting happy childhoods spent with kind and caring adoptive parents, and this was certainly not the norm, as we discover from the varied accounts. Rather, even happy adoptees face identity crises when learning they have another mother, unknown and often untraceable.
The mammoth task of trying to find lost blood relations, coming up against huge obstacles, particularly prior to the internet age, is recounted by women robbed of their children, by adult adoptees and other family members. For most mothers, the pain of separation stays with them forever, even if they try to bury it as they are expected to do. Many have lifelong mental health problems, developing suicide ideation and even succeeding in taking their own lives. Others grow old and frail, succumbing before reuniting with their adult children. The case of Nickie racing to reach a dying mother during COVID is almost unbearable to read.
The book is all the more powerful due to the author’s own experience as a teenage mum who was sent away to have her baby and subjected to immense pressure. Her story ends happily enough, but not so the majority of birth mothers caught up in this cruel system of abuse.
There are likely millions of people affected by forced adoption, far more than those affected by the infected blood scandal, the Post Office Horizon debacle, Hillsborough or Orgreave, all of which are acknowledged as terrible wrongs which could and should have been avoided, and for which the Government has now made an apology and/or, in some cases, reparations. However, no such apology has yet been forthcoming for the victims of forced adoption, despite the recommendations of Harriet Harman’s excellent Commission. The response of the former Education Minister at the time, Nadim Zahawi, was mealy-mouthed and disappointing to say the least.
The Movement for an Adoption Apology (MAA) continue with their campaign regardless, drawing more and more people into the movement. They have set out a series of modest demands, and local radio and regional TV programmes have helped raise awareness, for example, laying bare the horrific conditions at St Monica’s in Kendal and asking questions about the unmarked graves of dozens of newborns who died without proper care, such as Judy’s baby who was born with spina bifida and hydrocephalus and was subsequently denied access to specialist medical treatment. The nuns who ran many of these vile mother and baby homes seemed to believe themselves to be above the law; armed with only a rudimentary knowledge of obstetrics, some of them attempted to practise midwifery. The birth stories are horrific, excruciating memories etched forever in the minds and bodies of the traumatised mothers.
Many of the campaigners, including Constantine, express frustration with politicians who they believe are prevaricating in the full knowledge that the young mothers who were coerced into giving up their babies are now elderly women, reaching the end of their lives. In this respect, there are parallels with the WASPI campaign.
Along with heartbreaking testimonies, the publication includes an extensive bibliography, a list of useful organisations and resources, and an overview of the relevant human rights framework, which clearly points to the need for government action. The author suggests that the failure to make a formal apology “hints at weak values and a lack of moral fibre at the heart of government”. Indeed, we expect much more of a Labour administration headed up by a former human rights lawyer.
Constantine’s book is timely, and her personal and political experience adds weight to the argument – she knows that anything is possible with political will, and why it is important to right a historic injustice.

