Dawn isn't talking about the family that sent their son back to Russia. Because she's smart, sensible and articulate (in short, she's Dawn), she's made more sense in a three-paragraph post about why she can't talk than most people have in long, vituperative screeds.
A friend of mine who adopted her daughter from Ethiopia says that adoption always starts with a tragedy. Sometimes it's the tragedy of lack of money or family resources that keeps a woman from parenting her child (like Dawn's daughter Madison and my Eve); sometimes it's the tragedy of parents dying, like my friend's daughter from Ethiopia, and sometimes it's the tragedy and crime of children who are stolen from their parents.
All adoptions start with tragedy, but few end with tragedy, and that's what happened here. You can find any number of sites on the Internet to read about how evil and wicked and horrible the adoptive family is, and how egomaniacal and selfish and exploitative adoptive parents are in general. I'm not going to recapitulate those arguments. I don't know the Hansens. I do know a family who chose to place their son, also adopted from Russia, after struggling to manage his rage and violence for three years. They sought help from pediatricians and psychologists and psychiatrists, but had no support from their agency and no access to professionals with skill and experience in post-adoption issues.
I won't vilify the parents I know, or the Hansens. Dawn is right - this isn't about adoption alone; it also happens in biological families. When it happens in adoptive families, though, I will lay at least some blame at the doorstep of the adoption agencies. Our own disruptions were far less tragic - Rose and Jesse went back to parents who wanted them. They had two loving families available. That was tragedy to us, but not to the babies. Even so, those disruptions happened because the agency didn't take appropriate responsibility for their behavior toward first mothers. They minimized the impact of the trauma on all members of the triad and offered no resources to any of us after the papers were signed and the checks had cleared.
So many people have such scathing words to say about the Hansens; it must be easy for them to do so, to use their anger and scorn to distance themselves from this unspeakable act. To say "I would never do that". And maybe there are mothers and fathers who walk away from children without a second thought, without guilt and fear and panic and regret. Maybe they exist, but I don't know any. I only know parents - biological and adoptive - who live every day wondering about the fate of the child they lost, and who surrendered that child because they saw no other choice. I only know parents who want to be good parents, and who are betrayed by the very institutions that are supposed to help them achieve that goal.
Torry Hansen will not get the chance to parent another child. If this were just about her, then we wouldn't need to do anything else to make sure it never happens again. Unfortunately, it's not just about her, and we do need to do something - a great many somethings - to make sure this never happens again, starting with reforming the international adoption process, providing resources to support parents both in the US and in other countries, and holding adoption agencies accountable to all the families they serve.