As we approach the tenth anniversary of the enactment of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, which recognized "that the child, for the full and harmonious development of his or her personality should grow up in a family environment, in an atmosphere of happiness, love and understanding", international adoption continues to grow rapidly, spurring both a definition of procedures and the challenge of deep ethical concerns.

Six years ago, I was reunited with the son I relinquished for adoption in 1966. Twenty-seven years had elapsed since I last saw him as a five-day-old infant. Contrary to the conventional wisdom of the times, I never forgot him. I continued to love him and wandered how he was faring, how he was being raised. I fantasized about how he might look, what interests he might have. As it happens, he loves his parents and is proud to be a part of his adoptive family. Nevertheless, he did wonder about the circumstances of his life and ultimately felt he needed to know more about his genetic roots. He told me he needed to know that, to be able to put the pieces of his life together so that he could feel whole.

My son needed a connection with me and his personal birth history. I needed to know how he was. Now that we have met, the intergenerational genetic and cultural link has been restored. My mother can share pieces of our family lore with her great grandchildren, and my son has the benefit of being connected to a large extended birth and adoptive family. Every time I see him and the children, or look at their pictures, I never fail to shudder at the possibility that I might never have known them. In our case, it took 27 years. Where adoption relationships are more open from their inception, the link is never severed.

Transculturally, adopted children have the same needs which may be compounded by the loss of national identity and obvious differences between them and their adoptive families. We are seeing that adopted adults are returning to their country of origin in search of their cultural-and individual-identity. "Motherland" trips are organized for adopted people seeking a connection with their heritage. In some countries, accommodations are made available to returning adoptees. Sadly, while they may be able to visit their country of origin and the orphanage they came through, in most cases they are unable to locate their birth family. Although it is generally recognized that preserving a sense of cultural identity is of value for the adopted individual, agencies in sending and receiving countries, as well as prospective adoptive parents, do not always recognize the value of preserving family connections.

Both the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) and the Hague Convention on Intercountry Adoption state that adoption should serve the best interests of the child. They recognize each child's inherent right to his individual, national, ethnic and religious identity. The CRC asserts that a child is not simply in need of protection, but also has fundamental rights, including a name at birth and "as far as possible the right to know and be cared for by his or her parents". As I see it, even when intercountry adoption is deemed appropriate because it is not possible for a child to be cared for by the birth family (or to be adopted in the country of origin), wherever possible, that child still has the right to know who that family is.

As all countries confront the challenges of both in-country and intercountry adoption, we must consider as a global community whether we are serving the best interests of the child when we create obstacles for adopted individuals seeking information about their basic identity. Birth families who are able to come forward as parties to an adoption also need to be given information about their children. I have visited orphanages where it is presumed that birth mothers do not continue to care about their children, that they should not meet the adoptive parents or be informed of their child's country of destination. And yet, I am told that when hurricanes or other natural disasters occur, birth mothers, who have no idea where their children are, come back to the orphanages and agencies wanting to know if they are all right. The Hague Convention sets standards which will help eliminate the problem of forced adoptions and baby trafficking; we also need to recognize the birth mother's inherent interest in the long-term welfare of her child.

As countries move to embrace the principles of the CRC and the standards being set by the Hague Convention, I appeal to the children's countries of origin to establish, to the extent possible, opportunities for birth families to remain connected to their children, and to make all possible efforts to gather and preserve information. I also urge agencies and prospective adoptive parents in receiving countries to make every effort to gather as much information as possible, to meet with birth parents or other care givers, and to maintain some form of contact. Having personally witnessed an evolution in my society's understanding of adoption, I have seen how experience and education can change our perception. There are some signs of change as well in intercountry adoption practices. We are starting to see some children coming with letters from their birth mothers who are often risking their own well-being in reaching out to adoptive families for the sake of their children. Some adoptive families are also making connections with birth families when they can locate them, and reunions are taking place.

As a birth mother who enjoys playing with my grandchildren, I am hopeful that, despite cultural challenges, both sending and receiving countries will set standards that put the needs of our children first.

Lynn C. Franklin is the author of May the Circle Be Unbroken: An Intimate Journey Into the Heart of Adoption (Harmony Books, 1998).