Spending my days online for work often leads me to intriguing personal narratives. Among them, the story of Jamie and Lisa Carter stood out and sparked my curiosity. Back in 1961, Jamie and Lisa were high school sweethearts, enjoying their youth until they found themselves expecting a child. Lisa’s parents sent her to a maternity home for unwed mothers, where she remained until her baby was born and placed for adoption. Jamie managed to visit a few times and met their daughter on the day she was born. Shortly after, Jamie enlisted in the military; upon his return, he proposed to Lisa, who accepted, but her parents disapproved. Ultimately, Jamie and Lisa parted ways (and her parents can go away). Fast forward 53 years, and they reunited, married, and found their daughter through Lutheran Social Services. I can’t believe this hasn’t become a podcast yet, but what lingers in my mind is the reality of how mothers and children were hidden from society and separated against their will. 1961 isn’t that far back—how widespread was this practice? And do such homes still operate today?
In her poignant book, The Girls Who Went Away, author Ann Fessler shares the experiences of predominantly white, middle-class teens and women who were sent to maternity homes amid societal shame. In the two decades before abortion was legalized, around 1.5 million unwed mothers were compelled to give birth and relinquish their children. Families were embarrassed by their “morally corrupt” daughters who became pregnant out of wedlock—conveniently overlooking the male involvement in these situations. In the 1950s, medical professionals deemed unwed mothers as psychologically unfit to raise children, leading to their babies being taken away.
By the mid-1960s, over 80% of women entering maternity homes surrendered their babies for adoption, often influenced by social workers, parents, and court decisions that it was the best option for both mother and child. Moreover, due to systemic racism, unwed Black mothers were not sent away, as they were perceived to be more “promiscuous” and assumed to have more maternal instincts. Social workers also informed both Black and white unwed mothers that there was little interest in adopting Black children. All mothers faced exploitation, albeit for different reasons.
Today, more facilities acknowledge various gender identities of individuals with the ability to conceive, yet discussions about reproductive rights predominantly focus on cisgender women. Transgender men and nonbinary individuals encounter similar obstacles. Despite the Roe v. Wade ruling, decisions about birth control, pregnancy, and abortion often remain subject to external control, typically by cisgender men, leading to stigma. Rather than receiving support, women frequently endure shame and pressure to make decisions that do not align with their actual needs.
Maternity homes still exist but have evolved into spaces that offer refuge for women facing unsafe or unwelcoming environments. Across the country, these homes provide shelter, food, and support to women who may choose to keep their babies or pursue adoption. However, many of these facilities are faith-based, and the option for abortion is often off the table. They aim to inform and support women as they navigate either parenting or adoption. For instance, LifeHouse of Houston offers classes on labor and delivery, financial planning, and job training. Though the daily structure can be rigid and often rooted in religious beliefs, women entering these homes at least understand what they are signing up for. There are about 20 maternity homes in Texas and roughly 350 nationwide, many of which have long waiting lists.
While women today have more autonomy than in the 1960s, the existence of waiting lists for these homes underscores the ongoing failures of society to support women and teens adequately. Sexual education in the U.S. remains inadequate; only 30 states and the District of Columbia mandate it in schools, and the curriculum often falls short of what students truly need. Abstinence is emphasized, nuanced discussions about consent are neglected, and only 11 states provide sex education that is LGBTQIA+ inclusive. The CDC reports that while teen pregnancy rates are declining in the U.S., they remain significantly higher than in other developed nations, and racial and economic disparities in teen birth rates persist.
No expectant parent should feel coerced, shamed, or forced to make decisions about their child due to a lack of familial support or societal systems that provide equitable opportunities. Maternity homes should never have existed for their original purposes, and it is disheartening that they continue to operate, albeit for more compassionate reasons. Stigma, religion, and racism still exert control over those with uteruses.
I’m relieved that Jamie and Lisa’s story concluded happily, including their reunion with their daughter. However, much suffering could have been avoided had Lisa’s autonomy been respected. A pregnant individual deserves safe, clear options when considering their path to parenthood, just as those who do not wish to become parents should have their decisions respected. These choices are deeply personal and should not be subject to debate.
For more insights on reproductive health and options, check out this excellent resource on infertility, and consider exploring animal welfare topics which also relate to broader social issues.
Search Queries:
- Maternity homes history
- Support for unwed mothers
- Reproductive rights today
- Teen pregnancy resources
- Maternity homes in Texas
Summary:
Maternity homes, once a means of separating unwed mothers from their children due to societal shame, still exist today, albeit with a more supportive approach. While they offer refuge and resources for women, the underlying issues of stigma, inadequate sexual education, and systemic inequities remain. The story of Jamie and Lisa highlights the need for respect and autonomy for pregnant individuals, emphasizing that personal choices about parenthood should not be dictated by societal pressures.
