I WAS 'REHOMED' — AND IT SAVED MY LIFE
Orphan Ana Shurmer was given up by her first adoptive family. Now, she recalls how the pain has helped her flourish
Ana Shurmer was adopted by a wealthy Maryland family from an orphanage in Latvia when she was 7.
Five years later, after struggles with self-harm and behavioral issues, her adoptive parents had her “rehomed” — they sent her to live permanently with another family.
She thinks the rush to judge YouTubers Myka and James Stauffer — parents who have come under fire online because they rehomed their 3-year-old adopted autistic son, Huxley — is a mistake. “I could tell you they probably tried everything that they could,” she says.
Here, Shurmer, 31, tells The Post’s SUZY WEISS about being rehomed and how she overcame her challenging childhood to ultimately thrive with two sets of adoptive parents.
IN Latvia, I lived with a drug-addicted mom and a baby brother who wasn’t being taken care of. I had a lot of emotional trauma that I couldn’t explain later in life. I found out as an adult that I was born with fetal alcohol syndrome to a 15-year-old mom and was classified as “retarded” by Latvian doctors.
At the age of 3, I was moved to an orphanage, where I lived for four years until I was adopted by a very nice, wealthy couple from Maryland. They already had one other adopted child, as well as their own two biological children, and they adopted four other kids from Latvia around the same time as me, so it was a big family. Things were good for about a year.
Even though I had a piece of home through my new siblings, three of whom had been at the same orphanage, it didn’t stop me from acting out in school. I wasn’t getting along with my mom at all. It was beyond “we didn’t click.” I would scream for hours in a locked room and hurt myself. And I didn’t know what was going on. I was about 8, and there was a major language barrier.
My adoptive parents did everything: Family therapy, every type of doctor, brain scans, just to see what was going on medically. They put me on a bunch of antidepressants. There was a point where I was on anti-seizure medication just to wear me out. I was also diagnosed with autism,
I got kicked out of every school in the Maryland area, so I was shipped off to boarding school in Virginia, but I was still acting out. I was about 10 or 11 at the time.
Of course, all of this took a toll on my family and my other siblings. They tried to help me for a good five years — it’s not like they tried me out for a year and thought, “This isn’t working out, let’s move on.”
One day, my parents sat me down and said, “We have some friends of ours who are interested in meeting you.”
I arrived in Ohio to meet this small family — they just have one daughter. It was kind of awkward, obviously. They said, “We’re so glad to have you. Welcome to your forever home.” I said, “Um, this is only for two weeks, I have a ticket home.” And that’s when they told me I wouldn’t be going back. I was confused, sad and angry.
My first adoptive family was very liberal and open. This one was ultra-religious Christian. Religion ran their life. It was a culture shock all over again.
These new parents renamed me Rachel. My little sister was Leah, so they wanted to do a whole Bible vibe, but at 11 years old, you can’t just change a kid’s name. Rachel didn’t really stick.
I started to get really comfortable after about seven months. It was a different, less crowded family atmosphere.
I got more one-on-one time — and I was home-schooled, which was huge for me and my behavior problems. I didn’t feel like I was being confined to a system. I really excelled in schoolwork at this point.
My new parents also taught me how to socialize. I didn’t know that beating up kids that I was threatened by wasn’t right. At the orphanage, if someone tried to take your doll in the middle of the night, you punched them! I learned to share and that I didn’t have to always be so aggressive.
After about a year in Ohio, my adoptive parents asked if I wanted to have a relationship with my Maryland family. We started writing letters and sending birthday gifts. Everything was on my terms.
But I was never upset or bitter. In the long run, it was for the best. I did a lot of things I never thought I would be able to do. I graduated high school, I learned to drive. I never thought I’d be able to hold down a job, but as a teen, I had my own lawn mowing business and a baby-sitting business.
I learned about having a work ethic, about honesty and loyalty. It’s common sense to people, but I had no idea about these things.
Between the two families, I have 10 siblings who are all fantastic. I also found my biological brother in Eastern Europe on social media. It was bittersweet to meet him because he had a much harder life, growing up on the streets since he was 14.
I think my first adoptive parents were ashamed of rehoming me. They didn’t want to tell anybody what they had done. They always made up excuses to their friends for where I was, which wasn’t unusual because when I lived with them, I was always at boarding school or at a treatment center. As I got older and reconnected with friends from Maryland, I explained what had really happened. I told them not to blame my parents — that they just could not handle who I was and what I needed.
When I heard about Huxley’s situation, I thought of my own. There’s a lot of medical needs there, and we don’t see the struggle or the fight. We don’t know the family dynamic. At a certain point, you have to seek other methods for the safety and happiness of the child.
My first adoptive mom owned an adoption agency. I went to help her out with paperwork and such a couple years ago and learned rehoming is not that uncommon. Parents are not always taking the proper counseling lessons to prepare for such a drastic change. They aren’t prepared — my parents weren’t.
For me, being rehomed was like a rebirth and the chance to get the help that I needed. If I wasn’t rehomed, I would probably be in an institution.