LGBTQ+ parents rush to adopt their children before Trump is sworn in

Attorneys have been inundated with requests for adoptions, a safeguard some queer families are using to make sure they retain parental rights to their nonbiological kids before a second Trump administration that may be hostile to LGBTQ+ people.

by Chabeli Carrazana, for The 19th

After three rounds of fertility treatments, Haley Swenson and her wife, Alieza Durana, had a baby boy in March 2023. Because Swenson carried their baby and was the biological mother, only she was seen as the parent in the eyes of the law. Durana would have to adopt her own son.

That process is expensive—at least a couple thousand dollars—so they put it off as the costs of raising an infant mounted. But the day after Donald Trump was reelected, the couple felt a new urgency: Would the incoming administration strip away their rights to call themselves moms? They had to seriously consider taking extra steps to ensure their child would, legally, always be considered theirs.

Ahead of a second Trump administration that is likely to be hostile to LGBTQ+ people, queer parents across the country are calling attorneys and researching how they can protect themselves in the event that a Republican-controlled White House and Congress attempts to strip back protections for LGBTQ+ families.

Project 2025, the 920-page document that lays out priorities for a second Trump term, envisions a federal government that uplifts families made up of a married mother and father, while undermining LGBTQ+ parents. Policies focused on supporting LGBTQ+ equity “should be repealed and replaced by policies that support the formation of stable, married, nuclear families,” the document states. The courts could also take up LGBTQ+ equity cases. When Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022, Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas indicated the court may consider revisiting other cases, including Obergefell v. Hodges, which secured marriage equality for LGBTQ+ couples.

“It’s unclear what they want to do, and that lack of specificity is what’s really scary if you’re a queer parent because you don’t really know how to protect yourself,” Swenson said. “So since we know there was this one thing we could do to protect ourselves, and we hadn’t done it yet, it was like, ‘OK, there are so many unknowns—let’s at least take care of what we can.”