Adoption – Your “own” children?
I have had a relatively long familiarity with adoption; my youngest sister was adopted as a baby when I was a teenager. For years before that, my mother was a foster parent for children who were on their way to adoptive families. And as an adult, I have volunteered extensively for foster, adoptive and children’s advocacy organizations. So, basically it has always been something that is sort of “no big deal” to me – some children are born biologically to the parents, some children are adopted. Whichever they are, it really doesn’t matter, it’s just the way they arrived. Like being born C-section or regular birth, with blue eyes or brown eyes. No big deal.
However, I sometimes realize that this familiarity and acceptance of the various ways that families become families is somewhat unusual – in other words, a lot of people actually still seem to feel that an adoptive family isn’t perhaps a “real” family. That adopted kids aren’t really “your” kids. Although most of the people who feel this way, I believe, are just clueless and maybe think that because they have no real experience of it, at the same time it’s a troubling train of thought.
This is on my mind after being brought home to me again, by a woman who has adopted two children from India. She wrote to me after reading my book, to tell me how the book resonated with her and to tell me the story of her family. I wrote about it on this Weight of Silence blog; you can read her story here.
One day she posted about a disturbing encounter she had:
Talking to a very nice lady who was oohing and aahing over our littlest two and how they are so amazing and asking all sorts of questions about their adoption. I asked her if she was thinking of adopting and she exclaimed (in front of Bubbly and Sara), ‘Oh no! I want to have my OWN children.'”
I realize that the woman in question meant no harm, but was rather ignorant and extremely insensitive. However, this type of belief and attitude is very disturbing. Especially when there are “real” parents all over the world, by the millions, who aren’t any kind of parents at all. Who abuse their kids, neglect them, abandon them…and then there are the parents and children who were meant to be families from the start, and who find each other because they are parents and children of the heart, which is just as strong as blood.
It is one of the strongest, most important lessons I have learned all through my life: Genetics have NOTHING to do with what makes a family. Family is all about love.
Pass it on.