There I was, innocently cruising Facebook, when the words leapt off the screen and crashed into my skull:
“An adopted child is the replacement option because of fertility issues.”
“I absolutely support abortion over adoption.”
“I have always wondered: ‘If God wanted aps (adoptive parents) to have babies, why did he render them infertile?’ “
I spent years entertaining knee-jerk reactions. Shoot, I’ve practically got a degree in No-You-DIDN’T. But lately I’ve realized my violent responses usually hide a nugget or two – sometimes it’s truth, certainly it’s a learning opportunity.
We were diagnosed with unexplained infertility which, best I can tell, is the medical jargon equivalent of “hmm…nope, no clue why you’re not getting knocked up.” It’s a very whatevs conclusion, but we made our peace with it.
I’ve heard adoptees refer to themselves as Plan B – their parents couldn’t have a biological child so they were the backup plan. Some people hear backup and think “to the rescue,” but here? This has “second choice” written all over it, and what a tragic conclusion to draw about your place in a family. I can only pray our kids never feel like they’re some sort of consolation prize.
As for believing our kids would have been better off aborted than adopted…well, I hardly know where to start. I acknowledge this person’s pain. A comment like that comes from such an emotionally scarred place, it’s almost unfathomable. As a non-adopted person I have zero chance of grasping this emotion. All I can do is recognize the depth of their trauma.
There’s a certain logic to this backlash – as offensive as this statement is to me, the adoptive community’s premise that our families are part of “God’s plan” is equally repugnant to adoptees. Another comment, quite similar to this, also stuck with me. The woman asked why infertile couples felt they were owed the “right” to parent. That if you don’t get pregnant then maybe that is God’s plan for you.
I have to admit that gave me pause. It genuinely never occurred to me – not once – that not getting pregnant meant I wasn’t going to parent. And as I reread that sentence I realize it is the height of adoptive parent arrogance, but I promised brutal truth on here so there it is.
I accepted long ago that I will not understand my life’s twists and turns. I have an exceptionally human brain, and thinking I can understand the greater design at work is pure folly. I’m playing the long game here, and the long game means trusting I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.