It seems to happen nearly every time our adoption is brought up in public. It’s a simple question, but it possesses much more power than the person asking the question realizes. That question being, “Are you infertile?” I have been asked this question multiple times, in multiple versions. Some of my favorites include:
- When did you find out that you couldn’t have children biologically?
- How long have you been trying?
- So can your old lady have babies? (A personal favorite)
There are many more variations of this question, but these three encapsulate the consensus of what most people think our adoption is based upon: inability to have children biologically. I do not abhor the question, rather I answer it politely and view it as a teachable moment. The lesson in this teachable moment is this: Adoption is about the children. They are the most important part of the equation.
We spend so much of the conversation talking about how great the parents are who are adopting. We often treat adopted children like second-class family members, who should just be thankful that someone decided to go with Plan B. Our minds must change about the motives of adoption. We must believe that each child who is adopted, is someone who was merely waiting on their family. A displaced member of a loving family, who pursued passionately to find them.
I am in no way suggesting that someone who is struggling with infertility should disregard adoption. That’s not the point. Regardless of your circumstance, you need to heavily consider why you’re pursuing adoption. Is it because you want to see lives restored, or because it was the only other option? Do you want to provide a child with a forever home, or are you just looking to fill a bedroom with someone you would have rather had biologically? These questions are essential because they have ramifications for you and your child as you both grow.
If a biological child is what you want, and you are only adopting to try and fill a void, you’re doing yourself and the child a disservice. They deserve to be loved just as a biological child, and if your motives are wrong you will not be able to fulfill this need. This not an attempt to deter anyone from adopting, I am only giving myself and anyone else considering adoption a much needed heart-check.
Imagine for a moment that you’re an adopted child and your parents tell this story to everyone they meet: “Well we really wanted to have biological children, but we couldn’t, so we settled for adoption. It worked out okay, but I really would have loved to have a biological child.” You would feel terrible, right?
The view of adoption as “Plan B” causes people to say things that are incredibly insulting, and the worst part is that they are oblivious to it. Dear friends of ours who have two beautiful daughters were approached by an individual who claimed he and his wife had struggled with infertility, so they decided to start the adoption process. Eventually the two were able to have a child biologically, and stopped their adoption process. He referred to stopping the adoption process as “dodging a bullet.” Dodging a bullet? If you’re considering adoption and you have the same feeling of dread toward the situation, I would beg you to reconsider.
Just as biological birth presents unique challenges, adoption requires certain things of the parent that biological birth does not. Adopted children must carefully (and prayerfully) be introduced to their new surroundings. There is a bonding experience that must happen between the parents and the child; an experience that happens in a different way with a biological child. Adopted children do not just show up and “plug in” to their new home. It takes time and effort.
Adopted children are also not likely to be “brand new” babies. These are children who have experienced traumatic losses very early in life, often not becoming eligible for adoption until the government of their birth country has exhausted every lead for family members. This is another reason you should not mentally equate adoption with “getting a baby.” You may receive an estimated range of age from your adoption agency, but there are no certainties that your referral will be for a child of your preferred age.
There are a number of unknowns in our adoption. Things that we will only discover with experience. But one thing that I am certain of are our reasons for adoption. Abbey and I considered adoption individually before ever meeting each other. I had the honor of traveling to third-world countries and seeing the struggles that children live with every day. From those experiences, I was certain it was for me, and by no mistake or cosmic coincidence I met Abbey; someone who shared that passion.
If Abbey and I were to have a biological child, we would be happy and thankful that God added another child to our family, but we do not concern ourselves with such thoughts right now. We know what we are called to do, and we are certain that our children are somewhere at this very moment, waiting for us. Adoption has been sown into our hearts by God. This was our first choice. Pray, consider, and believe that your adoptive child is just that: your child. There are no replacement family members. “Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight.”
This story originally appeared on Trevor’s blog as, No Distance Too Great, on January 7, 2015.
Trevor and Abbey Callaway are the proud parents of Christiana and Martin, brought home from Bulgaria in August, 2015. Deeply moved by the knowledge that there are still orphans waiting for a home and a family, Trevor’s blog, No Distance Too Great, encourages others to look inside and ask themselves if adoption is part of their journey, too.
The Callaways are also CMomA Adoption Grant recipients!
Leave a comment