I Assure You I Couldn’t Love My Adopted Children More

I’ve gotten better about my “adoption triggers.” I’m less sensitive than I used to be. I don’t get all inwardly worked up like I did in the past. There are still things that really bother me about this adoption reality, though. I don’t like it, to put it mildly, when anyone but me gets called their mom and I don’t like it when it is implied that the kids aren’t truly mine because they are, in every way that matters. Beyond that, I get that people don’t always know what the right thing is to say or not to say. And, generally, there is no malice intended.

I don’t usually ask people to share my posts. But, I’m going to ask you to share this one.  I want…no, I need as many people as possible to understand that these are my kids. There is no difference for us, emotionally.  The emotional attachment between our children and us is not any different than it would have been if they were our biological children. And if we also had biological kids, those kids wouldn’t be more ours than these four.

There are a lot of facebook adoption groups who focus on the feelings of the birth mothers and I totally respect that. But, when it comes down to it, what I care about is the needs and feelings of my kids. More than anything else. And what I think they need is to be secure and know that we completely accept them as our children.

Adoption Is No Different

Why am I ranting again?  Because it happened again.  It wasn’t overt.  But, it was there.  It was the never-ending mentality that there is a difference.  I mean, of course there is technically a difference. But, adoption was just a different way for us to become parents. When I look at them, I don’t see my adopted children. I look at them and just see my children. (And probably their stuff that they’ve left on the floor, ha.) They don’t look anything like us. We are pale white, maybe even pink. And they are beautifully black.  But, still, all I see are my children. That’s it.

But, will the world ever stop seeing my “adopted” children? Doubt it. And, really, that’s ok. I can’t control what’s in people’s minds and I’m not even bothered by it. (Ok, I’m bothered by it, but what are you gonna do?) But, what really does bother me is when the “you’re different because you’re adopted” message is potentially sent to my kids. Particularly when it’s in a professional setting and I expect them to “know better.”

Story time

Ok, here’s my story.

Kaleb doesn’t go to the same doctor as the younger three. And despite the fact that I know I have mentioned him, the doctor was surprised to hear of his existence at the younger boys’ last appointment. And when I explained that he goes to a different doctor, she was confused and then said,

“Oh! He’s YOUR son?”

Not really understanding the question but knowing the answer, I casually said “Yes.”

But, then, just a moment too late, I realized that she had put emphasis on the “your son.” And I knew that she was thinking that I had a biological son at home. And it bothered me. I wanted to explain to her that my son at home was their biological brother but not my biological son so he was no different from them.  Then I wanted to tell her that if I did indeed have a biological son at home, he wouldn’t be more “MY” child than my kiddos sitting in the doctor’s office.

But, it was too late. Or if felt too late.  There was no way to not awkwardly point out her subtle inflection. I’m sure it would come off like I was being overly-sensitive.  Or like I was playing the adoption card. So instead, I have to take comfort in the fact that when she asked if he was my son, I reflexively said yes, because he is.

Adoption Reality Can Be Complicated

I know it’s exhausting these days. Everyone is offended by everything. Some of the issues are more valid than others. This one feels valid to me. And, yes, we chose this reality and we have to live with it (I mean that in the best possible way.). But, still, please, could you try not to make my kids feel different? They already feel different. Their histories are a bit more complex than most other kids’. And, heck, please, try not to make me feel different. I already feel different, too. But, I don’t have the same excuse, I’m just nutty. 😉