Adoption & Giving Birth: A Consolation Prize?
I have a request for the world – when I talk about adoption, I never ever again want to hear someone say to me, at least you won’t have to give birth. As if that’s some sort of consultation prize for adopting because my body cannot carry a child rather my body just kills them.
To anyone who says at least you won’t have to give birth, I want to respond with:
I have given birth 5 times. The only thing is I have no living baby to show for it. I have given birth, more times then you likely every will. In fact, in order to give birth, I have done so with medications, trying to force my body to expel my baby into a toilet to be flushed away. I have had surgery to forcefully remove my baby because my body wouldn’t cooperate with nature. Oh, and I’ve also had a surgery to end my baby’s life in order to save mine – and there is not a day that goes by that I do not think about this. Yes, I have given birth and I love my children just as you love yours, the only difference is that you get to hug your children every single day, and I do not. So please do not ever tell me my consultation prize for choosing to adopt is that I don’t have to give birth. It is hurtful that you do not count and/or remember my lost babies and my life experiences.
Instead, I say nothing. I sit quietly trying to contain my emotions until I can escape their cruel words. I find myself keeping my mouth shut. I suffer in silence to protect someone else’s view of the world. I keep my feelings of hurt to myself, and continue to allow misunderstanding about miscarriage and adoption to exist.
I am normally pretty open and vocal about our losses and our choice to adopt – I even find myself being more and more open with random people – if people ask if we plan to have children I am honest and say yes, we do. And we are adopting, hopefully soonish. And then I deal with their questions as they come.
Yet, on this particular day, I said nothing. And the reason why is pretty simple, on this day, it was easier. It was easier for me to let it slide then to correct a friend, yet again. It was easier to say nothing then it was for me to find the words to correct them politely without hurting their feelings.
On good days, I will share. On good days I will correct. On good days I will educate.
On other days, I will not. I know myself well enough to know some days I need to take the easy road. Some days I need to protect my heart, and put myself first. And on those days, it’s okay to say nothing and just count my moments until I can run away and lick my wounds in the comfort of my own home and Mr. MPB’s arms.
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