Sometimes folks just do not know the language to use around adoption. Sometimes they are unaware of the impact that words can have. I was just reminded by both clients I work with and my own experience as the adoptive and very real parent of three children how important it is to use the right language when it comes to adoptive families. So here is my own list of then things not to say about “real parents” or “real family.”
· “Blood is thicker than water.” So are molasses, honey, and concrete. My blood did not make me love my children before I even knew who they were. My heart did. And my hands were the ones who bandaged them and held them when they had bloody knees or elbows. Blood does not make a family. If it did we would all be married to our relatives. Love makes a family, and it made ours. And we really are a real family.
· “I’m the real (mom/dad/grandparent/aunt).” I wish you could have been for my child’s sake. They lost many of their connections when they had to be removed from their birth parents for reasons that are private and hurtful. My child would have loved to have not experienced that trauma and not to grow up wondering what happened to all of you and why foster care was their only solution. But they became my child, and the child of our entire extended family. Their real parents are the ones who tuck them into bed at night, take them to school, fight over curfews, put on braces, provide a loving home, food on the table, warm beds, and family vacations. We are the ones who make sure they get to school, church, friends, activities, the mall, driver’s ed, Brownies, ice skating, horseback riding… and their extended real family are the ones who welcomed them into the family and came to the plays, games, birthday parties, graduations. That does not mean you might not be welcome. We have kids who are lucky enough to know their birth grandparents. One child gets to go see her grandpa and his wife and knows that entire family. The other two have developed a relationship with another set of grandparents. They have ties to siblings. Big events are immediately texted and called to them. We are the richer for it. One loves her birth mom’s parents tremendously. It has helped her find peace with her mom’s story. But it has to be on the child’s terms, at their pace. And with the support of the family.
· “When you are done with them we will take them back.” Or- “Are you going to send them to their real family when they are adults?” Really? Like a return at Wal Mart? They are our children. We wanted them before they were born. We wanted them although we were warned about behaviors and issues and risks. We love them unconditionally. And they are not returnable. Please do not tell them, if you are fortunate enough to be in contact with them, that at age 18 they can come “home.” This is home. Where they grew up, know their neighbors, have school friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, church or temple friends, and the lifelong connections that will always be theirs. Please do not tell them that at 18 any child is mature enough to suddenly be able to process the intense feelings about their experience enough to go visit people they do not know who are going to tell them they are their “real” family. How many truly mature 18 year olds do you know?
· Who are the “real siblings?” All of them. They have my name. They just introduced themselves to you as siblings. Can I ask which one of your children really belongs to the UPS guy? Why would you even think about asking that? And yes, they have more siblings. When they introduce their other siblings as their brother or sister, please do not ask who, why, how. Adopted kids sometimes have very complicated family trees. They consider their birth sibs to be a sib as much as their other sibs, and their birth sibs’ other sibs are theirs as well. I know it’s hard for many of you, but it’s simple to them. Their families are large and spread, and they are the richer for it. Please do not ask who is a “half” or a “whole.” We will not ask who your mom slept with if you do not ask our children.
· “Why did you take a child who does not look like you?” Children do not come in catalogs. I would bet yours didn’t either. The interesting thing is that as our kids have gotten older, they do resemble us. Not in their eyes or their hands. They look like their birth families. And I am glad for that. But their expressions, their senses of humor, their world view- that came from home. And will go with them. Pointing out that we do not look alike can be hurtful to a child. I am not at all sure why anyone would feel it is necessary to do so. Even if we had the same hair color, I would never know it because I haven’t seen my “real” hair in ten years or more. I look like their mom because I am the one protecting them, hugging them, and holding their hands. I will be the one walking them down the aisle. I will be the one crying at graduations. Just like every other mom.
· “Why did you adopt? How can you love a child who isn’t really yours?” Or, “I’m grateful to you for loving my child/grandchild/niece/nephew and providing a place for them to live.” Umm, did I ask you why you gave birth? Do you ask stepparents if they love the kids they are raising? My child is my child. I love them because they are my child. That child was wanted, worked for, and loved long before they even existed. They really are mine. A uterus does not a mother make. The love of a mother for a child make a mom. And I am not a temporary shelter housing a birth relative of yours. I am that child’s parent. I do not need anyone to be grateful (well, ok, maybe a little gratefulness from a teenager would be nice occasionally. I think that’s probably every parent.) While others experience unexpected pregnancies, adoptive parents have to have their homes physically approved, medical exams, home studies that are invasive and exhausting, go through classes, and then pray that a child who needs a family will eventually be found for them. There are no accidental adoptions. There are only parents who wanted that child, and were prepared to go through all of that for the honor and privilege of being that child’s parent. And we take that role and that title seriously.
Thanks for listening.
· “Blood is thicker than water.” So are molasses, honey, and concrete. My blood did not make me love my children before I even knew who they were. My heart did. And my hands were the ones who bandaged them and held them when they had bloody knees or elbows. Blood does not make a family. If it did we would all be married to our relatives. Love makes a family, and it made ours. And we really are a real family.
· “I’m the real (mom/dad/grandparent/aunt).” I wish you could have been for my child’s sake. They lost many of their connections when they had to be removed from their birth parents for reasons that are private and hurtful. My child would have loved to have not experienced that trauma and not to grow up wondering what happened to all of you and why foster care was their only solution. But they became my child, and the child of our entire extended family. Their real parents are the ones who tuck them into bed at night, take them to school, fight over curfews, put on braces, provide a loving home, food on the table, warm beds, and family vacations. We are the ones who make sure they get to school, church, friends, activities, the mall, driver’s ed, Brownies, ice skating, horseback riding… and their extended real family are the ones who welcomed them into the family and came to the plays, games, birthday parties, graduations. That does not mean you might not be welcome. We have kids who are lucky enough to know their birth grandparents. One child gets to go see her grandpa and his wife and knows that entire family. The other two have developed a relationship with another set of grandparents. They have ties to siblings. Big events are immediately texted and called to them. We are the richer for it. One loves her birth mom’s parents tremendously. It has helped her find peace with her mom’s story. But it has to be on the child’s terms, at their pace. And with the support of the family.
· “When you are done with them we will take them back.” Or- “Are you going to send them to their real family when they are adults?” Really? Like a return at Wal Mart? They are our children. We wanted them before they were born. We wanted them although we were warned about behaviors and issues and risks. We love them unconditionally. And they are not returnable. Please do not tell them, if you are fortunate enough to be in contact with them, that at age 18 they can come “home.” This is home. Where they grew up, know their neighbors, have school friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, church or temple friends, and the lifelong connections that will always be theirs. Please do not tell them that at 18 any child is mature enough to suddenly be able to process the intense feelings about their experience enough to go visit people they do not know who are going to tell them they are their “real” family. How many truly mature 18 year olds do you know?
· Who are the “real siblings?” All of them. They have my name. They just introduced themselves to you as siblings. Can I ask which one of your children really belongs to the UPS guy? Why would you even think about asking that? And yes, they have more siblings. When they introduce their other siblings as their brother or sister, please do not ask who, why, how. Adopted kids sometimes have very complicated family trees. They consider their birth sibs to be a sib as much as their other sibs, and their birth sibs’ other sibs are theirs as well. I know it’s hard for many of you, but it’s simple to them. Their families are large and spread, and they are the richer for it. Please do not ask who is a “half” or a “whole.” We will not ask who your mom slept with if you do not ask our children.
· “Why did you take a child who does not look like you?” Children do not come in catalogs. I would bet yours didn’t either. The interesting thing is that as our kids have gotten older, they do resemble us. Not in their eyes or their hands. They look like their birth families. And I am glad for that. But their expressions, their senses of humor, their world view- that came from home. And will go with them. Pointing out that we do not look alike can be hurtful to a child. I am not at all sure why anyone would feel it is necessary to do so. Even if we had the same hair color, I would never know it because I haven’t seen my “real” hair in ten years or more. I look like their mom because I am the one protecting them, hugging them, and holding their hands. I will be the one walking them down the aisle. I will be the one crying at graduations. Just like every other mom.
· “Why did you adopt? How can you love a child who isn’t really yours?” Or, “I’m grateful to you for loving my child/grandchild/niece/nephew and providing a place for them to live.” Umm, did I ask you why you gave birth? Do you ask stepparents if they love the kids they are raising? My child is my child. I love them because they are my child. That child was wanted, worked for, and loved long before they even existed. They really are mine. A uterus does not a mother make. The love of a mother for a child make a mom. And I am not a temporary shelter housing a birth relative of yours. I am that child’s parent. I do not need anyone to be grateful (well, ok, maybe a little gratefulness from a teenager would be nice occasionally. I think that’s probably every parent.) While others experience unexpected pregnancies, adoptive parents have to have their homes physically approved, medical exams, home studies that are invasive and exhausting, go through classes, and then pray that a child who needs a family will eventually be found for them. There are no accidental adoptions. There are only parents who wanted that child, and were prepared to go through all of that for the honor and privilege of being that child’s parent. And we take that role and that title seriously.
Thanks for listening.
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