If you can’t get it at Lowe’s

Confession: Most testimonies by adoptive parents really annoy me.

It isn’t really the testimonies or the adoptive parents, it’s simply that these stories oversaturate the adoption triad and the adoptee and birth parent voices are scarce.

A few weeks ago I was at a women’s event during which, one of the board members shared her testimony. She talked about her upbringing, how she met her husband, the difficulties of infertility, her experience becoming an adoptive parent and closed by sharing what God has taught her along the way. In one of her reflections about how she and her husband came to the decision on adoption, she shared that her husband’s mindset was, “if you can’t get it from Lowe’s, get it from Home Depot.” She chuckled a little bit as she mimicked his voice tone and inflection and I could hear the chuckles ripple throughout the room. Meanwhile, I sat there with outward calm but on the inside I was raging with hurt, disgust, and anger. In my mind, there were so many things wrong about that statement. 

1. You don’t “get” children. You don’t buy them. You don’t acquire them. You don’t add them to your life as if you are shopping.
2. Lowe’s is generally understood to carry higher quality goods at somewhat higher prices compared to Home Depot. So was her husband implying that children who are adopted are somehow “less quality” or lesser in general compared to having children of your own? 
3. Why was the choice of adoption treated and talked about so casually that it could be compared to a shopping preference?
4. Why are people laughing? Why do people make jokes or bring humor into adoption as adults? Adoption carries so much loss—and people are chuckling?
5. Why do people treat adoption like it is “no biggie” or not something to give careful thought to? When people are “open” to adoption or “have no issue with it” or “don’t see it as any different from having your own child,” or “have a desire to adopt,” it makes adoption all about them and leaves no space for the experience of the adopted child. 

I felt so hurt. 

I knew what this lady was saying. I knew her husband’s heart in the matter. I knew the ladies around me chuckled because the humorous comment seemed innocent and casual and light. But friends—adoption is not innocent or casual or light. No. Adoption means tragedy, sobering realities, and complex heaviness. And in that room, I felt like there were only two of us who knew these things. Myself (an adoptee) and another lady (a parent who made an adoption plan for her first born child). That bothered me. It didn’t bother me to feel in the minority with what I knew because I am used to that. What bothered me is that when I hear Christians talk about adoption it is usually only the adoptive parent narrative and their stories are similar to the testimony I was listening to. That is why statements like, “if you can’t get it from Lowe’s, get it from Home Depot” are met with chuckles and agreement. Perspectives like that are normal. Audiences laugh, people hold compassion for the pain of infertility when that is shared, and adoptive parents are revered as “angels” for choosing to raise children who are not biologically theirs. This should not be normal. At all. 

Let me first address the title of “angel” that is given to adoptive parents. This has to stop. Seriously. Shut it down. If adoptive parents are “angels” then what is a birth parent who placed their child for adoption? What is a parent who is raising children they did not adopt? What is a mom who has ever had an abortion? From where I stand, we are all precious in God’s sight. If you feel compelled to comment anything to an adoptive parent about their decision to adopt or to a birth parent who made an adoption plan for their child, instead of saying, “you’re an angel,” please say something more meaningful like, “thank you for trusting me with part of your story.” If you’re a man and a buddy shares that their child is adopted, please don’t respond with, “that’s cool,” or “that’s awesome,” or “where did you adopt (child) from?” Instead, you can simply ask, “how is fatherhood going for you these days?” 

I’ve wrestled with this post for a few weeks. Writing and deleting followed by more deleting. I have come back to this post three times now and still don’t know how to wrap it up. I still am not clear on what my point is or what the takeaway is. If you are hoping this ends on a bright, positive, inspiring note, then I’m afraid you will be disappointed. Believe me, I have tried to tie it up nicely into something soft, gentle, beautiful and understandable. But in that writing process my words just got tied up into angry knots. I don’t want to end in anger or discouragement. I also don’t want to ramble. So I will simply end with this thought:

To the lady and spiritual sister who shared some of her story with us a few weeks ago, thank you. I am grateful to know more of your story and am honored that you would deem me trustworthy to hear it. Ultimately, you did not hurt me. Your husband did not hurt me. You see, I was already hurting and it was not your doing. I was hurting because I have lived with a lifetime of hurts that come from being adopted. The beautiful reality is that both things can be true at the same time. I can be fully alive and fully hurting. Both are a gift. I pray I steward them well.