a calculated risk

If you have read other “adoption profiles” or “parent profiles” (or if you haven’t yet and you want to, you can find lots online) you may have noticed that the vast majority of them begin with the obligatory, “Dear Birthmother” letter*.  These often include phrases such as, “we admire your courage” and “we know this is a very difficult decision for you,” etc.  And if you HAD read lots of these other profiles, you might have noticed that our profile doesn’t contain a letter like this.  Leaving that letter out was a calculated risk on our part.  If we leave it out, does it imply that we DON’T admire her courage?  Or that we can’t empathize with her pain?

Early in this process, when I was poking around on the internet, looking at adoption information and I read the first letter like that, I thought, “Wow!  What a great letter.  They’ve really reached out and tried to see the situation from her point of view.  That’ll definitely communicate their thoughtfulness and kindness to her.”  Then, I read the next sample.  Hmmm…. similar words that began to lose their “wow!” factor for me.  By the third one, I wanted to say, “get on with it!  Yes, I know that you think she’s an amazing human being, and that you will never be able to understand what she’s gone through, yadda, yadda, yadda, but what she has come here to find out about is YOU!  Who are you?  What kind of family would you provide for her child?  That’s what’s going to set you apart from every other couple listed here!”

I was talking with my sister about this concept and she wisely pointed out that if we lived in bizarro world and birthmothers had to put together profiles that adoptive parents would pick through, would I want to read (over and over again) “we will never understand the pain of your infertility” or “we admire your ability to love a child that isn’t biologically related to you.”  no thanks.  Why force me to read through those painful phrases over and over and over again?

And so we left those words off.  I don’t have any doubts that I personally like this approach better, but there is still a teeny, tiny, itty-bitty voice in my left pinky toe that sometimes wonders if it will look like an intentional omission that indicates that we don’t care about or respect the woman who may eventually entrust us with her child.  Because we DO admire her courage, but we also want her to feel free to show us her cowardly, worried side whenever she needs to.  And we DO assume that this is a very difficult decision for her, but we have no idea what her particular circumstances will be and have no idea what individual difficulties she has faced and it seems somehow…. phony to say those words until we know her unique story.  I just hope that our words and photos will be true representations of us and will speak to the right woman at the right time who will understand (and maybe even appreciate) why we took this small, calculated risk.

*I’ve also read that “birthmothers” don’t really like to be referred to as a “birthmother” until they’ve actually given birth and made the decision to place their child for adoption.  Until then, they’re just an expectant parent.  Also, this phrase sort of cuts out the Dear Birthfather if he’s in the picture.  Or the Dear Birthgrandmother.  Or the Dear BirthBestFriend.  Kind of a loaded phrase, really.  I advocate avoiding it altogether.

1 comment so far ↓

#1 momma on 10.05.09 at 9:08 am

I’m certain that when you meet the mother of your child you will communicate your compassion in the most appropriate way. Tell your pinky to be quiet.

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