‘What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men …… That is what love looks like.’ - St. Augustine

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The Dreaded Question...(if you've adopted)

Ok. I was hit with one of the dreaded questions today. No need to panic. I was heavily armed. I had planned for this over the years, just after the first time I was asked a 'dreaded question'. I vowed then and there to be ready the next time. No need to flip out, I told myself. Just educate the person.

So here's how it went down. I won't give too many details about where, to protect the poor soul from retribution. I was 'out and about' shall we say, this afternoon, and met a new fellow parent. Nice enough woman, engaging in the expected chit-chat that happens in the location where we were. The topic came to kids, and I mentioned that I had adopted three years ago, and that my daughter was now 15.

"So, do you have any of your own kids?"

I let the question just hang there for a minute. I was hoping it was echoing in her head. I was hoping that, in the span of seconds I was using to retrieve all my ammunition she was wallowing in the blatant and, frankly, inexcuseable rudeness of her question.

"Umm, yes, that one I was just talking about? The adopted one? Well, she's kind of mine." I couldn't help the mild sarcasm. I was devastated. I wanted to educate her. I wanted to take her out for a long drive and explain to her how my daughter was as much mine as hers was hers. But I didn't. I kind of froze, and let the relative silence do the speaking. But afterwards? After she had driven away? Oh boy, then my mind was racing with facts and stories and wise quips. It was too late. She had driven away in her fancy BMW with her perfect child and her equally perfect, pure-bred dog in the back.

So, here I am in blogland telling her what I didn't get to say five hours ago. Honey, she is mine. She is more mine than you might ever feel for your own flesh and blood child. She

*Sorry everyone! blogger ate part of my blog last night and I'm trying to retrieve it!*

6 comments:

  1. You are you daughter's Mom. Plain and simple--she is yours.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Christine :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. i LOVE your "mild sarcasm." omg... i think i would have been a lot less mild in your situation. a lot.

    um. yeah.

    i love when your daughter wears that "i love my mom" t-shirt.

    just have the woman look at THAT... maybe she'll get it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You are far richer than any idiot driving a bmw with a perfect daughter and a pedigreed dog in the back. May her dog bite her and her daughter...nope, that's not the right thing to want. May she become enlightened and end her ignorant ways very soon! May she learn that we are just as "real" as "natural" a family as if we hadn't had to jump through hoops to add to our family. That our children know we went through Heaven and Hell to get them.
    beemommy58@gmail.com

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thanks Jeri. I agree. That is my wish for her..and all such 'uninformed' people :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. One of mine has a features (those gorgeous eyes) that are noticebly different those of her siblings. We were trying on clothes when the shop girl asked,
    Are they all yours? "Yep," I replied..."All Mine."

    Loooong pause....

    "Even that one?"

    At this point....my girlies.. who came home through adoption..... and I look at eachother knowingly and whisper to eachother, "Some people just don't get it."

    ReplyDelete

What do you have to say? Leave a comment!