Adoptive parents will all experience it from time to time: the Adoption Inquisition.
Sometimes it comes up in the natural line of conversation. Acquaintances or old friends who are out of the loop will ask me how my pregnancy went, how long I breastfed for, or how long we tried to get pregnant before we had our son.
Um... the answer to all of the above could begin with "Well, you see, we adopted." Using that response inevitably initiates an Adoption Inquisition. This could be an onslaught of questions. It could be a few uncomfortable inquiries. Or it could be a sprinkling of fair and reasonable questions
from someone who is interested in learning more about adoption. The problem is, it can be hard to judge ahead of time exactly what type of Adoption Inquisition you'll be experiencing. That's why it's so important to plan ahead before the next one begins.
Having a script prepared can help you handle an Adoption Inquisition, stop one in its tracks, or even prevent it entirely.
If I don't feel like talking adoption, when people ask how my pregnancy went, I can answer truthfully "Our son was born at 42 weeks and weighed over 9 pounds! It was a great pregnancy." (For me especially, since I didn't have to deliver his hefty self!)
When people ask me if I breastfed, I can honestly reply "I tried, but couldn't produce enough milk. He's doing fine on soy formula."
When they ask me about how long it took to get pregnant, I can get around it by saying "We waited a whole lifetime to welcome our son." This is my standard response, as I personally dislike the intrusiveness of this question. To me, it's just too much information, especially if the inquirer is not a close friend or family member. If I answer "Well, we adopted," I then have to fend off questions about how my fallopian tubes are feeling (just fine, thank you!), or anything else they can dream up! I don't care to inquire about what colour underwear people have on, so don't ask me about my success rate in the bedroom!
If you want to reveal a little without saying a lot, you can always give a short answer and (preferably with the same breath) follow it up with a question of your own. People love to talk about themselves. Given the the opportunity, a good portion of us can't resist. "We adopted our son. How was your pregnancy with your daughter?" or try "We couldn't breastfeed because we adopted. When did you switch to formula?"
Sometimes I feel like sharing a lot. If I know the inquirer well, I feel less guarded about how the Inquisition might go. However, if the person asking me questions is a stranger, and I am answering their questions in front of my son, I am always cautious. It's perfectly okay to say "I'd love to talk more about our adoption... can I give you a call later on when our son is napping to tell you all about it?"
I try to keep him the focus, as I am always fearful they might make a comment that could offend his little self or make him feel like being adopted makes him different or set apart from his peers.
Sometimes you'll get questions that blow your mind and make you wonder what rock the inquirer grew up under, and who game them permission to venture out from underneath it.
These questions are hard to read, difficult to write about, and impossible to answer politely. (For me, at least!) My sarcastic responses -- some of which I've inflicted in real life, some of which I've kept to myself -- are included.
Are you going to try to have your own children?
(What? Is my son by adoption not my own?! He sure acts like it. I even cook his dinner, put him to bed, and change his bum. If he's not mine someone owes me an explanation, and a lot of diaper money.)
Do you have any real children?
(What? Is my son a cardboard cut-out? Did I not notice a year and a half ago that he wasn't alive? No wonder he wouldn't drink his bottle, I thought it made him a little soggy-looking.)
Why didn't his real mother keep him?
(What? Am I a fake mother? Or his unreal mother? Oooh, am I an alien? Where's my spaceship? Where's the mirror? I want to see if I look like Alf!)
He looks like you, are you going to tell him he's adopted?
(Oh, sure, we'll just lie to our son about one of his basic human rights: to know who he is and where he came from.)
Is he a drug baby? Is there something wrong with him? (This one is my favourite. I tell them he was born addicted to vitamins A, B, and C. He's currently being considered by NASA for their 'Babies in Space' program, and in between his afternoon nap and his violin lessons, we contract him out for speaking engagements to discourage people from asking asinine questions about adopted children.)
Ah, yes. Preparing for an Adoption Inquisition can be an enlightening experience. Do yourselves a favour, fellow adoptive parents, and think about how you might respond the next time someone asks you to share your adoption experience.
1 comment:
you can add to that the adoptive grandparent's inquisition:
How many grandchildren of your own do you have?
"We currently have 5. Four of them are already in the arms of our children, and one is still growing under his mommy's heart...."
Yes, but don't you have adopted grandchildren?
"We do. I don't remember you asking about that, and I'm sorry that I don't remember which one was adopted."
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