Parental Rites of Passage

There are certain things that all parents of babies and young children experience.  Parental “Rites of Passage”, if you will.  As a father of three small children (six and younger), I can assure you that a great many of these come from personal experience.

• An up the back diaper blowout.

• A “Code Brown” in the bathtub.

• Being spit up on.

• Being puked on / catching a child’s vomit in your hands.

• Being away from home without a necessary item (diapers/bottle/pacifier/beloved toy).

• Showering with an audience.
• Child wanders off in a store.
• Using the toilet while soothing a crying child on your lap.

• Driving down the road with one hand while the other is blindly reaching into the back seat to get something for the kids.
• Child says something horribly inappropriate in public.
• Having to leave somewhere (store, church, restaurant, etc.) because of a screaming child.
• Knowingly going to work with your child’s spit-up, snot, poop, tears, or other substance on your clothes.
• A child has an accident while you’re out, and you have no backup clothes.
• Throwing away / donating a toy in working condition simply because you can’t stand to listen to it anymore.
• Lying to your child about what happened to that toy.
• Going for a drive in the middle of the night because that is the only way a screaming child will go to sleep.
• Using an expression, saying, or threat that your parents used on you.

Parents, what other rites of passage have you experienced?

Ten Things Everybody Should Know About Adoption

Adoption is a truly amazing thing – it takes children and places them with loving parents, creating a beautiful family.  Unfortunately, there are a lot of misconceptions, myths, and out-dated notions about adoption out there.  In celebration of National Adoption Month, as well as an attempt to provide friendly information and education for those whose lives have not been enriched by adoption, here are ten things you need to know:

1.  Never, ever, ever say an adopted child was “given up” for adoption. 

Be honest, we’ve all done it:  you’re talking about an adopted child and you say “Did you know that So-And-So was given up for adoption?”  Or you’re talking about a parent/relative/co-worker who “gave up” a child for adoption.

Please, stop doing that.

Think about it:  what do people give away?  We give away things without value or that we have no use for anymore.  I have never met a child who is without value.  A better option is to say the child was “placed” for adoption or a birth mother “made an adoption plan”.  These phrases more accurately reflect the painful reality:  placing your baby with another couple, whom you likely have never met, is one of the hardest, and yet most loving, decisions a woman can make.  And no child should grow up thinking he or she was discarded by their biological family, like an old couch set out on the curb.

Is avoiding “given up” another example of an ultra-sensitive, politically correct culture?  Some folks would say yes, but I’m guessing those same people would take a swing at me if I implied their biological children had no value.  My wife says it best:  “Please don’t say ‘you were given up’ to my child.  No, you, little girl, were created by God for a reason, and your mommy and daddy love you soooo much.”

2.  Families adopt for many different reasons.  When we were checking out daycares for our daughter, we met with a provider who told us that she typically did not accept adopted children.  As she put it, adoptive families “are so desperate for a child that they do not believe in discipline.”  Luckily for us, she could “tell that we were different.”  Needless to say, we did not entrust our child to this whack job.

There are millions of adoptive parents, each with their own personal tale of why they chose to adopt.  Yes, many families adopt in part because they are unable to conceive a biological child.  Infertility was one of the primary reasons we chose to adopt.  But do not assume adoption is some kind of “Plan B” to only be pursued once all available infertility options are exhausted.  Adoption was always on the table for us, even if we had a biological child.  We left several fertility options unexplored to pursue adoption because it was right for us.

Simply put, some are called by religious beliefs, some want to help a child, others want to enrich their family with a child from a different race, culture, or country.  There is no one size fits all reason.  Whatever the reason, adoption is a wonderful decision.

3.  Adoption can be incredibly expensive.  According to Adoptive Families magazine, the average cost to adopt a newborn domestically through an agency can range from $20,000 – $35,000.  Those costs include agency fees, costs to process paperwork and background checks, birth mother expenses (such as rent, food, and utilities), travel expenses to wherever the child is born, and much more.  International adoptions are typically even more expensive due to additional agency fees, the red tape of dealing with two governments, and more expensive travel costs.

Yes, the IRS does currently provide a tax credit for adoptive families ($12,970 per child) but that does not cover all of the expenses, nor does it put the money in your account when you need to write a really big check to your agency.

Some folks are lucky enough to work for a company that offers an adoption benefit (a few hundred to several thousand dollars) to help defray adoption expenses.  If your company does not have adoption benefits, encourage them to start.

4.  BUT…never say “you’re buying a baby” or “how much did your baby cost?”  If you want to be truly technical, yes:  adoptive parents do pay money to an agency (or other entity) for assistance in bringing a child into their home.

Of course, biological parents also pay money to different entities for assistance in providing their child.  Yet nobody asks the biological parent how much their numerous fertility treatments were, how much their doctor or mid-wife cost, or what they spent on the case of Keystone Light the night their precious little angel was conceived.

If you are curious about the costs that go into an adoption, ask a family that has adopted, check out adoptivefamilies.com, or use Google.  All are much better options than being rude and disrespectful.

5.  Adoptive parents are “real” parents.  

Here’s the deal:  my wife and I are caucasian with blondish-brown hair.  Our oldest daughter has a darker complexion with stunningly beautiful dark curly hair.  Our son and youngest daughter are African-American and will likely tower over us someday.  This disparity often leads to a variation of the question “Who/where are their real parents?”

These children may not have lived in my wife’s uterus for 9 months*, but she is their “real mom”.  She is the one who gets up with them at 3 am, changes their diapers, gets thrown up on, and does anything and everything that a “real mom” does – unless of course, their “real dad” is the one doing it.  Oh yeah, and it is our names on the birth certificates.

*Honey, I’m sorry for writing about your uterus on the internet.  It won’t happen again 🙂

I say this with absolutely no disrespect to the biological parents (a.k.a. “birth parents”, “first parents”, “bio mom”, or other titles) of our children.  Those two amazing women will never fully know the depth of our love for them, our gratitude for being chosen by them, and how blessed we are to raise their beautiful babies.

In reality, our children have two sets of “real” parents – the ones whose DNA they share, and us, the ones who handle their care.

6.  Adoption is not a cure for infertility.  I wish I had a dollar* for every person who has said “Now that you have adopted, you’ll be getting pregnant” or has shared the story of their co-worker’s cousin’s brother’s neighbor who adopted and got pregnant a few months later.  Sure it happens, but it is not like adoption magically triggers some “mom gene” that allows pregnancy to occur.

*And if I had that dollar for each time, my wife would not have had to skimp and save so much to pay for our second adoption.

7.  Despite what you have seen on TV or in the movies, adoptive parents are not concerned about the birth family trying to steal the child away.  The laws vary from state to state, but most are pretty similar to this:  once the birth mother signs the consent (which in many places cannot happen until at least 48 hours after birth) the decision is final and legally binding – her parental rights are terminated.  In other words, once she signs the consents, a birth mother has as much legal right to your biological child as she does to her own.  I know that makes for a pretty boring Lifetime movie, but that is the reality.

But if we’re talking about things that adoptive parents do worry about:  it is the birth mother deciding to parent the child before the consent paperwork is signed.  That is her choice, her right, and it does happen quite a bit (I’ve read about 30% of the time).  When that happens, it can be devastating for the adoptive family who has gone through a long and grueling process and is leaving broken-hearted and childless.  Trust me, it sucks.

8.  Most domestic adoptions are now “open”.  Another great TV and movie stereotype:  the adoptee grows up and somehow finds out that his “real mom” was living in the same town all along.  They meet for a tearful reunion, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Certainly, that happened in the past.  Most adoptions used to be “closed” where the birth mother’s identity was not known, or was locked in a file that was impossibly hard to unseal.  Or maybe the birth mom was not sure which family had adopted her child, or did not know where they were at.

But today, most domestic adoptions are considered “open”, where some sort of connection and relationship exists between the birth mom (or other members of the birth family) and the adoptee and/or adoptive family.  Open relationships can run the gambit from a letter and some pictures each year, to regular social media contact, to weekly visits and calls.  It really depends on the parties involved and what is in the best interest of the child.

These types of relationships are beneficial for all parties involved.  The relationships don’t always happen overnight – it can take time for the bonds to grow and strengthen – but the payoff is much better than birth mother and child meeting for the first time when the child turns 18.

9.  The process to get approved to adopt is long, costly, and frustrating.  Here’s a secret frustration of many prospective adoptive parents:  they want nothing more to adopt, but they have to jump through dozens of hoops to prove their personal, financial, medical, and legal worthiness to be parents.  Meanwhile, the news is always finding stories about the unemployed 22-year-old single mom who has 3 kids, and is pregnant with #4, parents accused of child abuse or neglect, or the big national story when we were starting our first adoption:  OctoMom.  For a domestic adoption through an agency, we needed:

• Complete biographical information
• A copy of our marriage license
• A letter from our employers stating our salary and job stability
• A complete financial statement – including a list of assets and debts and a monthly budget
• Copies of our recent tax returns
• A physical and report from our doctor stating we were free from major illness
• Vaccination records for all of our pets
• A local criminal history check
• Two sets of fingerprints
• A national criminal background check
• Consents to verify that we are not on any sex offender registries or child abuse/neglect registries
• Four hours of interviews and a house inspection by a social worker
• Four letters of recommendation from our friends.

Aside from inducing carpal tunnel syndrome, many of these steps have fees attached to them.  If we were adopting internationally, the process would be longer, more complex, and subject to the unpredictability of a potentially unstable foreign government.  There is a reason that this is a popular mantra in the adoption community.

Throughout the process, you try to remind yourself that it is all necessary to ensure children are placed in safe, loving homes, but that doesn’t stop the frustration when you see those stories or fill out yet another form.

10.  Adoptive families typically LOVE to tell you their adoption stories and are willing to discuss adoption with other families who are considering it.  We faced a bit of a challenge when we first started considering adoption:  we did not immediately know of other adoptive parents that we could talk with to learn about the process, get their advice, and hear about the good and the bad.  None of our friends had adopted.  Aside from an uncle who adopted internationally over 10 years ago, we did not have family that we could reach out to.

So we expanded our search, and ended up talking with two couples:  one of my wife’s co-workers and a Facebook friend I had not seen since college.  Both were incredibly generous with their time, telling us their amazing stories and patiently answering all of our questions.

In short, if you are considering adoption or just have questions, reach out to somebody who has been through it.  The odds are very good that they will cherish the opportunity to talk to you.

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll throw it out there again:  if you have adoption questions or want to get some basic information from folks who have been there, feel free to drop me a line at feitcanwrite (at) hotmail.com.  I won’t have all the answers, but I’ll gladly help.

Oh, Shirt

I came across a site selling the t-shirt shown below:

Do you love your adopted kid?

The designer explains the shirt on her personal site:  “So many people misunderstand or don’t understand what being an adoptive parents is all about.  I think adoptive parents should completely own being an adoptive parent. Be proud of it and confident in it.”  That makes sense.

I’m not going bash on the person who designed the shirt, and is selling it.  To each their own.  But I would not buy this shirt for myself or anyone else I know.

Why?

It’s not that I’m ashamed or embarrassed by our adoptions.  It is the complete opposite:  the choice to adopt is easily one of the best things my wife and I will ever do.  Our lives, as well as those of our family and friends, have been forever enriched because of our three kiddos.  I may not have enjoyed the paperwork and expense of the adoption process, but I have pride in making it through that process three times.  I have confidence in who I am as a parent – regardless of if “parent” needs to be qualified with “adoptive”.

It’s not that I don’t want to talk adoption or advocate for it.  The first thing you learn about adoptive parents is that we LOVE to talk adoption.  We love to tell our stories, share advice, and many of us will speak up to remove misconceptions or correct outdated language.  I’m no exception.  I’ve written a ton about adoption, and will continue to advocate for it whenever the opportunity arises.

And obviously, it’s not that I don’t love my adopted kids.  They are my world.  My pride and joy.  I love them with all my heart and would do anything for them.

So why would I never ever wear this shirt?

Because when I look at my kids, I don’t see them as “adopted”.  I see them as amazing little people who happened to arrive in my life through adoption.  I will raise my kids to have pride in their adoption – as it is nothing to be ashamed of – and to respect the strength and love shown by their birth families when they were newborns.  But I don’t want “ADOPTED” to be the label that defines them for life.

I accept that when we’re out in public people probably see my children as adopted (I’m very white.  They are very much not white).  That is the reality of living in a society that tries so very hard to be colorblind that we notice every little difference.  So why should I reinforce that singular, impersonal label by wearing this shirt for the world to see?

If the world really needs to pigeon-hole my kids, I’d much have them defined by their amazing personalities (loud and proud, sweet and shy, loving and laughing) than by a generic label that really doesn’t tell you anything about who they are.

Borrowing an analogy I’ve seen elsewhere, would parents of biological children proudly wear a shirt that says “I LOVE MY C-SECTION KID!” or “ASK ME ABOUT MY TURKEY BASTER BABY!”?  Probably not.  I mean, sure, there might be some folks out there who are oddly proud of the marvels of medical science that helped bring their child into the world, but most people don’t choose to define their child as C-Section, breech, the result of a fertility treatment, or anything else.

I like that the designer of the shirt is an adoptee, as it tells me that she has pride in being adopted and wants to be an advocate.  But I’m guessing that she views herself by other terms (talented designer, independent businesswoman, etc.) instead of having adoption be her identity.

Now, if she comes out with a shirt that says “I LOVE MY KIDS”, I’d consider wearing that – if for no other reason than to see if my soon to be six-year-old rolls her eyes in embarrassment.

Thought of the Day – 5/31/2014 – Kid Math

Question:  If I have two kids asleep, and can get the third one asleep, how many people will be sleeping?

Answer:  Four.

Daddy gets to nap too.

Night night

Is Four less than Three? (F)

Recently, Mrs. Feit Can Write and I enjoyed a very lovely date night.  We went out, ate some good food, had some drinks, and saw one of our favorite bands.  Best of all, it was a completely kid free evening.

I know that may come off a little crass, but nights out (of any kind) are kind of a big deal.  Part of the reality of having three kids ages five and under is not being able to go out whenever we want.

Dinner in a restaurant?  We would need to pack 15 pounds of stuff into the diaper bag, answer a million questions on the way there, strategically pick a place that is busy/loud enough so we don’t ruin the dining experience for others yet slow enough that we do not have to wait for a table or risk slow service*, and time the whole operation perfectly so the kids are not starving when we arrive, not hungry when their food gets there, or the baby doesn’t need a bottle while one of us is trying to eat.

*Although we have noticed that families with multiple young children tend to get exceptional service and/or hurried out of most places.

Assuming we pull that off, there is still the challenges of keeping young children entertained, quiet, and appearing as if they did not just escape from the zoo.  That’s a lot of work for the four crayons you get at most restaurants.  The odds are high that one of us will say “never again” at some point in the evening.

What about a date night for just the two of us, you ask?  Paying for a sitter is never cheap, but when you get past two kids, you end up spending more just to leave the house then you do while you’re out.  We used to have a pretty good system of date swaps where we would watch the kids of some friends while they went out and a few weeks later they would reciprocate.  But strangely, right about the time we brought home baby number three, those informal arrangements dried up.

I get it.  Watching more than two kids – even for a few hours – is not for the faint of heart.  Living with more than two has been an experience – so much so that we’ve joked about changing our phone numbers so the adoption agency we used can no longer find us.

But is it really that bad?

Well, according to this article, it is.  They cite a study that says that three kids is the most stressful number of kids to have.  In what seems to be counter-intuitive, parents with four (or more) children have less stress then parents of three.

Why?  The article lists two key factors:

The increased stress of being out-numbered makes the transition from two to three much more difficult than from one to two.  And once you get past three kids, parents tend to “let go” and trust their parenting instincts and experiences.

For the most part, I agree with this.

Going from one to two isn’t that bad.  You can divide and conquer or one parent can pretty easily take both kiddos and give the other a break.  But a big part of the challenge of three is being outnumbered.  You only have two arms to pick up crying kids, and one set of eyes to make sure your little explorers don’t wander off in the store.  The classic parenting joke is you switch from a man-to-man defense to a zone.  Even with your spouse* helping, somebody will always be facing a double team.

*This is as good of a place as any to give a serious shout-out to all of the single parents raising two, three, or more kids by themselves.  In your next life may you come back stranded on a remote tropical island with a spa, an open bar, and no screaming.

As for the “letting go”, I’m not completely sure I buy that.  Yes, with our youngest we have relaxed on a number of things that would never ever have happened with our oldest.  For example, when our oldest was about 9 or 10 months old, we were at Wal-Mart when her pacifier fell to the floor.  I’m pretty sure we threw it away, because neither of us could ever imagine it being clean again.  Since then, we’ve joked that with baby #2, that pacifier would have been run through the sterilizer and given back.  With baby #3, I probably would have popped that sucker in my mouth, given it a quick slurp and handed it back to my daughter.

But I’m just not sure that relaxing your standards necessarily equals a reduction in stress.  I totally get the concept of “survival mode” – doing what you have to do to make it through the day.  But I wonder if the guilt of knowing that you let the kids watch four movies just so you could get lunch picked up before bedtime doesn’t create its own stress.

If anything, I think the reduction in stress with child #4 comes with acceptance.  Acceptance in knowing that you’re never going to know a house that is clean or quiet.  Acceptance that you’re never going to go out for date night again – and probably wouldn’t be able to afford it if you could.  Acceptance that this is your life.

With three kids, we still hold on to the crazy notion that we can still do the things that families with one or two children do.  Like go out to eat, take vacations, drive a mid-size sedan, have friends and family offer to watch our kids, or pay for college and/or weddings.  And that can be stressful.

But as somebody who never wanted to have more than two kids, I absolutely cannot imagine life without all three of my beautiful babies; the loves of my life, the reasons I go to work, and the reasons that my heart is full of love.

Yeah, it is crazy, stressful, and often crazy stressful, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

*   *   *

(Author’s note:  Wondering why there is a random letter in parentheses in the title of this post?  Not sure how this post corresponds to the daily letter in the April A to Z Challenge?  Like clicking on links?  These questions are all answered here.)

My 2 cents: Shopping on Thanksgiving

Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen and heard a lot of criticism aimed at retailers (like Kmart, Toys “R” Us,  and others) who will be open for business on Thanksgiving.  Many people find this horribly offensive and have taken Facebook pledges not to shop on Thanksgiving or to completely boycott stores that are open today.

Your heart is in the right place, even if you are full of crap.

I understand where they are coming from.  Thanksgiving is a holiday where families come together to express their love and appreciation for the blessings they have.  Few people want to miss out on that time together – especially to work a cash register for $8.75 an hour.  Having stores open on Thanksgiving is a textbook example of corporate greed trumping what the employees want.

But the pledges and boycotts are a bunch of hypocritical crap.  No matter how much we believe otherwise, people are going to have to work on Thanksgiving (and other holidays, for that matter).

Obviously, there are the people in jobs that are essential to a safe and civilized society:  police, fire, doctors, nurses, EMTs, snow plow drivers, and our military men and women serving our country.  I don’t see anybody pledging not to dial 911 today because we believe Gladys should be home with her family, so let’s raise a turkey leg in honor of those who simply must work today.

Beyond those core professions, there is another layer of workers in transportation jobs who will be clocking in today.  It’s probably not necessary to have airplanes flying, subways and taxis running, or even have somebody working at that gas station along the interstate – but let’s face it, it sure as hell makes our lives easier.  There are a lot of people who need to work so you can catch that flight back home, or even pay for your unleaded.  But nobody is proposing that we all stay home on Thanksgiving.

Let’s dig deeper.  You’ve pledged to not shop on Thanksgiving.  You vow that you will spend the day enjoying the company of family.  Good for you.  But…what is that in the background?  Is part of your family tradition to watch one of the multiple NFL games being played today?  Were you listening to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on while you were getting the turkey in the oven?

Now, we start to get into the true hypocrisy.  Where is the outrage over the people who have to work so we can have TV programming to watch?   Where is the protest for the reporters, cameramen, sound engineers, and on-air talent?  Or for the ushers, ticket takers, concession stand workers, and beer vendors at the football games?  Those folks have to work just as hard as the retail clerk at Wal-Mart, deal with the same amount of rude jerks, and will spend just as much time away from their families as the guy working retail.  But I guarantee that nobody will turn off the game or the parade because they “believe in family”.

I realize there are hundreds of other businesses and professions that I’ve omitted but the point is still the same:  where is the social media uproar?  Why do we care so much about people being pulled away from their families to work a crappy retail job, but not the crappy job parking cars at AT&T Stadium in Dallas or lugging sodas around Ford Field in Detroit?  Is it because some of us never had any desire to hit the stores on Thanksgiving anyway – or couldn’t go because you were stuck spending the day with your in-laws?  Nah, I’m sure that has nothing to do with it.

So if you wan to do some Christmas shopping or Black Friday bargain hunting today, be my guest.  I won’t judge.  Just remember who has your back this Christmas.

 

One Year Ago This Weekend – Abridged

*Author’s note:  If this post seems familiar to you, know that I’m not doing reruns.  I am entering a contest sponsored by A Child’s Hope Adoption Services about adoption stories.  I started with this post, but needed to chop it down to 500 words.  Brevity is not always a strong suit, but I’m happy with how this turned out.

*   *   *

A  year ago, life sucked.

A lot.

My wife’s busy season at work means sixty hour weeks, and full-time daddy duty with our three year old Jamie.  Busy days.  Short nights.  Lots of stress.

We’re also two months removed from a failed adoption.  The pain is still raw.

Our agency says we could get a call any day, but my hopes aren’t up.  I’ve switched off the pain until Michelle’s work settles down.

Michelle isn’t so lucky.  She naturally wears her heart on her sleeve.  Sixty hour weeks plus guilt from being away from Jamie doesn’t help.

Michelle sends me two emails.  She said she was crying in the bathroom over a co-worker’s baby shower.

The second reads:

“Not getting better.  Can I cry?  Walk out?  Come back in a week?”

Today is Friday, March 9, 2012.

*   *   *

Jamie is at Grandma’s this weekend.  I need the break, and time with Michelle.  I know she’s struggling.

We take time to rest and recharge.  We sleep in and go out to eat.

Today is Saturday, March 10.

*  *  *

We pick up Jamie.  We missed her – our rock through the failed adoption.  She’s so ready to be a sister.

We head home towards another hectic week.

Meanwhile, a woman is admitted to an Orlando hospital.

Today is Sunday, March 11.

*  *  *

I head to work for another forgettable Monday.  Around 4:00, Michelle calls.  I hear excitement for the first time in weeks.

“How would you feel about a son?”

She explains:  a mom wants to place her newborn son.  Placement would be tomorrow.  In Orlando.

Dazed, I head home.  Michelle tells her boss she’s out for 12 weeks, starting tomorrow.

Over dinner, we discuss the situation.  It takes two minutes.  This is our son.

Today is Monday, March 12, 2012.

*  *  *

We spend the evening in controlled chaos.  Booking travel, finding non-pink items from our baby girl stuff.  Packing, packing, packing.

Michelle asks about a name.  We had a girl name, but nothing for a boy.

I reply, “What about Cameron?”

Michelle likes Cameron.  I like Cameron.  Our son has a name.

We just need to go get him.

*  *  *

Four hours of sleep, but I’m not looking for the snooze button.  We’re meeting our son today.

We get dressed and load the car.  Jamie doesn’t know what’s happening, but she loves an adventure.  She’s wearing the “Big Sister” shirt we bought to announce our last match.

In the car, Michelle calls our agency.  The birth mom can sign relinquishment papers today.  We won’t leave until they’re signed.

A big smile from Michelle, and we’re off to the airport.

*  *  *

After a long day of travel, we leave the airport and go to the hospital.

We meet our caseworker, and review a mountain of papers.  I know they serve a purpose, but I can only think of Cameron.  I’d sign anything to see him.

Finally, its time.

We meet our Cameron.

Today is Tuesday, March 13, 2012.

Life has improved greatly.

Thought of the Day – 9/12/13 – Swaddle Me, Part II

(Apparently, swaddling is on my mind today.  Here is Part I).

I really suck at swaddling our daughter.

Despite my best efforts, tips from my wife, and watching YouTube videos, my attempts are usually a train wreck.  I either cover her up like a mummy or make it so her arms break free in 12 seconds.  In general, my swaddles end up looking like I wadded up a blanket and threw it at my infant daughter.

This made me think:  certain businesses should offer swaddling assistance to new parents.

Think about it:  You and baby head down to the neighborhood burrito place (Chipotle, Qdoba, etc).

Baby gets wrapped up safe and tight by a professional with thousands of hours of experience.

Daddy gets a delicious carnitas burrito.

That, my friends, may be the ultimate definition of win/win.

Don’t call the authorities – this is not my kid (thanks Google!)

 

Thought of the Day – 9/12/13 – Swaddle Me

The idea of swaddling babies is odd to me.

I understand the benefits (maintains their temperature, helps them feel safe, comforts them, leads to longer, better sleep, etc.), but the concept is so foreign.

You know that old joke about the first person to milk a cow (and specifically, what the heck were they doing?) – I find swaddling to be in that same vein.

Who thought:  “You know, we should take our precious and incredibly fragile baby and put her in a straight jacket while we sleep.”?  This is the kind of logic that can only come from sleep-deprived new parents.

Nighty, night, Baby! Sweet dreams!

This leads me to a follow-up question:  when is it no longer appropriate to swaddle a child?  I know that I’d like to keep my 4-year-old from waking up a 6:30 on a Saturday morning.  And a good swaddle will probably be really important during her teenage years.

How about you tie the tubes in your mouth?

I need to step outside of my comfort zone for a minute.  I’m typically not one to cause friction or publicly call somebody out, but I’m feeling like it is warranted and necessary.  Consider this both a public service and a preemptive strike.

As you may recall, we are in the process of adopting a baby girl born two weeks ago.  This little girl is the biological half-sister of our adopted son.  In simpler terms, our two youngest have the same birth mom, but different birth dads.

Given this information, and the relatively small gap between their births (a little over 17 months), we have had to field some uncomfortable questions from friends, family, co-workers, and others.

You can probably guess some of the things we’re hearing.  Things like “She knows what causes that right?” or suggestions that we should take the birth mom a box of condoms.  When we shared that our daughter was born via C-section, more people than I care to think about have asked “Did they tie her tubes while they were in there?”.

My wife and I struggle to process how rude and insensitive these comments are.  It is disappointing, insulting (and rather infuriating) to hear them from people we care about.

I honestly believe that these things are said with good, honest intentions.  We simply do not have people in our lives who are intentionally rude and insulting to us.  It’s likely these things are said jokingly, or in reaction to the sudden nature of this placement, or any number of other reasons.

But trust me, we do not appreciate these comments.

First and foremost, you’re talking about the birth mother of two of our children.  I’m going to defend her like I would my own mom, my wife, or our children.  Mess with the birth mama and you’re messing with me.

It may be hard for non-adoptive parents to understand the protective loyalty I have for someone I’ve never met (as is the case with both of our birth moms), but you need to understand:  without these women, without the sacrifices they made, the pain they endured, and the other things you and I cannot fully appreciate, I have no children.  No family.  Nothing.  The gratitude – the eternal, never-ending thankfulness I have cannot be underestimated.

It is very easy for those on the outside to look at the choices birth moms make and judge.  Why did they get “knocked up”?  Why do they have babies they “cannot keep”?  How could they possibly “give up*” a child for adoption?  Again?

*Seriously, if you’re still saying “give up”, please stop.  Switch to “placed for adoption” or “chose to place for adoption”.  Yeah it’s a little more work for your brain, but those extra words don’t sting nearly as bad.

I look at this two ways:

1) Look at your life.  What choices have you made that others have judged?  How did that feel?  I know I’m not perfect.  My family and friends love me in spite of many of the things I’ve done and said.

2) Instead of focusing on the negative, celebrate these women.  Instead of choosing abortion, they chose to give life to these wonderful, beautiful children – all while enduring a difficult social stigma.  The greatest days of our lives – the days we took custody of our children – were the worst days in the lives of their birth moms.  We try to never forget that.

But mostly, I think about the birth mom of our son and baby girl.  She is a beautiful young woman (early 30s) with lots of life to live.  Who knows what her situation will be in six months or six years?  Quite simply, she has done absolutely nothing to warrant losing her ability to have children.

Nobody has the right to suggest that her ability to reproduce be taken away solely because she blessed us with two beautiful children.  Not me.  Not you.  Nobody.

I can’t tell you what to think or how to feel about the choices our birth moms have made.  But I am asking you – politely, yet very, very firmly – to keep those opinions to yourself.  My children will be raised to honor and celebrate their mom and birth mom, and they do not need to hear any rude or disparaging comments about them.

Thank you.