Mar 26 2009
My Confessional Booth
I’m feeling the need to confess, and I’m not even Catholic.
In the post before my rude Entrecard interruption, I delved into our experience meeting Kiddo’s birth parents. The comments to that post got me thinking. Thanks for all the comments, by the way. Without you guys, my brain would just stutter and stop.
Actually, this is a thought I’ve been toying with for some time. It’s a very naughty little thought, and you’re going to demand lots of penance.
Here it goes…I have actually considered not telling my kiddo about the adoption.
Yes, I know. It’s horrendous. How could I even think such a thing. Go ahead…judge me.
But it’s soooooo tempting. If you saw a picture of us all together, you would never guess he’s not my biological son. In fact, I found a picture of myself when I was one year old. We all thought it was a picture of him. He has the same coloring, and even a scientifically inclined person with some knowledge about dominant and recessive genes would look us and never guess.
Plus, he was so tiny when he was placed with us. His adoption was finalized not long after he turned a year. He will have no memory of any of that.
Then there’s the whole being a kid thing. It’s HARD to be a kid. Other kids are cruel. It’s difficult enough trying to find your place, fit in, and just be a normal child, without a monkey like adoption hanging off your back.
Our family is so perfect. We just fit! I don’t want to disrupt that. I want him to be happy and loved and have a great life. I want to protect him from pain whenever I can. Telling him just irks my sense of mommy.
But, I’m also a semi-intelligent and logical person. I know that would backfire horrendously, and I may end up losing him all together. I should not deny him his heritage or his identity. There’s more to him that meets the eye, just like his beloved Transformers. What a terrible crime it would be for me to try to keep that from him, just to satisfy my selfish need for a perfect family.
So calm down. I won’t keep it a secret.
What I am thankful for is that it will entirely up to him to share that info with other people. Since no one will know by looking at us, it will be his little secret to do with as he chooses. The big bad bully at school doesn’t need to know (and it’s not his business, anyway). If Kiddo decides to share with someone, then that’s his choice.
Are we ok? You still like me? After all, if we punished everyone for having a bad little thought, we’d be way too busy giving out spankings to worry about pesky things like bank bailouts and stimulus packages.
Actually, it helps to document my thought and post it out there for the world. I’m releasing it, and now I won’t think of it again. See? Therapy is a good thing.
A double affirmation! Thanks WME!
I don’t blame you. I’d be sorely tempted myself. Nor, to be honest, do I think it’s necessarily wrong. I’ve known people with adopted children they never told. I didn’t judge them and sure as heck won’t judge you. He HAS a heritage and a background - yours. I can see it that way, though, if he finds out later, he might be disturbed. But he also might not.
The only concern I’d have is, if you’re planning to adopt another, your son might figure it out on his own. If that’s likely, best to tell him, I would think.
A good point I had not considered, Stephanie.
My fear if I did not tell his is that he would hear it from someone else. An insensitive relative at a holiday gathering, an accidental slip up when reminiscing on old memories, or noticing a difference between himself and a sibling (as you say).
My other nightmare would be if he gets sick…like REALLY sick and needs some kind of bodily donation. When he finds out we’re not compatible, all of a sudden you have a horribly ill child and A LOT of explaining to do.
I feel your pain. I still have to explain to my oldest two that the “man” they call father isn’t theirs, just their younger brothers. I keep putting it off in fear of being judged by them for my poor choice in the past. But alas, its almost time to let them know, I’ll simply take a nice strong shot before I do..LOL
I was told I was adopted when I was 7. My parents bought the book. It was a little confusing to me at that time, but really wasn’t a big deal. When I told the kids at school (as I didn’t have any adopted friends) no one poked fun or humiliated me. If anything they had lots of questions and thought it was cool. My parents adopted my sister when I was 8 so I was glad I knew then because it would have been quite confusing to never see my mother pregnant and then one day SURPRISE here is a sister. Throughout life though I’ve found that people are very accepting of adoptive kids and if anything it makes their parents look like heros. You could be a SUPERhero.
So don’t fret…telling him will be ok.
Ultimately, I agree with you Ken. While I can’t exactly place myself in your shoes and I can only imagine how that would feel if I found out today that I had been adopted, I can understand any animosity you might feel.
However, I think I can place myself in your family’s shoes. I’m sure they didn’t tell you primarily because they wanted to protect you. They wanted you to have that so-called “normal” life, and grow up a “normal” kid. I really don’t think they meant to hurt you in any way. I would hate to see that relationship with them ruined, because as you say with your bio brother that you didn’t get to meet, life is too short.
I know you may feel deceived, but that term implies a darker purpose. My guess (even though I do not know your family, but know how I feel as an adoptive parent) is that no deception was intended.
But, when it is all said and done, I guess I would ultimately agree that they made a bad decision.
Why stop with a shot, Nipsy? Go for the whole dang bottle!
Yours is a different angle. Not only do you have the whole he’s not your real dad problem, but the fear of judgment by your children. Ugh. In fact, chase that bottle with a nice glass of wine.
However, I think ultimately what you need to remember is that your kids love you. I don’t think the first thought that pops into their mind is going to be a judgment against you. My guess is that their first reaction will be curiosity about their birth dad, why it ended, and where he is now.
As they start to assimilate, they might feel a little anger, but if they have a good relationship with your husband (who’s been their real dad ever since) and he’s by your side and supportive through all this, you’ll get through it.
A book I read on this says you will be dealing this as they age. As they grow older and new layers and complications are added to their developing personalities, they experience new emotions about being adopted. At an age they might grieve, and later might be angry, and another more curious. Just be prepared…it’s not going to be a one time conversation.
Thanks Kristy. Actually, you’ve inspired me for my next post today.
What does comfort me is that adoption seems to be a little more commonplace today. Maybe it’s just me, but with a the celebrity attention on Madonna and Angelina Jolie, and the press about infertility treatments, it just seems to be more…acceptable?
My only experience with adoption growing up was with a girl in my class who had been adopted from Korea. I grew up in a REALLY small town. There was no way to keep that a secret, as she was clearly Korean and her parents were typical upper Midwestern Swede. I remember the same thing. We were curious, but then it became kinda cool.
I remember being insanely jealous of her because she was soooooo pretty. When we aged to the pubescent years, I remember hating her because I’m pretty sure she never sprouted a pimple.
But I don’t really want to be a superhero. We didn’t do anything super at all. We simply wanted a child, and this was the best fit. The only thing I don’t like about people referring to us as heroes because it implies we did something normal people cannot do. Anyone can do this.
ah, but not anyone DOES do it…. or do it so well, either.
Thanks flit.
You mean there isn’t a secret code among adoptive parents and healthcare providers? Like “wink*wink*scratch your nose*cough” that translates to “no talky about the family history thing.”
Perhaps some pig Latin. Icksnay on the istoryhay.
Thanks Tami. I love your reassurances!