Is there something wrong with me that I don’t want to have my own kids? Ones that would share the genes of my husband and I? Ones that would invoke people to say things like: “oh my he has your eyes” or “she looks just like Hubby J”? Because I really don’t want that.
I’ve never thought about having my own kids. Prior to getting married, Hubby J and I agreed that we would adopt when we wanted to add to our family. We’ve waited five long years to even become eligible for adoption, and now that we’re there, I find myself looking introspectively at my feelings of adoption and family building.
When I worked at the adoption agency, I thought I was surrounded by like-minded people — maybe even some whose feelings towards adoption even surpassed my own. Yet, so many of my co-workers who supported the mission of the agency, never wanted to consider building their own family through adoption. One friend of mine had said she wanted to have a couple kids of her own, and then maybe she’d adopt. Well, she’s had those kids of her own, and now she’s like, “I want to have another baby, but then we’re done for good.” And when she says she wants to have another baby, she means to carry her own. Another dear friend from the agency had serious complications with her first pregnancy and consequently vowed never to get pregnant again. She had planned on adopting when they wanted another child. But now, she’s considering using an Indian surrogate.
Despite having worked in the thick of the adoption world for a few years, I think I still have naive notions of adoption. I know that international adoption, in particular, has its critics who say, among other things, that the children should remain in their birth culture where they can grow up and hopefully change the political, social, or cultural issues that are causing so much abandonment of children. I can see where the critics are coming from, and, at least in theory, I can agree with them. But in practice, to think that that means leaving a bunch of kids in orphanages…well, I just can’t do it. When it comes down to it, I still see adoption as a way to give a child without a family a home, and that their life will be better because of that fact.
Perhaps part of my draw towards adoption is eugenics. There are some genes in my family that I just don’t want to see passed down and continued in posterity. Same with Hubby J’s family. But, we both feel there are some good behavioral traits we have that would be beneficial to share and teach a child. So, adopting a child will allow us to avoid damning a child with some stupid genes while also teaching them what it means to be a good person (god, that sounds naive). And even if these adoptive kids have some fucked up genes they carry, it’s too late — they’re already here in existence. So, let’s work with what we got on this planet, and have them grow up into responsible adults rather than just grow some more.
So, while my motivations seem odd, I guess that really doesn’t matter in the end. We’re going to give a child a family who loves them, helps them flourish into the best people they can be, and thinks they are just the greatest. And it’s this that really matters.
