I’m taking J. and Madison to Target to get one-year old pictures done. We don’t generally do formal portraits but I thought it would be a nice birthday present for the both of them and then it turned out that J. wanted to ask me if we could do that but felt shy about bringing it up.

I’m feeling prickly today. I’ve been facing up to some criticism from folks who think I make too much of Madison’s adoption and of her birth family. These are people who are close to us and care about us so it’s not something I can simply dismiss out of hand.

It’s hard because nobody knows for certain how anything works, you know? I mean, you can nurse the hell out of a kid or put him in a crib to cry it out or both and he still might end up in therapy. I don’t know for sure whether or not I’m doing the right thing but my gut says I am.

I know that life can potentially be harder for adopted kids; adoption is challenging. Not every adopted kid is going to have trouble, certainly, and to say that isn’t also to say that they would be better off not being adopted. It’s kind of like maybe I wouldn’t have been such a little slut in high school if my parents didn’t divorce but that isn’t to say that they should have stayed together. The best my mom could do was see that my absent father was contributing to some (ahem) poor choices in my youth and to get me into therapy. Our children have to live with the consequences of our decisions — it’s up to us to not only try to make good decisions but also to face up to those consequences.

One of the concerns shared was about the visit this summer with the extended birth family. In particular, the loving person lovingly shared that s/he felt (keeping it all anonymous here) that perhaps people who had not stepped up to the plate during J’s pregnancy and after Madison’s birth might disappoint me. They might not care that much about seeing Madison or they might be hostile to me or I might get in the middle of a big family blow-out. And, again lovingly put, perhaps such people don’t deserve to have access to Madison.

Well, here’s my thought about those possibilities:

1. Never judge a family in crisis because a crisis tends not to bring out the best in people.

2. Also, I don’t know the backstory. I only know what I saw and was told and frankly, I saw very little and heard only a tiny bit more.

3. If Madison’s extended birth family don’t give a hoot about Madison, I think we better find that out early. But I do think they care — I just think that the adoption has reasonably thrown a wrench into how they feel about showing their concern and also I think that this is a family that does things differently than my family does things. In short, I can’t really know so why not find out?

4. If they are hostile to me, I can get back on the plane and go home. But I don’t think they will be and I trust J’s take on this.

5. If there is a big family blow-out, again, I have a return ticket.

6. Finally, although I would argue that they do deserve to know Madison, it’s not about the family here. It’s about what Madison deserves. It’s about her having a right to her biological history if we can possibly get her access to that. It’s about her having pictures of people who look like her. It’s about her knowing who those people are so that she can choose for herself what they will mean to her. It’s about how the more people loving on her, the better it is all the way around.

I get the sense that there is still this confusion about who is Madison’s “real” family and that some of the concerned people are projecting this on Madison. I was talking to Brett about it all and Noah (playing in the basement) came up the stairs and said firmly, “Madison has two families.” Exactly. She does. And it’s up to this everyday family to help her negotiate her relationship with her birth family — it’s our privilege and our duty to do so.

When I read the research and when I listen to adult adoptees, I’m convinced that this is the best thing we can do for her. Right now we don’t have a relationship with anyone besides J. I hope that seeing her will make her real to the rest of her birth family and that this will open the door to them all having a relationship of some kind with her. If it doesn’t, at least we will begin to understand the limits of those relationships (for now — that can change as everyone gets older). Also, Brett and I really want to make it clear to Madison from the get-go that her adoption is a legitimate topic in our house and that her birth family is also a legitimate topic. And we want her to know that we respect her birth family because they are her birth family, no matter what kind of relationship we end up building (or not building) with them. Basically, she is not just adopted — we are an adoptive family. It’s part of our familial history and so as a family, we will work together to explore this part of our identity.

I’m writing all of this because I have to remind myself of my convictions. This feels a little bit like when I was nursing Noah way past babyhood. The very fact that we were nursing into preschool years made my decision suspect. It was like, “Of course it makes sense to you to keep nursing him but then you’re the type of person who would nurse a preschooler therefore any arguments you have are by definition sheer lunacy.” Ok, maybe not that bad but pretty bad. I say, “But this person is doing an open adoption, which works and this person has an open adoption, which works” and the reply is, “Yeah, but they’re the kind of people who would do an open adoption so they’re as biased as you are.”

Ultimately, I think that like Noah’s long-term nursing, the proof will be in the pudding. Everyone eventually got cool with my walking, talking nursling and I think that they will grow comfortable with Madison’s unique extended family. Right? I can only hope. Also, for the most part, our families have been wonderfully supportive of all of this. It’s just that sometimes their heartfelt concern and their understandable confusion comes out and I need to learn to deal with that without letting it throw me.

By the way, that picture up there? It’s from Brett’s parents’ early Easter celebration. See how Madison has a turtle? Remember how Brett was trying to teach her to say turtle? That was about three months ago but she just now says it, prompted by that little blue fellow. She said it clear as a bell, “Turtle!” after we got her home from their house. J got to hear it when she called and we have all pronounced it darling.

Now playing on iTunes: “Someone in a Tree” from the album A Stephen Sondheim Evening by Bob Gunton, George Hearn, Steven Jacob, Cris Groenendaal

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