Pregnancy? No Thanks, I'll Pass

The longer I live, the more I realize that privacy, at least as we once knew it, just doesn't exist anymore. It seems that things people wouldn't dare ask you years ago, (how much money do you make, how much do you weigh) are all up for grabs these days. 

So, you would think that there would have been no surprise when people began to ask me questions about my children, right? (Yeah right) The first time someone asked, I was so offended, I had to stop, take a deep breath, and remind myself that this was a chance to educate.

I've never been pregnant and quite honestly, I never wanted to be - I'm cranky enough on my own.  But growing up in a traditional African American culture, I did what everyone expected me to - I tried to get pregnant. But after one year, I let go of what was expected of me and followed my heart.

Before I got married, I told my husband that I didn't think pregnancy would come easy - my family history told me that much. But everyone expected that we would just have children. I think every Black woman has that aunt or grandmother or just meddling outsider who looks at you after you've been married for a minute and asks "So, when are you two going to have children?"

When I told them of our decision to adopt and my absolute bliss at the prospect of leaving the pregnancy thing behind, the responses I received were, well, let's just say they sort of freaked me out.

I've had more than one person tell me that if God wants me to get pregnant, there's nothing I can do to stop it. Hmmm, true, but I think God and I have a complete understanding of each other on that point. Some told me that every woman should experience pregnancy at least once. Huh? Getting pregnant isn't just something you try (like a new pair of shoes or a ride at the fair) to see if you like it - I mean, either you do it, or you don't.

But my absolute favorite were the people who would tell me how beautiful my children were in one breath and in the next ask me, "So, you don't want any kids of your own?" My own?  In the eyes of the law, they are "my own." And more importantly, in my eyes, they belong to me just as if I had given birth to them.

As a society, and certainly in my culture, I think we get too caught up in what's expected. And I believe that is the reason, at least partially, that so many African American children sit, waiting to be adopted. As we prepare to recognize November as Adoption Awareness Month I will devote the month's blogs to the topic. You'll learn more about the root of my infertility and the road my husband and I traveled to become parents. And more than anything, you'll learn a little more about the two beautiful children we adopted and how we deal with explaining that whole process to them. I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I will enjoy writing it.