Obviously, they are aware of the post-cancer, no egg scenario. They were there. But even though Michael and I have been exploring our options for almost a year now, we have not included them in our real life circle of support.

Why? Oh there were a lot of reasons: they were in a major transition in their own lives and we didn’t want to influence their decisions with our own. That was my rational reason. But the real reason may have been that I simply didn’t know how they would react and we didn’t want their inquiries, their questions, their pressing to interfere with an already stressful part of our lives.

Selfish. I know. You don’t have to tell me.

We justified our silence by saying to ourselves, “well, if we were trying to get pregnant the normal way, we wouldn’t go around saying, “hey everybody, we’re gonna knock some boots tonight! Baby making is underway!”" No! We wouldn’t. It would be funny, but no.

Well, now that my folks are happily through their own transition (from PA residents to happy retirees in the land of tax-free living a.k.a. Delaware), we decided to take a trip and fill them in on ours (from a childfree, seemingly carefree couple to one exploring the world of parenthood).

Deep breath.

How did it go? Better than I ever would have imagined. As soon as I started the conversation, my mom just started nodding. Tearing up, nodding. My dad too. They were quiet, respectful, excited. Excited! I told my mom that I had found such wonderful support and friendship online from others going through similar experiences and she blurted, “Are you blogging??” I didn’t even know my mom knew what blogging was.

Here’s the kicker: we kept on talking and all of a sudden they started telling us about their OWN struggles with infertility. Their own cycles of Clomid. Their own months and months of testing trying to figure out what was missing/going wrong in their own attempt.
This was a conversation that we had never, never had before.

I knew that my parents couldn’t have children and that’s why they adopted me and my brother. I never knew the details. I never thought to ask. They never brought it up.

Why?

I’m guessing because they never wanted my brother and I to feel like we were a second choice, a less desirable option, something they did when something else didn’t work. They wanted us to be sure that we knew we were the one and only children that they ever wanted. Period.

And I am crying as I write this because I, dear friends, am an idiot. I have spent so much time over my adult life criticizing my adopted parents, my parents, for doing things wrong. And this is the one thing they did so right.

So, thank you, mom and dad. For loving me and never making me feel less than who I was, your daughter. I love you.

Post from: Blisstree

A Valentine for My Mom