“Wait, you knew about her conditions? And you still decided to adopt her?”
I felt a wave of discomfort wash over me as I spoke with this new acquaintance. “Wouldn’t you still choose to adopt her if she were your daughter?”
She just stared at me, her mouth slightly agape.
Here it comes, I thought.
Taking a deep breath, she finally said what countless others have told me in the past year: “You and your partner are such heroes!”
The woman’s inquiry referred to our adoption of Mia, a vibrant 5-year-old girl from Brazil who faces challenges due to spina bifida, hydrocephalus, and congenital scoliosis. Mia also has a unique condition where her body produces almost no growth hormones, which means that at nearly 6 years old, she’s the same size as my sturdy nephew was at 15 months. She can’t stand or walk and needs full-time medical assistance.
My partner Tom and I are a young, educated, middle-class couple with a wealth of opportunities before us. As a military family, we often find ourselves far from relatives, moving frequently and managing lengthy deployments where Tom is away for weeks at a time. We both enjoy staying active and have even discussed competing in events like American Ninja Warrior. Moreover, the financial aspect of our adoption depleted our savings significantly. We were already busy parenting our three children aged 3 to 8 before welcoming our new bundle of energy into our home, fully aware of the long-term commitment her medical needs would require.
These realities often leave people shocked and filled with admiration when they hear our story. They simply can’t wrap their heads around our decision to actively choose this path. I should be accustomed to the praise; I witnessed my own parents receiving endless accolades when they adopted my siblings.
But I’m not, and here’s why.
First of all, it’s important to remember that Tom and I are flawed individuals. We disagree on parenting styles, sometimes lose our tempers, and occasionally forget to handle medical referrals. Mia’s adorable demeanor doesn’t always make up for our moments of frustration. We don’t speak Portuguese, had never adopted before, and are still learning about spina bifida and its challenges.
Beyond that, we’ve faced moments of fear throughout this journey—fear not of being unprepared (because every parent, whether biological or adoptive, experiences that!) or of the medical challenges Mia might bring, but rather the fear that we might not be enough for her.
The reality is that we are imperfect, beautifully flawed beings. All of us are. Tom and I simply said yes despite our fears. We pushed through, kept learning, and improved because we knew that retreating would weigh on us far more than any mistakes we could make with Mia.
When people label us as heroes, suggesting they could never do what we did, they’re often giving themselves an excuse. It’s as if they’re saying, “Only extraordinary people like Jenna and Tom adopt children with disabilities, and since I’m not extraordinary, I guess I can’t or won’t!”
This mindset is disheartening: by putting us on a pedestal, people close off their own possibilities and the potential for a child who could enrich their lives in ways they never imagined.
For those interested in exploring their own paths to parenthood, I recommend checking out this informative resource on infertility at WomensHealth.gov. For those considering home insemination, this guide on artificial insemination kits offers valuable insights. And if you want to dive deeper into home insemination, our other blog post can be found here.
Summary
This article addresses the misconceptions and misconceptions surrounding the journey of adopting a child with disabilities. The author shares personal experiences and emphasizes the importance of recognizing one’s own potential for love and parenthood, rather than placing adoptive parents on a pedestal.