As a mother of three, I’ve never had the chance to celebrate with a baby shower. My journey started in 1992 with the birth of my daughter, followed by adopting my two sons from China in 2012 and 2013 when they were just two and three years old. Now, I find myself navigating life with a twenty-two-year-old and two lively preschoolers. Yes, it’s chaotic, and I’m well aware of the age gap between my oldest and youngest.
When I was expecting my daughter, I faced some medical complications during my late pregnancy, which unfortunately put a damper on any plans for a celebration. While I did receive gifts and cards, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed for not having the chance to enjoy the classic “diaper cake”—you know, the one crafted from Pampers and baby washcloths. I’ve always admired those who can make such creative things look effortless. There were no “oooohs” or “awwwws” as I unwrapped my pink-ribboned gifts, no sherbet punch made in my honor, and I certainly missed out on the diaper pin game that keeps everyone on their toes.
When my sons came home, the arrival was a quiet affair. I can count the gifts and cards we received on my fingers. It’s not that we lack friends or that people don’t like us (I hope they do!). It’s just that adoption, especially older child adoption, is often viewed differently.
When a woman is pregnant, we shower her with kindness. We ask how she’s feeling (even if some stories are more horror than helpful), and we celebrate her glowing presence. When the baby arrives, the family receives flowers, balloons, and a mountain of presents. They enjoy home-cooked meals and treats that help ease the stress of new parenting.
But adoption is seen as different, right?
We don’t always recognize that a child entering a family through adoption deserves celebration. I understand that not everyone is into the diaper pin game, but why aren’t adoption showers more common? The most significant aspect for an expectant adoptive mom (yes, she’s an expectant mom) is the child she’s about to welcome. While she may not be dealing with swollen ankles, she is certainly feeling a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, anxiety, and a fair amount of fear. The to-do list before the big day looms large, and she’s concerned about how to balance her new child’s needs with the rest of her life, not to mention how her relationship with her partner might change.
Right after our first son arrived from China, a local woman asked me to help organize meals for another new mom. This was a bit jarring, considering we had received zero meals when we brought our son home just the week before. My two-year-old was still figuring out who I was, and the adjustment period was rough. Juggling jet lag with a toddler who was also jet-lagged led to some tense moments (and a few freak-outs over running low on Diet Coke). Asking me to assist someone else while my own needs were so great felt dismissive.
A month after our second adoption, my coworkers hosted a lavish baby shower for three of their own. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy—my “new baby” was three years old, and while I understood it wasn’t quite the same, it would have been nice to have my moment to be celebrated. I tried to be supportive and attend, but I left within five minutes, overwhelmed by feelings of exclusion. My colleagues were shocked to learn how upset I was—they hadn’t intended to overlook me as a new mom; it simply didn’t cross their minds.
Because adoption is different.
These oversights can sting deeply, even if they’re unintentional. It’s not solely about the gifts or cake (though who doesn’t love cake?). It’s about acknowledging a significant milestone and celebrating families. I still feel a hint of envy and hurt whenever I receive baby shower invitations. If only friends had known that a shower would have meant so much to me, perhaps things would have been different.
So, the next time you hear about a friend’s adoption journey, remember that it’s a deliberate and often complex process. The paperwork alone can feel overwhelming. Adoption is usually a cause for celebration, so treat it like one! Instead of asking if she knows what she’s getting into, inquire about her journey. Avoid comments about how lucky she is to maintain her figure—trust me, the pre-adoption stress eating is real. You may not be aware of the challenges she faced to reach this point.
Don’t assume that an adopting family doesn’t want to celebrate, even if the child isn’t a newborn. Welcoming a child into a loving family is a moment that deserves cake, balloons, and joy—diaper pin game optional. For more information on adoption and the journey to parenthood, check out this excellent resource on Intrauterine Insemination.
In summary, let’s embrace the notion that every child’s arrival, whether through birth or adoption, is a moment worth celebrating. It’s about love, family, and the journey that leads us to that beautiful milestone.