There are days that I love adoption. And days that I do not.
I have a confession to make: I am a birth mom and sometimes I hate adoption.
Let’s first try to get over the fact that I used the word “hate.” It really is a strong word that most use for a thing that makes their heart hurt the most. Something that turns their stomach and makes them wish they had never known the thing that makes them feel that way. Hate.
Although it is a strong and ugly word, it fits when I think of the raw, ugly, and painful emotions connected with my adoption. These emotions are self-inflicted. I chose adoption for my child. I chose to put this pain on my heart. I chose to bring myself to a decision that would inevitably follow me for the rest of my days on earth. Do I ask for pity? No. Never. I do not believe anyone should pity me, nor do I feel that I should be placed on some type of pedestal because I “did something wonderful” for one-time strangers and my child. I made a selfish and selfless decision that affected everyone in my life.