Women are mean and nasty. I mean, with all the hub-bub on the internet about who is and is not working a legitimate job and still others attacking each other over whether or not selective reduction should or should not be allowed, it’s amazing that women manage to have any semblance of a friendship with one another.
This is the reason, of course, I have often chosen not to be vocal about my title of “birth mother” with those I am just meeting or, even more so, those with whom I went to various schools or camps with in our younger days. In case you didn’t read my first paragraph, that’s simply because women are mean and nasty. I don’t even think we mean to be in some cases; it just happens. Instead of dealing with their own emotional issues concerning a subject that touches them in some way, they project onto other women. It breaks my heart to pieces when I see other women tearing each other down for little to no good reason. But it happens. And so I often keep my mouth shut.
But I chose to open my mouth, nice and wide, concerning my birth stories. Still posted on Discovery Health’s website for Baby Week, I’m continuing to get an influx of random traffic. I’d be willing to bet many of those people hadn’t considered they’d be reading an adoption story to boot. But they are. While some bloggers have received 200+ comments, I’ve only received a few. No one ever knows what to say to a birth mother. Does my adoption plan with one negate all of my stories? Probably. Oh well. It doesn’t negate them for me and that’s what matters.
To make it all the more interesting, this is the year of my ten year class reunion. (Dear Dawn, no comments as to how I’m a baby.) As such, I’ve reconnected with a lot of old friends via Facebook. (Does anyone even use MySpace anymore? I’m considering deleting that account.) As I finally figured out how to make blog work with NetworkedBlogs on Facebook, quite a few of those old friends, people who didn’t know my adoption story, clicked on over and read about the births of all three of my living children. It could have turned out nasty.
They said the loveliest things. They warmed my heart. They renewed my faith that people without experience in the area can refrain from sticking their feet directly into their mouths.
To boot, my father-in-law brought it up at my oldest son’s t-ball game just yesterday. He mentioned the picture of all three kids together and said, “She has your smile.” An acknowledgment of such a thing by someone who didn’t have to acknowledge any of it made my heart fill with pride. And, you know, she does have my smile.
I ramble like this because I’m starting to care, less and less, what other peoples’ opinions are regarding our adoption story. I don’t really rejoice when someone says something nasty to me but I’m learning how to let it roll off my back. There are those who don’t like our story for one reason or another. Perhaps we just make them uncomfortable or bring up issues that they don’t want to deal with on their own time, much like some of the current arguing on the internet. I know, simply by existing, our family has made others question their own decisions. But that’s no my problem nor my responsibility.
And I’m learning to be okay with that fact.