“Wait, you knew about her conditions? And you still decided to adopt her?”
I shifted uncomfortably while conversing with a new acquaintance. “Well, wouldn’t you do the same if she were your child?”
She just stared, her mouth agape.
Here it comes, I thought.
After a moment, she took a deep breath and delivered the line I’ve heard countless times over the past year, “You and your partner are such heroes!”
Her question stemmed from our decision to adopt Mia, a beautiful 5-year-old from Armenia, who was born with spina bifida, hydrocephalus, congenital scoliosis, and a few other surprises (like her body produces almost no growth hormones, meaning at nearly 6 years old, she is the same size as her brothers were at 15 months). She cannot stand or walk and needs full-time medical assistance.
My partner Mark and I are a young, educated, middle-class couple with a love for adventure. As a military family, we frequently relocate, often far from relatives, and occasionally experience long deployments where Mark is away for weeks at a time. We both relish running and staying active (Mark dreams of competing in American Ninja Warrior someday!). Plus, our adoption depleted our savings and added to our already hectic life with three young kids aged 3 to 8. We knew what we were getting into with Mia and the lifelong commitment her care would demand.
Yet, when people hear our story, they often respond with disbelief and praise, as if we’ve performed some extraordinary act. I should be accustomed to this by now, having seen my own parents receive similar accolades when they adopted my siblings.
But I’m not, and here’s why:
To be frank, Mark and I are just as flawed as anyone else. We argue about how to raise the kids, sometimes lose our tempers, and occasionally forget to get a referral from our insurance before taking Mia to a specialist. Her adorableness doesn’t always make up for our moments of frustration. We don’t speak Armenian, we hadn’t adopted before, and we were complete rookies when it came to spina bifida.
Moreover, we faced fear at multiple points during the adoption journey.
From the start, we both felt deep down that Mia was meant to be part of our family, but that didn’t mean everything was easy.
We experienced moments of doubt—not from a lack of preparation (because every parent, biological or adoptive, feels that way) or from worrying about Mia’s medical challenges, but from the fear that we weren’t good enough for her.
The truth is, we are simply imperfect human beings. We just happened to say yes while grappling with our fears. We continued to push forward, learn, and adapt because we knew that backing away would haunt us more than any mistakes we could make with Mia.
When people label us as heroes for adopting a child with disabilities, they often use it as a way to excuse themselves from taking similar risks. They think, “Only heroes like Jenna and Mark adopt, so I guess I don’t have to/can’t!”
This mindset is disheartening; by placing us on a pedestal, they close the door on their own potential and the possibility of welcoming a child into their lives who could bring immeasurable joy.
If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, check out this excellent resource on artificial insemination at Wikipedia. You can also find great products for your journey, such as the Cryobaby Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit and the comprehensive At-Home Insemination Kit.
In summary, while we appreciate the kind words, it’s essential to recognize that anyone can embrace the challenge of adoption. We are not heroes; we are simply a family, navigating our journey one step at a time.
Keyphrase: “adoption of a child with disabilities”
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]