I’ve been giving a lot of thought to domestic adoption lately. Scott and I had kind of a knee-jerk reaction to domestic adoption when we first started considering it. We were afraid to put our hearts on the line for a baby who could end up not being ours. Too, we were uncomfortable with the idea of birth parents. We’re insular people, for the most part, and the idea of adding strangers to our family in the form of birth parents wasn’t something we were comfortable with.
As we’ve become more and more comfortable with adoption in general, birth parents don’t seem so scary anymore. I’ve seen open adoptions that work really well, and that makes the idea of domestic adoption more attractive. But there’s still the laying your heart on the line thing, and I still know I can’t do that.
I think infertility wounded me deep down inside, more than I realize at first glance. Somewhere inside me, I became convinced that I couldn’t get pregnant because I don’t deserve to be a parent. And when I think about domestic adoption, I see that fear being translated into no birth parents ever picking me. I feel like they’ll see my profile and immediately know, on some gut level, that I don’t deserve a child, and there’s no way any woman would choose as an adoptive parent someone who doesn’t deserve a child.
But even feeling undeserving, I want a child. And I know that, if I adopt from China, I’ll have one. It may take a while, but at the end of the tunnel, there’s a baby for me. With any attempt at domestic adoption, I only see more heartache for me. And I don’t think my heart can take anymore.