Since my daughter was adopted at one year old, I figured we’d have a few years before any discussion of where babies came from. What I forgot to prepare for was the fact that her older brother would be the first to ask about birth and adoption. I was caught off guard when the subject arose when my son was four.
Since Patrick’s experience had led him to believe that a younger sibling arrived if your mother fell asleep on a long airplane ride, he wasn’t buying it when some of his preschool buddies informed him that their little brothers or sisters were growing inside their mommies’ tummies.
“But Meg didn’t,” he said. I walked into the room as my husband began to tell him that yes, in fact, babies did grow in tummies.
“Meg didn’t,” he said again.
I smiled serenely. “All babies grow inside of a woman,” I said. “Most babies grow inside their mommies, like you did. But sometimes God lets a baby grow inside of a woman who can’t be a mommy, she can’t take care of a baby right then, but she loves the baby very much and helps it find its mommy and daddy.”
I thought my answer was pretty good for being on the fly. The words just seemed to come out. Maybe all that reading on the subject of kids’ understanding of adoption, and suggested ways of talking to them about adoption, had paid off. I hadn’t actually read that answer anywhere, but I had read to tell a child the birthmother can’t take care of any baby at that time so that the child won’t think she was a particularly bad or difficult baby, and to stress that the birth mother loves the baby.
Patrick seemed satisfied by this. I was too. I managed (perhaps with divine inspiration?) to convey not only the scientific fact of where babies grew, but also that I believed God wanted Meg here,that her birthmother had loved her, and that we were her mommy and daddy.
Not bad for fifty words or less.