Perpetuating the myth

In a comment on my previous post, Kerry asked me about my thoughts on getting pregnant after adopting. I'm kind of surprised I haven't talked about it more often on this blog, but I really haven't. So here are some thoughts on my personal experience thus far...

"Oh, that happens all the time!"

Those are words I have heard continuously since late March of 2010. Those are words that I will likely hear for the rest of my life.

I heard it when I was pregnant. I heard it when I had a newborn and a one-year-old. I still hear it today. Yesterday, in fact, at toddler music class.

I heard it two days ago as well, from my doctor. He said it the last time I was there too.

And, speaking of doctors, I heard it a few weeks ago from my other doctor, the one who I credit with successfully treating my infertility.

You get the point. I hear it a lot. In case you ever wondered if people actually believe that adoption leads to pregnancy, I'm here to tell you THEY DO.

To be honest, early on, it didn't bother me. I was just so thrilled to be pregnant that nothing really bothered me. And, after all, it did happen to me. Then, shortly thereafter, it happened to a good friend of mine. And, surprisingly, most of the people making the comments to me weren't simply talking out of their you-know-whats. They knew actual people that it happened to - their sister, their daughter, their best friend, their patients. How could I dispute that?

Then it did start to bother me a little. Friends of mine who were still struggling with infertility pointed out, sometimes jokingly but coming from a place of truth, how I would now be perpetuating the myth. They were right. Mine was a story that someone would tell to someone else who would then tell it to another person and before you know it that person would be telling an infertile couple, "Just adopt and you'll get pregnant! I hear it happens all the time!" Great. I've been that couple and know how excruciating it is to hear those words. I didn't want to play any role in their pain.

So I went through a phase where I refuted it. That's not saying much coming from me, since I definitely don't invite conflict with acquaintances or strangers. Usually I'd quietly and politely say something along the lines of, "Actually it doesn't happen a lot. You'd be surprised." Sometimes, if I was feeling frisky, I'd even throw in, "Don't say that to someone with infertility. That's not what they want to hear."

Or, to those who liked to follow up the "That happens all the time!" with the inevitable, "They say you just need to relax!", I would attempt to explain that while, yes, I personally believe that "relaxing" after we adopted Clara in a round-about way contributed to my conceiving, it isn't nearly as simple as it sounds...that there's actually a biological component to it...that my hormones were messed up and when my anxiety and stress levels (something I have long struggled with) plummeted, my body was possibly able to heal the last piece of the puzzle. Because, let's not forget, I had three surgeries in there as well. Relaxing wouldn't have ever gotten rid of the endometriosis. Ever.

(And, it's worth pointing out, this is all just my theory. While I do believe in my heart of hearts that the cosmic shift in my entire outlook on life aided in my conception, I will never be able to prove it.)

I rarely go that deep anymore. I usually respond with a simple smile. I don't nod in agreement, but I don't educate them either. I guess I've just gotten so used to it hearing it that the words barely register anymore. And, since in my experience every single one of these people means well, I cringe at the thought of openly disputing what they said. They just seem so darn happy for me. Plus, they were probably just making conversation.

I know I should do more. Just come up with a pat response that I'm comfortable with. Maybe I will. I owe it to infertile couples, and adoptive couples, everywhere. If being someone who this rare scenario actually has happened to comes with that responsibility, not perpetuating the myth is the least I can do.

One thing, though, should be clear - I am not complaining about what people say to me. I'm thankful every day that I find myself in a situation where I get those comments and I will never grow tired of the reminder that I have two babies through two miracles. It's those who hear them and who are still waiting who I feel for. I remember being on the other side of those words all too well.