When, How, and With Whom to Share?

The V's have been ours now for over two years. It's been long enough that I no longer feel like an imposter mom. In the company of other parents, I've got stories to share about potty training, language development, preschool concerns, family vacations, and funny anecdotes. My experience is not so different from theirs now.

Because we've worked hard to create and participate in a community in which adoption is openly discussed and treated as a positive and inspiring way to build a family, I occasionally, out of habit, use language that seems odd in the context of traditional families. For example, I'll start off stories with, "After we got the kids..." When people remark that I must really like the letter V, I say, "Oh, I didn't give them those names," or, "Those are the names they came with." When I let one of those remarks slip, I get these funny looks from people, and sometimes they probe further out of curiosity.

Herein lies the dilemna. During those whirlwind weeks after we were first selected to become parents, and for several months thereafter, I joyfully told anyone and everyone that we were adopting two children, from the next door neighbor to the assistant manager at the grocery store. I'm actually not kidding. His name is Jose, and he has two kids of his own, just a little younger than ours. I shouted the news from the rooftops, and at the time it was okay, because it was all about me... My joy, my dreams fulfilled, my family, my new motherhood.

Now that I'm finally able to digest that yes, this really is real, I've developed a stronger sensitivity to the matter of the kids privacy. Yes, adoption has been a wonderful thing for our family, and yes, we are proud of them, and of course there's nothing to be ashamed of... But really, is it anyone's business? Who has the right to decide whether or not to share that information? We've never shared with anyone the circumstances that led the V's to be placed in foster care, and as far as I'm concerned, we never will. When they are old enough to understand, we will share their story with them, and them alone, and then it will be their choice to decide who and when to tell. But what about the simple fact that they were adopted? I worry about assumptions that others will make, and how this will impact the way they are treated. I did tell their preschool teachers, because I wanted to make sure that the teachers understood the importance of their routines, and that separation from me or deviation from the normal daily schedule might provoke a stronger reaction than usual. I also hoped that they would understand the importance of building attachments, and treat my children with extra love and understanding. In Victoria's case, I believe that did happen. But with Valentino, I think there was a different effect. His teacher, who is relatively inexperienced (and was adopted herself, coincidentally), seemed to regard his every behavioral infraction as a symptom of some deep-rooted issue stemming from his early years, instead of granting him the freedom to just be a four year old boy. At one point, she asked us if we would mind if she had a social worker come in and observe him, in order to provide us with tips on kindergarten readiness. We agreed, and in the follow-up meeting with the teacher and social worker, the first thing out of the social worker's mouth was, "How old was he when you adopted him?" What assumptions was she making about my son based on information she received third hand?

At a playdate with a good friend and another woman who I'd just met that day, the woman I didn't know remarked, "The kids have your coloring. Does your husband have similar coloring to yours?" Caught off guard, I straightforwardly explained that they are adopted. But should I have done so? She wasn't my friend, and it's unlikely I'll ever see her again. I could have just answered the question. No, my husband has lighter skin than mine. You're right, the kids have similar coloring to me.

I've decided not to tell Valentino's kindergarten teacher that he's adopted, at least not right away. I want her opinion of him to be shaped by the wonderful little person that he is, and not to be influenced by wondering what he experienced in his first two years. I want that for both of them.

This weekend we're going to a camp sponsored by our adoption agency, so every family there will have at least one foster or adopted child. I'm so looking forward to basking in this community of people where these concerns are a complete non-issue, where it's rare when the kids do look like their parents, where nobody bats an eye when I mention "getting" my kids, and where my little munchkins will be a part of the majority. I'm not making any promises- you see where that gets me- but I will do my best to post some photos next week.