I’m a mom of three, and can you believe I’ve never had a baby shower? My daughter arrived in 1992, and then we adopted our two sons from China in 2012 and 2013 when they were just two and three years old. I now have a twenty-two-year-old and two lively preschoolers, making life a delightful chaos. (And yes, I see the age gap between my oldest and youngest—thanks for the reminder!)
When I was pregnant with my daughter ages ago, I faced some medical complications late in my pregnancy that derailed any plans for a baby shower. I received a few gifts and cards, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that I missed out on the fun of seeing a “diaper cake” made from Pampers and adorable baby washcloths. Seriously, why are creative people so good at this? I still want one, even though I can’t make one myself. No one was there to “ooh” and “aah” as I opened pink-ribboned gifts, and I didn’t get to sip on any festive sherbet punch or play the infamous diaper pin game (you know, the one where you can’t say the ‘B’ word—B for baby, not that other one).
When we finally welcomed our boys into our family, the celebration was far from what usually accompanies a new baby. Between the two adoptions, I could count the number of cards and gifts we received on my fingers. It’s not that we lack friends or that people don’t like us (fingers crossed!). It’s just that adoption, especially older child adoption, tends to be viewed differently.
When a woman is expecting, everyone rushes to offer support. We check in on her well-being—sure, sometimes we share horror stories about pregnancy, but most of the time, it’s all positive vibes. We gush about how she’s glowing, and shower her with love and gifts once the baby arrives. Homecooked meals and sweet treats are delivered in droves to help new parents navigate those sleepless nights.
But adoption? That’s often treated differently.
Why don’t we celebrate adoption with the same enthusiasm? Sure, not everyone enjoys a diaper pin game, but why aren’t adoption showers more common? For an adoptive mom-to-be (who, yes, is still a mom-to-be), the child she is bringing home is the most important thing in the world. She may not have swollen ankles, but trust me, her feelings are a whirlwind of excitement, anxiety, and stress. There’s a long to-do list before the big day, and worries about being a good mom, balancing life’s demands, and how her relationship with her partner will change.
Just after we brought our first son home from China, a neighbor asked me to help organize meals for a new mom. Yeah, that went over like a lead balloon. We hadn’t received any meals when we got home with a bewildered two-year-old. At that point, all he knew was that I was the person making a big deal over a box of mac and cheese! Our adjustment was a rollercoaster ride, trying to tackle jet lag with a toddler who was also jet-lagged. So, asking me to help someone else while completely overlooking the fact that I was a new mom? Not cool, neighbor.
A month after our second adoption, my coworkers threw a fabulous baby shower for three of my colleagues. Meanwhile, my “new baby” was already three years old. I get that it’s not the same, but I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. I forced myself to attend the shower, but after just five minutes and during a speech about how awesome my coworkers were, I dashed to the bathroom in tears. They didn’t mean to exclude me; they just didn’t see me as a new mom. It was awkward, to say the least.
Because, let’s face it: adoption is different.
These moments of oversight stung. It’s not about gifts or cake (though, I’m a sucker for cake). It’s about acknowledging milestones and celebrating families. I still feel a twinge of envy when I receive a baby shower invitation. If only my friends had known how much a shower meant to me, things might have played out differently. I’ve worked hard to find peace with this.
Next time a friend announces she’s adopting, remember that adoption is an intentional journey. The paperwork can be overwhelming, and it often drives people to the brink of insanity. It’s a monumental occasion, so treat it like one! Ask how things are going, but skip the questions like “Do you know what you’re getting into?” Don’t remind her how lucky she is to maintain her figure (believe me, the stress-eating stories I could tell would be epic). You never know the journey that led someone to adoption. Saying things like “You’re taking the easy way out” can be incredibly hurtful to someone who might wish they could experience pregnancy instead.
And please, don’t assume that a family adopting doesn’t want to celebrate—even if the child isn’t a newborn. Welcoming a child into a loving family is a reason to celebrate with cake and maybe even a balloon or two. Diaper pin games? Totally optional.
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Summary:
This heartfelt reflection explores the emotional landscape of motherhood, particularly the experiences of women who adopt. It highlights the lack of celebration often associated with adoption compared to traditional baby showers, emphasizing the need for acknowledgment and support for adoptive mothers. The piece encourages friends and family to celebrate all paths to parenthood and recognize the unique challenges and joys that come with adoption.