No Kidding Voices Count

If you haven’t read Jess’s post about speaking, from a No Kidding childless not by choice perspective at the function for the book Adoption Unfiltered (frequent commenter here, Lori Lavender Luz is a co-author) then I urge you to do it. Do it now! She talks from the perspective of someone who tried to go the adoption route, but is now living a kick-ass (her words) life without children. Many of you might share her perspective, or recognise some of her concerns from your own experience. There was an interesting series of posts from different bloggers some years ago about why we did not adopt. Here’s my post at that time, and it includes links to other posts.

She noted that she hoped her comments would not be seen as sour grapes, given that she did not get the child(ren) she had hoped for from adoption. It was this sentence, above all others, that set me thinking, and that inspired this post.

Why should we feel that our comments on a process that did not work for us should be disparaged as “bitter” or “sour grapes” compared to those who are considered the “success” stories? Answer = we shouldn’t. Our views are just as valid, and perhaps more so, because we are evidence that the processes are not infallible, that they don’t work for everyone, and in many cases, they don’t work for the majority. Everyone needs to understand why that is. Our voices count, and should be heard.

In general, people who get what they wanted understandably find it hard to critique the processes that gave them their heart’s desire, however hard they were to go through. Stepping back and looking at these difficult processes objectively can be very confronting to them. (Though Lori LL is a notable exception, and is doing great work talking about adoption.) How can someone who got the child they wanted critique the process if, in doing that, they feel they’re betraying that child? How can they critique a process or agency or clinic when that can be seen as a critique of their own decisions, or of them and their families. It’s not surprising some might react defensively, or simply be unable to step back and review the process without bias. Those of us who went through these processes but came out without a child have a very different perspective on what is good, what needs to be changed, and why. But for the adoptive/IVF parents, it is as if they wouldn’t have their children if things needed to be changed. And that becomes terrifyingly unimaginable for them.

And of course, the best form of defence is attack. So yes, it is true, just as Jess feared, that some of the “successes” of assisted reproduction/adoption etc will label us as bitter, our perspective as “sour grapes,” and any criticism is seen as “not getting over it.” Or they think we’ve taken the easy way out, and didn’t deserve their “success.” I’ve seen all these reactions in the media, in blogs, and in email exchanges. Our own Pamela Tsigdinos has been subjected to this view in the media, but is undeterred, still speaking out on IVF still speaking out on IVF and patient rights just last week. It’s a case of being prepared to see things from a different perspective. We all have different points of view, and those who didn’t get the “golden ticket” may even have a wider perspective. We learn to see a subject from all sides, because we’ve been on both sides – the hopeful who desperately want it to work, and those for whom hope wasn’t enough.

It is precisely because of this differing perspective that we are the ones who should be speaking out. I see both the joy of the wanted results and the problematic issues around the assisted reproduction industry and adoption – the so-called success rates, regulation and limits and lack of limits, over-pricing and prescribing, the treatment of birth parents, care or lack of care for the children involved, payment and non-payment, support and lack of support, and all the myriad international and cultural issues, etc. It’s not a contradiction to both be pleased that there are paths to parenthood for the infertile, and to want to ensure these paths take care of those prospective parents during and after this process, as well as act in the best interests of the children who may emerge from this. That’s not sour grapes. It is in fact much more holistic. And maybe we might actually be better placed to think about the children’s interests, because we don’t have that deep, personal parental relationship that can at times (understandably) trigger defence mechanisms and block honest reflection.

It should be a requirement to consider all these factors in any discussion about assisted reproduction or adoption. All of these processes are far more complicated than the public discourse or industry advocates ever acknowledge. Along with the details – the science, financial, emotional and societal issues – of adoption or assisted reproduction, they don’t talk about the hidden results that no-one involved really wants to acknowledge. The No Kidding. Us. Me. My existence suggests an outcome no-one wants to admit is real or is statistically very significant, and is terrifying to those people entering these processes. It’s easier not to consider us, talk to us, or include us.

Yet we might be the ones who understand best what the data means to real people. Many of us who walked away from IVF or assisted reproduction or adoption – either before by choosing not to go through the process, or after, when it was clear there wouldn’t be a baby coming as a result – are the ones who recognised these risk factors, who understood the data, the implications of all the various options and avenues, and made the hard decision – or had it made for us – and had to walk away. That was never easy. But it is an outcome that everyone needs to acknowledge, and more importantly, understand.

After all, our message is that our outcomes should not be hidden, ignored, or feared. We shouldn’t be erased from the conversation. We should be an important part of it. Our perspective counts.

That is why I’m immensely proud of Jess that her always wise perspective was included in the conversation around Adoption Unfiltered. (Of course, I’m immensely proud of Lori LL and her co-authors too.) In fact, I think it is terribly important, and moving – monumental even – that someone who didn't get the baby they wanted should be the one to talk about that. An unfiltered discussion indeed!

Our voices count, and our voices matter. Sadly, the opportunities to use them are still too few and far between.