A couple of the Circus clowns on Mr T's adoption trip |
Part of our trip last week included a return to our marriage prep team in Maine, and giving a presentation. It seems that giving talks on Natural Family Planning is included in the job description of Catholic OB/GYN, and by proxy, his wife's job description. I don't say this to complain - I really, truly love being involved in marriage preparation, and love talking about what NFP has done in our lives.
Natural Family Planning was instrumental in our marriage, both in bringing us into a point of mutual communication, and in bringing me back to health, mentally (and physically, as it pinpointed some medical issues that I'd long suspected but no one had ever taken seriously when I tried to discuss it). It's a subject that I hold near and dear to my heart, and one that I would love to talk to anyone about (no kidding, I really would love to talk to you about NFP!). It's not easy at times, and it's not "polite talk", but it's important - both for our physical health, as women, but for our spiritual health.
It was a bit different talking about NFP this last weekend. It'd been a good year since we last gave this talk, and so much has happened within that year. Last year, at this time, we'd just discovered my aortic aneurysm, and we were in what we thought would be a temporary "holding pattern" with fertility, as we monitored with a cardiologist and got a good look at what we were looking at. At that time, it was something that we fully admitted to putting on the back burner with discussions and discernment - until we talked to the specialists and got lots of images of my aorta and a definite diagnosis, we were abstaining. It was an easy, no-brainer decision: medical reasons are fully acceptable as a "just reason" for avoiding pregnancy, and we didn't have all of the information yet. We didn't really know what we were dealing with.
This year, we have a clearer picture of what's going on. It's likely that I've had this aneurysm my whole life, and it has not changed since we first spotted it over a year ago. The cardiologist felt certain that it would be at least 80 years before there was any significant change where we'd have to do more than just monitor it. I was given the recommendation to lose weight (working on it - down 40 lbs since that appointment!), increase my aerobic exercise (working on it!), and to get yearly echocardiograms. When asked about the danger of another pregnancy, he told me that while pregnancy itself was not contraindicated with my particular type of aneurysm, it increased the danger of dissection (basically, my aorta could rupture) in a statistically significant manner, and the most dangerous part of pregnancy was actually during labour and delivery. Specifically, the pushing stage of labor. Historically, that has been very short for me in my 5 deliveries - the longest I've ever pushed was 10 minutes (don't hate me) - but that we'd need to have a plan in place because if I did get pregnant and suffer a dissection, every minute counted. My chance of survival drops drastically with every hour I go without getting it fixed.
That's a little disconcerting when you're looking at moving to a very rural, very sparsely serviced area. Pregnancy care would be fine - although I'd likely have to be co-managed by a high risk doctor three hours away - but what would happen if I did go into labour and suffer a dissection up here in the tundra? Getting me out and to the care that I'd need would be difficult. Now, I've been induced the last 4 times for various reasons (blood pressure, mostly), and my body has responded really well to inductions, so there could be the potential solution of delivering with those high risk doctors, three hours away, and just planning for an induction and traveling. We pay for additional insurance for me that involves life-flighting coverage to get me to a bigger hospital, on a monthly basis, too. With those things in place, the cardiologist gave a tentative approval of future pregnancies, although he wasn't super supportive.
That relieved some of the "stress" of using NFP to avoid every month. We can do our best, and know that the possibility of a healthy, safe pregnancy is there, and have a plan in place if that was to happen. (I will add that we've been using NFP solely for 11 years now and never had an unplanned pregnancy, so I'm not worried about method failure - this just gives additional reassurance in the back of our minds).
But what all of this has done over the last year is really bring this question to the forefront of our lives: What is God calling us to do with our family? What makes a reason "just" or not, when it comes to avoiding? If we aren't able to get pregnant again, are we being called to adopt again? At what point does a reason become a just one....or a selfish one? We're having to discern in ways that we never have had to before, and that's unsettling.
Before discovering my aneurysm, we'd come to a point in our family life where we were "trying to whatever", commonly abbreviated as TTW on NFP forums and groups. We'd discerned that we had the financial and physical ability to welcome more children, and had no reason to avoid getting pregnant. We weren't *actively* trying to get pregnant, but we also weren't actively trying to be not pregnant. We would be happy pregnant or not pregnant, and were willing to accept whatever happened each month.
I feel like that has all been called into question with this development in my health. Part of the beauty about NFP is that this decision isn't a permanent one: we can change our plans every month, if we wanted to. I know this, logically. Nothing we say or do now has to be what we're saying and doing next month. But, that also means that it's almost constantly in the back of my mind. Maybe that's the point - we never get too comfortable and too numb to God's call with NFP. It's constantly a prayer on my heart, and I'm constantly listening for His voice.
I think that, until we get a little bit more time with imagery of my aneurysm under our belts, and I get down to my goal weight, and we develop that care team that we're working on, it's safe to say that we have just reasons to avoid a pregnancy. I really don't feel any anxiety about that - God has given me peace in that regard. Using NFP to abstain for possibly the rest of my fertility, due to health reasons, brings me peace.
But the question I keep coming back to, because my eyes have now been opened as to how many children need homes and are in need of love, is this: at what point do you have a just reason to say no to an adoption?
With NFP, the discussion is one of responsible and generous parenting. Many facets of your life (social, economic, health, etc) can be taken into account when discerning pregnancy, and any of those could provide a reason to avoid getting pregnant. The point is that we're actively discerning, with a disposition to being open to life, and listening for God's call in planning our families. The Church, in her wisdom, doesn't give us a check list of items that are "okay" when abstaining from pregnancy. Why? Because each of us is an individual, and each of us is called to individual responsibility to God. We aren't carbon copies of each other, and the Church does not treat us as such.
But how do you apply this to adoption? Can you apply this to adoption? If we aren't actively welcoming pregnancy, do we need to open our homes to an orphan? I would venture to suggest that we should be actively discerning adoption, as well as pregnancy. Is everyone called to adoption? No. But, there is beauty in restoring a family to a child who needs one, and a joy found in the sacrifice of our own comfort while giving it to a child. Now, don't get me wrong: I would move mountains if it meant that Mr T never had to be separated from his biological parents, and they could have the joy of raising him right now. I love him with all of my heart, but I was never "God's plan" for his mother. His biological mother was. He was not brought into this world as an answer to growing our family - we are the back up plan. I am fully aware of this, and humbled by it. That does not change the fact that his life has brought joy to our family, and we have been blessed more than I could imagine by his addition to our household.
Adoption is expensive - it's typically at least three times what we've paid for our most expensive pregnancy/delivery. It's emotionally hard - I'm still not sure I'm ready to have my every move and decision scrutinized and judged worthy or unworthy by an outside party. That was probably my biggest source of anxiety during our 2.5 year adoption process, and it makes me start to sweat and panic when thinking about bringing that back into our lives again. Can adoption be much cheaper or even free than international adoption? Yes. But I've written before about our path to international adoption, and that has not changed. Might it in the future? Maybe. For right now, though, it's still the path that we would take if we were to adopt again.
While I would never, ever venture to put a price tag on the worth of a child, there are some cold, hard facts about adoption. If we were to adopt again, it would likely cost us between $25-$30K. We don't have that money sitting around: we have very little left after our move and sale of a house. Does money have to be a stumbling block? Not necessarily. We could fundraise for those dollars - and I've seen many families successfully do so. So, while money is definitely a factor (and a scary one at that), is it enough to say that adoption would be too much of a financial strain on our family? Money is fluid - maybe it wouldn't be an issue in a year from now. Maybe we can move things around more to make that room for adoption costs. I'm not sure - and then the question comes in as to what about financial security for the 6 kids we currently have. Our oldest is very set on attending college and has a very definite career plan in mind (and it's one that would be beneficial, at the end of study). With Mike's income, we won't get approved for financial aid. Who needs that money more? A child with career goals, or a hypothetical adopted sibling? I just don't know what the right answer is.
This doesn't even take into account logistics: where would a child sleep in our house? Can we realistically bring another chid into one of our kids' bedrooms? What kind of car would I need to get to be able to drive in the winters here with 7 kids, as opposed to 6? While these aren't "end-all/be-all" concerns, these are things that a social worker would ask during a home study, so it is something we need to think through and have a plan for, before even starting to move toward an adoption.
Then there's the actual parenting piece: I've been gifted with such a sense of peace in the last 6 months with our family and parenting. That is not to say it's *easy*, but that I feel at peace in our day to day life and relationships. The anxiety that was almost crippling a year ago has diminished - partly because we have a better idea of what my health looks like, and Mike's job stress has all but disappeared, but also just because I'm feeling God's presence in our family life again. This is a gift that I am trying hard to recognize and appreciate, and not take for granted.
The question I keep coming back to is this: would adoption disrupt that peace I feel, and if so, is that a bad thing? I'm just not sure. I feel like part of this earthly life experience is to keep pushing us out of complacency and comfort, in order to surrender to Him. What does that look like with regard to family planning? I'm just not sure. With NFP, I know the answer right now is avoiding pregnancy. But with adoption? I'm just not sure. Adopting would be hard and disruptive....temporarily (most likely, although there's always the chance that the temporary disruption could extend for many, many years). Is that a bad thing? Is it wrong to hold on to that peace that I feel in our family life? At what point does it become selfish to do so?
These are the questions that I just don't know the answer to just yet. I'm not sure anyone can really answer them for me, either - just like with NFP, I'm guessing that the "do I or don't I adopt?" question is discerned on a personal, individual basis. That doesn't make it any easier, in fact, I think that makes it much harder. I wish someone could just tell me what I'm supposed to do when I see the face of a child who needs a home!
New life is beautiful and a gift from God, but one can have morally acceptable reasons to say to God "Not right now, please." That is not up for debate - as long as the motives are just and the means are moral, the Church says it is a-ok to plan our family size.
Does it apply to adoption, as well? If so, how?
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