Having spent the last couple of hours researching for this post, I’m left with a certain je ne sais quoi feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I sense that were I indeed a pregnant woman weighing adoption, I might be able to take these letters only in small doses and for short stretches at a time. Most of them tell me I’m an angel, thank me for choosing life for my baby, and thank me again for considering giving this precious gift. (Not sure how I feel about baby=gift mentality). After a while, the letters begin to run together. The people in them are all fun. They’re all music lovers, sports enthusiasts, and avid campers, and they all met at college on a blind date. Dad is a high school science teacher and mom used to be a teacher but is now home full-time. They have two other children, also through adoption, named Ashley and Jacob.

Some of the intro lines grab my attention because they include pictures or catchy sayings, but I start to feel slightly annoyed if the letter’s “hook” is cheeky, sarcastic, too ooey-gooey or too cutesy. Just recently I came across one that read: “We have season passes to Disneyland and Tivo.” I give credit for the attempt to stand out from the crowd, but this opener falls into one of the traps to be avoided – i.e., don’t assume I’m 13. And while we’re at it, don’t tell me that all you want for Christmas is my baby. Realize that’s all I want for Christmas, too. I want somehow not to be going through this and processing all of this, and thinking one day I’ve got it all figured out and then waking up the next day feeling 180 degrees different. Some days I know I will parent my baby in spite of all your letters and counsel from important people in my life. Other days I know that even though it will be hard, I will find the perfect parents. It just depends on the day.


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