My friend, Amy, grew up with a pet rabbit named Lucky. Once when she and her family were away on vacation, Lucky died in his cage. My friend's father found the rabbit and decided to not tell his family, opting instead to take the rabbit to a taxidermist, who stuffed Lucky into an attack bunny pose. Amy's father then "surprised" his family with Lucky on Christmas morning.
Another Lucky is the comment I often get in reference to our adopted (or soon to be) kids. Many times I've had people say that our adopted daughter is so lucky. I understand that this comment is made with good intentions, but it's the underlying implication that bothers me. As though our daughter who shares our biology is entitled to a nice life and the one who is adopted kind of lucked out.
I don't know the extent to which children feel the loss of their biological parents when they are infants, but I imagine it is a loss that is imprinted more on the core of their being than on their memory. Our daughter doesn't remember much of her life before we were her parents, but I think if I ask her in 10 years if she feels lucky to be relinquished and adopted, she would be conflicted about her response.
She was going to be our daughter before she was ever born and we are more catalysts for her life than than responsible for her current existence. I don't want her growing up feeling that she was somehow less deserving of the life she has than a child born to our family, partly for her feelings and mostly because I don't believe that. And I certainly don't want her growing up thinking that she somehow owes us for choosing to be her parents. Because I am a total freak when it comes to keeping rooms clean and I don't care what your history is, a clean freak mom is not something to feel lucky about.
