Words Matter

I read a blog post yesterday that was, ostensibly, a Father’s Day post. But it had a little dig in it that had me frowning whenever it came to mind throughout the day. Now, I’ll be the first to say, I don’t think the dig was intentional. But yet, it was there. See, the author went out of the way to say happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. Even adoptive dads.

As a parent whose children were adopted, it kills me to see people feeling like they have to stick a label in front of the term mom and dad, like we’re some kind of second class citizen in the parenting world. Does it really matter how you got to have kids? Once those children are yours emotionally, spiritually, and legally they’re yours. Period. You don’t need a label. (The only slight caveat might be when you’re having a conversation with or about those children wherein there’s a discussion of both their biological and forever families. Then you might need terms to help keep the people involved straight. Even then, I have to say, there are some better labels to use like, oh, say first names.)

My kids aren’t “my adopted kids” — they’re just my kids. Even if I had a mixture of biological and adopted kids, they’d all simply be my kids. If you really need a label for them, let’s call them my loved, wanted, prayed for, and cherished children. To label them because of the circumstances of their birth is akin to labeling biological children based on their birth process. “Oh, well, he’s my vaginal delivery. He’s always given me so much more trouble than my daughter. She was a c-section, you know. And the youngest? Breech. *shakes head* Honestly, that just sums it all up, doesn’t it?”

We don’t need labels for our families. At the end of the day, we’re all families made up of people who God put together. Shouldn’t that be enough?