Adoption Support – Really?

Our decision to adopt was well received by our friends and family, and a great many people were very supportive in our decision. Few more so than our doctor, however.

Rarely have I seen that kind of excitement outside a six year old’s birthday party, where the happy little protagonist just received his main gift after a heavy dose of jelly and ice cream.

Our doctor was euphoric to the point where it was unnerving.

Upon sharing our news, our doctor, expressionless behind his thin square-rimmed glasses, changed from a poker-faced statue into a beaming 3D full motion picture, more akin to children’s entertainment, than the bore of a village practitioner.

Put a clown’s nose on him, and he could easily have joined the circus.

I was delighted with his reaction, and perched forward on my seat, myself getting caught up in the moment, readied for ten minutes of high-fives and whoop-whopping when it suddenly hit me.

I knew why he was so ecstatic.

The GP hated telling us about infertility – especially me. My wretched gonads had caused him nothing but embarrassment and discomfort for the past two years. Every time I stepped into his office, the poor man had to deliver another helping of bad news to my wife and I – he must have thought we were cursed.

His joy was not borne out of genuine pleasure for us, it was unmitigated relief that he will no longer have to tell me that the fleshy useless skin between my legs was, yet again, filled with nothing but disappointment.

An air of anti-pregnancy was also brewing, as he clearly had no scruples in telling us about his own children driving him crazy as babies, and in fact, did more than insinuate that we had ‘dodged a bullet’ with the birthing process.

It is bloody painful.

He matter-of-factly stated.

His Cheshire cat smile was infectious though. My wife and I had cottoned on to his ulterior motive, but we didn’t care. Whether his joy was for us, or for him, he was rejoicing, and we couldn’t help but feel good about it.

I had to join in; I sprang up, palm open high above my head …

Woo-hoo – high five!

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About the Author: Andrew McDougall

Andrew is an adoptive father, and stay at home dad. Having adopted his son in January 2013, he is a new adoptive parent, but well versed in the adoption process. He is a married, coffee drinker, Xbox addict, and a graduate of Marketing. Andrew McDougall is an alias he uses to protect the identity of his adopted son.