This morning my husband and I bundled up Miss Ella and headed down to our optometrist’s office for our annual checkups. Ordinarily, I would not subject Ella to this kind of boring torture, but her babysitter was unavailable.

We had a rough night with Ella, and all of us looked rather weary. My optometrist was in a very bad mood and unpleasant to say the least. When my poor tired eyes had been prodded, examined, and dilated, I mentioned to the doctor that the last time I’d been in his office, we didn't have Ella home yet.

To make a short story long, he turned to me and asked, “So, what’s her story?” His tone was insensitive and condescending, and I was totally taken by surprise. I took a deep breath:“She needed a mother, and we needed a daughter.”

“Well ya, I know that,” he replied arrogantly, “but was she left somewhere or something?”

By this point I was fully in control of myself and answered calmly, “She was put up for adoption, and we adopted her.” End of conversation, end of visit – I was out of there.

Just when you least expect it, a question like this comes out of nowhere. Perhaps being tired was to my advantage, and anger wasn’t my first response. It wasn't that the words were so hurtful, it was the tone and manner they were said in.

Some sage advice from our agency’s pre-adoption workbook was working (albeit slowly) in the back of my mind. This was the acronym we were advised to learn when fielding questions: WISE.
W: walk away
I: ignore
S: share
E: educate

Within each of these categories there are several subcategories. Obviously, I opted to share, but on a limited basis. The question was not asked in a sensitive, caring, respectful or intelligent manner, hence, the response was limited. Ella’s history is her history, and hence her private business. I’ve been asked nicely for this same information before, but I still refuse to share. To use an overused expression, “it is her story to tell.”

Jan Baker over in Birth/First Parent Blog brought this up in her blog in early March. As a topic, I can promise you that it will reappear. Unfortunately, these questions are not going to go away, so we might as well be prepared. As tempting as it is, telling people that they are being ignorant and insensitive may bring temporary satisfaction, but in the long run I don’t think it will stop these questions from being asked again. If you can turn the question around in such a manner that the person will reflect, even briefly, and then go on to educate them a little, perhaps another parent and/or child somewhere will not have to go through this.

I can’t even imagine how hard it is going to be when Ella is older. In all honesty, my gut response to these questions is to wrap my arms around Ella and hug her. The “she bear” in me wants to protect my cub from external dangers, and people’s words can really hurt.

I’m very tempted to change optometrists, but instead, I think I’ll hold off until I see him again, when perhaps I can go from the “s” to the “e” in the WISE acronym.

If you’d like to read more about responding to (inappropriate) questions about adoption, you can check out these links:

Gracious Answers to Awkward Questions About Our Adopted Kids

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Parenting Dilemma Coping with rude questions about our adopted child