Each week, exclusively for Slate Plus members, Prudie discusses a new letter with a fellow Slate colleague. Have a question for Prudie? Submit it here.
Dear Prudence,
I’ve made a very personal decision and I don’t need advice about it, but I do need advice about how to share it with others. I got unexpectedly pregnant when we weren’t trying. My husband wasn’t overjoyed, but I thought everything was ok. When I had a health scare in my second trimester, he announced it was all too much pressure, he wasn’t in love with me, he didn’t want to be a dad, and he was having an affair. I was blindsided and heartbroken. We’re in the process of getting divorced, and while the legal aspects are still being worked out, I’m planning an open adoption for my daughter. I know this seems cold and that there are many other ways to do this, but I think this is the best thing I can do for her.
I’ve told my close family and close friends, and people are trying to be supportive, although there’s a lot of judgement. But I am very visibly pregnant, originally planned maternity leave, and work, all my neighbors/acquaintances/less-close friends and relatives don’t know I won’t be bringing her home. Many people don’t know about the divorce. How do I handle this when people ask me about my pregnancy, or daycare plans, or everything? How do I handle this at work? If I were braver I would just say nothing forever, but at some point, I will go from very pregnant to no baby, and it’s going to be really hard and sad. I don’t want to go into the whole mess with people I’m not close to. How do I set myself up for the fewest uncomfortable talks about this?
—Birth Mom
Jenée Desmond-Harris: This is REALLY hard. The situation itself, and the request for advice.
Lizzie O’Leary: Oh, I am so upset by this question. This poor woman is dealing with so much. Before we even get to the “what to say to people” question, I hope that the LW is talking to a therapist about this. The entire process is going to be emotionally taxing, and I want her to have as much support as she can. That said, I am reminded of our conversation from a couple of weeks ago where we talked about our society needing to learn to behave itself on a more general level! Strangers shouldn’t be asking! I mean, I know why they are, because dogs and babies are things people make chit chat about, but oooooofffff.
Jenée: So true. I’m glad you mentioned speaking to a therapist. I even noticed the letter writer criticizing herself, saying “If I were braver …” and “I know this seems cold.” But she actually is very brave and the decision doesn’t seem cold at all. And she has enough to deal with, with the divorce, and the physical toll of pregnancy, without beating herself up. So, I know it’s not going to be easy (and that the judgy jerks in her life aren’t helping much), but I really hope she can get to a place where she’s a little more okay with the decision herself, before worrying about how others react.
Lizzie: I wholeheartedly agree! LW, please give yourself some grace. You actually seem very brave to me. I think this might be a situation where a script would help. Something to say to the dry cleaner or neighbor you pass every once in a while. You want to be honest, but not too honest. And not invite further conversation. Maybe something like, “I decided that the best thing I could do for her was give her to a loving family. I don’t really want to talk more about it, I’m sure you understand.” What do you think of that? I also have another idea, but I want your reaction to the script first.
Jenée: I think it’s good! To edit it for the random people who are just like “Ooh, you’re pregnant! Congrats on the new addition to your family!” she could add an explanation of the adoption like “Obviously you had no way of knowing this, but because of a really difficult personal situation I’ve actually chosen an open adoption for the baby. It’s not something I really want to talk more about, and I’m sure you understand.” How’s that?
Lizzie: Oh, that’s very good. And (surprise!) a bit less blunt than I would be. I think we can also use the forces of gossip for good here. If the LW is up for it, I think she can allow a handful of chosen friends to sort of seed the ground for her, and let people know that this is what is happening, and that it’s delicate, and to give the LW care and support. Obviously, that won’t take care of everyone, but it might take some of the burden off her.
Jenée: We’re on the same page. I was even thinking about having an official spokesperson for each area of her life. I think a good friend would be happy to take on that task, share the news, and give some really clear reminders about how not to approach the letter writer about it. Then, like you say, she’ll just have to deal with the few people who don’t get the memo.
But I do have to say, there’s just probably not a way for this to be easy. Pregnancy is hard for a lot of people, and it brings out all kinds of strange and unsolicited opinions. That’s annoying enough when you’re just in an average situation and people are going “Make sure the baby never has screen time!” or “You’re going to have to put him down so he doesn’t get used to being held a lot,” and it’s going to be so much worse when the underlying facts are sensitive.
I think she should plan something to look forward to when she’s given birth and recovered and the adoption and divorce are complete.
Lizzie: YES! Something that takes care of her. Whether that’s time with a close friend, or a spa day, or whatever makes her feel the most like herself.
You said something to me once when we were talking about my cancer and it has stuck with me ever since. You said that I “asked for what I needed.” I don’t think I would have seen it that way, but I think asking for what you need is a really important thing to cultivate. It lets the people who love you show up in the right way.
Jenée: Absolutely. And that’s admittedly easier to do when it’s cancer and everyone is like “WHAT CAN I DO?” than when you’re making a choice that some people are judgmental about. But I guarantee there are people out there who would love the opportunity to support her—and remind her that she has nothing to be ashamed of.
Lizzie: One hundred percent.
