When you showed off your gorgeous new baby to my two year old and we ooed and aahed, that wasn't an invitation to ask my two and a half year old if she has any brothers and sisters (which by the way... couldn't you probably tell when you looked at my husband and I and our young daughter out with our extended family?). When we replied "no," and your response was "Well come on Mom and Dad!" you couldn't know the deep pain that causes us. You couldn't possibly know of the trauma we faced post birth; my surgeries, the fear, the weeks in the hospital. And now thirty months later the continued recovery, the fact that not an hour goes by that my body isn't reminded either physically or emotionally of all it's been through. And the deep desire to give our daughter a sibling but the terror involved in another pregnancy and delivery.
You couldn't possibly know that out of that desire has grown the dream to adopt an infant. That less than three weeks ago we experienced a failed adoption. The very day after we finally told our daughter she would get to be big sister to a baby brother, when we thought we were getting the call to go pick him up at the hospital- we instead got the news that our birth family had made the brave decision to raise him. So when you ask my little girl if she has a brother or sister and she says "Yes I have a baby brother!" over and over because she is still figuring this all out... you couldn't know how that broke my heart. You couldn't see that I swallowed my tears to finish sobbing in the car on the way home.
So please sir, while I don't blame you for your comments I do blame your privilege. And all of our privilege for that matter- our white privilege, class privilege, American privilege, the privilege to have children easily, to be straight, to be healthy, and able bodied.
Sir you reminded me of the deep need to walk in each other's shoes, on the very day that our nations government took a turn in the opposite direction. I don't usually make political statements, and I don't plan to start now. But this tiny example of my personal sadness made clear the reason I will walk in the Women's March today. For anyone whose story needs to be told, for all those underserved. Any amount of privilege you experience, for whatever reason, should compel you to stand in support.
As one of my favorite pastors reminded me today, the Lord moves through what is hard. God has us in his hands: me, my family, and our country, and as scary as it is-I trust Him.