I have a car. It’s MY car..not yours. I own a house with my fiance. It’s OUR house, not yours. I have a job. Granted, it sucks, but it is still MY job, not yours. I have parents (several of them, in fact). They are MY parents, not yours. This computer I’m typing on? MINE…all MINE..and NOT YOURS.
And for the record, that woman who is giving you her child via the “miracle of adoption”…is not YOUR birth mother. She is your adopted child’s mother. And while I’m sure it makes things seem all cozy in your world to call her YOURS…it’s just not right to refer to her that way.
I can’t tell you the number of times I have read adoptive/potential adoptive parent’s blogs in which they say, “We talked to our birth mother today!”. No, you talked to an expectant woman who may or may not decide to hand over their child to your care.
Sigh. Just stop it already.
**I LOATHE the words "birth mother" used in combination but figured I would use them for emphasis.