We'd been married almost five years when my husband and I started telling people we were going to adopt someone older. Many squirmed upon hearing the "A" word. Tack on "child" and the sweating started. Not that they didn't support the "A" word - they did - in theory. They just didn't understand why it would be a first choice rather than a runner up.

It seemed to make many moms - grandmothers, new moms, friends' moms, pregnant moms - a bit uneasy. They had not adopted or thought about it. They said things like: "Have the baby first, then think about adoption." And: "Why shop second hand when you can have the original, a little someone who looks just like you?"

Writing that was hard. Because these women appeared so grounded in their convictions. They understood motherhood in a way that not only flummoxed but made me question if I was a bit - how shall I put it? - off.

The verb "adopt" can connote taking on something that doesn't belong in the space where you're trying to put it. It can also mean embracing something new and finding a place where it belongs. I hate to admit but, for a time, I tried to adopt these other women's beliefs that having a baby was correct, even though not having one felt more in line with who I am. I so much wanted to belong, to fit in - which is no reason to have a baby. That's probably why, when we tried ("trying" is what you say when you're attempting to get pregnant - you don't need to spell it out because people know; they get it) I didn't conceive. It was a good thing. A relief.