Stop Telling Me to ‘Just Adopt’: Why Dismissive Advice Feels Like a Gut Punch
Infertility is a wild, unpredictable storm. Some days, it’s a gentle drizzle of longing; other days, it’s a full-force hurricane that leaves you breathless and grasping for something—anything—to hold onto. And then, amid the wreckage, someone casually tosses out, “You could always adopt.”
It lands like a stone in your gut. Heavy. Unwelcome. Dismissive.
The Hidden Harm of “Just Adopt”
When people say this, they’re often trying to smooth over the discomfort, to put a bow on something inherently messy. But here’s the truth: infertility isn’t a problem to be fixed with a one-size-fits-all solution. From a feminist therapy perspective, this kind of response is a reflection of a society that struggles to sit with pain—especially women’s pain.
Women, in particular, are expected to be resilient but quiet, to grieve without making it too visible, to adjust and adapt without rocking the boat. “You could always adopt” is a phrase steeped in this conditioning—it suggests that if one path is closed, we should simply pivot without mourning, without questioning, without feeling too much.
But let’s be clear: our grief is not an inconvenience.
Infertility and the ACT Approach: Sitting With the Unbearable
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) teaches us that pain doesn’t need to be erased or fixed—it needs to be felt, acknowledged, and integrated. The more we push away discomfort, the more it controls us. So, what if instead of trying to outrun the sorrow, we sat with it? What if we allowed ourselves to feel the ache, to honor the loss, to make space for all of it—without judgment?
In ACT, we don’t strive for a “happily ever after” that ignores our suffering. Instead, we ask:
What truly matters to me in this moment?
How can I show up for myself with compassion?
How can I move forward in a way that aligns with my values—not someone else’s expectations?
Why “Just Adopt” Feels Like a Silencing Tactic
This phrase assumes that adoption is a simple, neat solution. It isn’t. Adoption is complex, expensive, and layered with its own ethical and emotional challenges. But more than that, it suggests that our grief is unnecessary—that we should skip the part where we mourn and leap straight into action.
And that’s not how healing works.
Feminist therapy reminds us that our pain is valid. That we don’t need to be “good girls” who swallow our hurt and move on. That our emotions don’t need to be made more palatable for others. That we deserve to take up space in our own stories.
What to Say Instead
If you truly want to support someone navigating infertility, try this:
💛 “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. I’m here to listen.”
💛 “What do you need right now?”
💛 “Your feelings are completely valid.”
Infertility is not a wound that needs a quick bandage—it’s a lived experience that deserves care, attention, and deep self-compassion. If you’re walking this path, you don’t have to justify your grief or rush your healing.
Take up space. Feel it all. And know that you are never, ever alone.
At Uncomfortable Joy Infertility Therapy, we hold space for all the messy, beautiful, heartbreaking parts of this journey. No quick fixes. No silencing. Just real, compassionate support. 💛
