I was seventeen and still in my senior year of high school when I found out I was pregnant. At first, I was scared and I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was dating the father of my child, but we broke up soon after I discovered I was pregnant. I knew he wouldn’t be in the picture anymore. I didn’t want to tell anyone that I was pregnant for fear of being looked down upon, so I decided to hide my pregnancy until I knew what the right thing to do was. I was so afraid I was going to make the wrong decision that this took a long time. I was pretty much alone, and I knew that nobody could help me.
I kept my growing belly a secret for about four months, but then it started to become obvious so I told everyone. By then I had decided that adoption would be right for me because I was young and had nothing to offer my baby. I wanted her to have the world at her fingertips. I just couldn’t give her that. Yet, my decision was difficult for others to accept. My mom told me that if I thought adoption was right then she would support me, but you could tell it was killing her. My sister had this whole life planned out for me and the baby, but it just wouldn’t have worked. The birth father said that I would never be able to follow through with my adoption plan. My friend Kym was the best, though. She reassured me the whole time that what I was doing was special and that it took a lot of courage.
Choosing a Family
When I was about seven months pregnant, I contacted Adoption Associates, and I was amazed at how helpful everyone was. Everything started to happen so fast! I received my first packet of adoptive family profiles, but there were none that I really connected with. Three days later I received more profiles, and when I opened them up, I knew instantly who I was going to pick before I even opened the profile. But before I had a chance to meet the adoptive family, I went into labor. The family came to the hospital to meet me, and then I knew they would be right for my child.
The Hospital Stay
The hospital stay was the most difficult part of the process. I knew I only had two days to hold this beautiful baby and call her my own. I had to name her, and care for her, and then give her to her new parents. My last night in the hospital was the worst, but I evaluated my situation and knew that I could not give my baby what she deserved.
There have been hard times, but I have continued on with life. I am starting school and I have moved in with a friend of mine. Sometimes I cry at night thinking about her, but I am okay.
I chose to have an open adoption, and I receive frequent updates about my baby. I would recommend this to anyone in my position.