I am a Birthmother - A story on Adoption

A few weeks ago as we let the news spread about our adoption a crazy thing happened. I had women emailing, texting, and messaging me telling me their stories. It was the oddest phenomenon and one I didn’t expect. but was completely blessed by. That when the idea was born for these stories to be told on here. We all have stories- good or bad, but they need to be told. You may never know whose life you’ll touch/change by simply being honest and willing to share. So, with that said, if you have a story you’d be brave enough to share on her, please email it to me. I’d be more that happy to post it up here anonymously, but please, PLEASE tell it! Today a sweet friend from school is sharing her story…My name is Holly and I am a birthmother. I became a birthmother at the age of 23. Believe me, if someone were to say that I would have a child and have to give that child up for adoption at 23 I would have laughed. I grew up around adoption, my mother, father, aunt and uncle were all adopted into their families. My daughter’s father was also adopted. Adoption wasn’t a scary word where I came from and treated as a way for adults to become parents when they couldn’t have their own children. The only thing scary about it, was not hearing anything about the birth parents- who they were, where they came from, what were they like, how did my Grandma and Grandpa even adopt? So when I became a birth mother, I became the scary part of adoption not everyone wanted to see. My story starts like this- I was a single mom of a 3 year old, working full time and going to school full time. I was dating a lovely man (who is now my husband) and he also had a 3 year old and he worked full time. When that stick showed two pink lines, I freaked out.

I sat on the bathroom floor and cried for what seemed like hours. Then I started to pray. I had lost a part of religion after my first marriage to a very abusive man at the ripe age of 18, but that’s a different story. Something came over me almost immediately while I was praying. A picture of a couple friend of mine and the birth fathers came to mind. They had been trying to adopt for years, but due to them being a mixed racial couple and older, they were having a very hard time with the adoption process. It seemed like every couple they met and were considered to adopt their children, backed out or something horrible would happen to the children and they wouldn’t be able to adopt. So when this picture flashed across my eyes, I knew I could stop crying. I informed the birth father of my decision, stating it wasn’t fair to do an abortion when I had made the mistake. The baby didn’t make the mistake, I did. I made a choice to get pregnant (whether intentionally or not) to have a child out of wedlock and I needed to deal with what happened next. He never questioned my choice, never fought me on the decision- even when it would have just made everything ten times easier. No one would have to know if I terminated the pregnancy, no one would have to judge us or make snide comments, and no one would blame us for making a mistake- especially because we already had children of our own.

The adoptive parents were on board from the start and we made boundaries very clear from the beginning. I couldn’t go through 9 months of a pregnancy just to give up a child and not know where they were or who they were doing. So we decided together on an open adoption. My daughters parents were right there every step of the way. As long as I told myself from the beginning that they were her parents, I was able to cope with the idea that a part of me would never fully be there. I went through 9 months of torment every time someone asked me a question about my pregnancy. Was it a boy or girl? When is it due? What are your baby names? It caused stressed with my family, even coming from adoption they couldn’t understand my reasoning. I tried to explain that isn’t about drugs or alcohol, it’s not child protective services taking my child, it was just me- trying to make a couple be a family in the only way they would ever get to experience it. I thought the stress would end my relationship with the birth father and I thought my 3yr old would somehow catch on and start acting out.

When those 9 months were over, and I was in the delivery room waiting for my c –section, I decided to not see my daughter. I knew I would selfishly call off the adoption, even when my situation hadn’t changed for the better. I heard her cry the first time with her mother sitting by head and holding my hand- it was then that God gave me a little peace and let me fall asleep until I awoke by myself in my hospital room. I dreamt of a little girl that night and knew I had done the right thing by not seeing her until the adoption could be finalized. Her parents visited me in the hospital, made sure I was completely taken care of and showered me with thank you’s and compliments of being brave. In my weaker moments I wanted to take her back and scoop her up and apologize for having to give her away and I was wrong for deciding to give her up. But in my stronger moments, which are MUCH more frequent now then the weaker ones, I know what I did was right. I didn’t know I would get a much better job, or that I would marry her birth father. I didn’t know that my life would become more stable in just a few shorts months after having her. But what I did know, was that she had two parents who wanted her very badly and couldn’t have a child by themselves.

I see my daughter once a month and receive pictures almost daily. I know how tall she is and how much she weighs and what her favorite color is. I know she taken care of and loved as much as I could love her. I do not regret giving her up for adoption, but I thank God every day for leading me to a path so much better then termination. He showed me where to turn when I didn’t have a clue; he showed me how fulfilling it would be to give someone something that important and special.

I want to stress to everyone out there- there isn’t just one option. There are a lot of different decisions when dealing with child birth/pregnancy/raising a child. Loving a child doesn’t mean they have to be blood, and knowing the difference if you can provide for a child and keeping that child because of selfish reasons for not being judged- is the most important thing. Adoption does not have to be scary- for either side. It is a beautiful thing and should be appreciated in whatever form.

What a story….what a birthmother. I can honestly say that birthmothers are extremely brave and pretty down right awesome!