I was a mother of 2 children, I was single. I was working and living in a small apt that rented for 150.00 a month. I was behind on the rent.
 My daughter was 8 years old, my son was 2. I had lived with my grandparents on and off since I had my daughter. I was 17 when she was born.
 I was trying desperately to live on my own.
 I had no help from the father of my children. 
I remember going to the United Way office to get a free pregnancy test. The lady told me to come back after lunch to get the results. I made my way over to the office in a daze, fearful of the results. Surely it would be negative, surely.
 My son played on the floor and the world collapsed around me. I felt like a giant weight was pulling me to the bottom of the ocean. I cried uncontrollably for the next hour.
 I managed to leave the office and drive to my grandparents’ house, where my daughter was.
 I was numb. I stayed numb for some time.
   When I was in my 5th month, my grandmother who I had not told about my pregnancy passed away. I was at her home, and she reached up to fix her pillow and she died. I started CPR and called 911. She was gone. This was very hard on me.
  I mention this because it intensified my stress. I had never felt so alone and afraid.
            My daughter was very attached to her great grandma. My mom was not really in my life at this point. I had been depending on my grandparents like my parents for years. They helped me feed my children and keep a roof over their head. I had moved out because I wanted so bad to be on my own. I didn’t want to have to tell them I was having another child.
   I told my dad at the funeral.
My mom had given a child up for adoption in 1963. It was a different world then, she had to go to a unwed mothers home, her daughter had to be in a orphanage until she was adopted months later.
 I was around 7 and ½ months when I started thinking about adoption.
The birth father had started seeing someone else and he was coming around less often. I was struggling to feed myself and my children. My grandfather was lost in grief, he could function hardly.  I couldn’t depend on him any longer. I lost both my grandparents when my grandmother died.
  I remember crying a lot, being very depressed. I was broke all the time.
I started looking in the paper at those ads, “nice couple wants to give your baby a home”
I prayed about it, I talked to my friends about it.
I called my mom. I asked her what she thought. I talked to my sister who had been adopted out in 1963; mom and “Sidney” had found each other in 1991.
 My older sister, Sidney (her birth name) helped me find 3 couples, in various parts of the country.
   I prayed about this decision a lot. I felt peace, that I was doing the right thing.
The couple I chose was from Tx. They lived in Indiana for job reasons. They had been married for 14 years. I met the lady and her mother. I didn’t want them to see where I lived so we met at a restaurant.
  They were wonderful people I felt.
 They called me and asked about me regularly. My sister called when it was time for me to deliver.
It was the only cesarean I ever had to have; it was like my body didn’t want to give the baby up. It was an emergency operation. I was very scared.
The new parents were there with me and very supportive. The entire baby’s new family was on hand at his birth, grandparents and aunts and uncles. I felt like this baby was going to a warm loving family.
  I held him a couple of times just to hold him. I felt so empty and hollow. I was a shell.
I managed to get out of the hospital quickly as possible. 
I kept hoping that the birth father would come to the hospital and tell me he would be there for me. He didn’t.
  I had to have a counselor talk to me before I could sign. I did, I cried some more. The counselor told me something that helped me many days in the coming years. She said “you’re doing the right thing, you’re going to be ok, and you’re very unselfish.”
 I knew that the baby was going to have a much better life with his new family. I knew my children would have a better chance without another child to share what little we had with.  I felt like I would be the only one to hurt. I could do that for my baby and my children. I loved them all so much.
   I drove to the hospital parking lot and I looked up at the windows, I cried all night.
I signed the papers the next day.
The parents always told him he was adopted and told him about me. I got pictures at birthdays and Christmas.
  One day when he was around 13 I got to talk to him on the phone. I can’t tell you how sweet his voice sounded. I was so happy.
When he was 18 he called me the day after his birthday. He asked me if he could come live with me. I said YES!!! I never even thought about why or what or anything.
He came home 18 years later.
This was in 2009. He doesn’t live with me anymore but he lives within 20 min of me. I see him a lot. We have family dinners. He is a part of our family; he is trying to adjust to having a brother and sister. He has 2 nieces and a nephew.

 I get to be around all my children. Matthew has the best of 2 worlds and 2 moms who love him very much.
I am blessed beyond measure.
 Tula

Photobucket

4 Comments on Tula’s Story

  1. Thanks for sharing your story. It was very touching, and I am so glad you got to meet up with him as he got older.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.