It all started when I was 16 yearsold.  I was working at McDonalds at thetime.  An absolutely gorgeous guy walkedin, and I thought that I just had to know him. I had one of my co-workers deliver my pager number (this was beforeeveryone had a cell phone) to him and I figured that was probably going to bethe end of it.  Well, to my surprise, hepaged me later that day.  I was soexcited that a guy that looked that good could possibly be interested in plain littleold me.  We started going out and I wasbeyond thrilled.  He turned 20 not longafter we started dating.  My mom wasn’treally thrilled with the idea of me dating someone that much older, but I,being a dumb teenager, thought it was great. 

     After a couple of weeks of someheavy duty dating, the moment came when we took things to the next level.  We were both very stupid and not reallyconcerned about the consequences of our actions.  That one time was all it took for me to getpregnant.  I remember sitting in thebathroom staring at the test with its positive result.  I was so scared.  I immediately started crying.  How could I have let this happen?  I brought a phone into the bathroom and triedcalling Sperm-man (that is what he shall be known as, from now on).  He didn’t answer, right away so I had tothink of what to do next.  I eventuallywas able to get him on the phone, and told him the news.  His reaction was one of surprise.  We knew we had some serious talking todo.  I knew that I needed to tell my mom,but I just couldn’t do it right away. The next morning, before I left for school, I asked my mom if she wascoming home right after work.  She askedme why I needed to know.  I said that Ihad something to tell her.  Well, sheconvinced me to tell her then.  Needlessto say, neither of us had a very good day. Then the time came for me to tell my dad.  Talk about a scary situation.  We called him that night, and of course hewas extremely disappointed.  As far as hewas concerned, my only options were abortion or adoption.  I, on the other hand, knew that my PrinceCharming (aka Sperm-man) and I were going to raise this baby together and livehappily ever after.  Um….well, that isn’tquite how things worked out. 

     Sperm-man and I continued to seeeach other until I was about 4 months pregnant. He then decided to move on to one of the biggest floozies that the worldhas ever known.  They moved to CAtogether, which is where he learned that she really wasn’t a good choice.  I was still determined to raise this baby,with or without his help.  I got a crib,changing table, bassinet, and other various items.  I was going to make this work.

Then one morning, about a month orso before my due date, I woke up and thought about what a bad situation I wasgoing to be putting this baby in if I continued with my selfish thoughts aboutmotherhood.  I was a junior in highschool, with a year and a half left before graduation.  I was also working full-time at BaskinRobbins after school and on weekends. The only time I would get to see my baby was for the short time beforeschool, and after work.  That wouldn’t befair at all.  I also wasn’t exactlymaking the big bucks at my job, and babies sure aren’t cheap.  I sat down and wrote a list of pros andcons.  The cons outnumbered the pros.  I loved this baby in my tummy far too much toput her into this less than desirable situation.  She deserved more.  She deserved a mommy AND daddy to loveher.  She deserved to be raised where shewould never want for anything.  She deservedto be treated like the princess that she was. She did not deserve to be raised by a babysitter so that her teenage momcould try to prove that she could make this work.  I told my mom of my thoughts and what Ineeded to do.  We contacted an adoptionagency that was referred to us by a friend. I met with a caseworker, and not long after, I got to look at some familyprofiles.  I instantly fell in love withone family.  They had already adopted alittle girl, so my baby was going to have a big sister!  It all felt so right.  There wasn’t a whole lot of time to waste, soa short while later, I got to meet with the prospective parents.  The meeting went really well.  I showed them my ultrasound video and we tookturns asking each other lots of questions.  I decided that they were theright family for my baby, and tried to focus on the realization that this babywas not going to be just my little girl anymore. 

     My due date came and went and shestill hadn’t made her appearance.  6 dayslater, she decided it was time to enter the world.  She was born mid-afternoon, but we didn’tcall the adoptive parents right away.  Iknew that my time with her was limited, and I honestly wasn’t ready toshare.  I spent every possible secondwith her and had her with me all night. We called them the next morning to let them know that she was finallyhere.  They drove up to see her and weall hung out in my hospital room until the last possible second I could bethere.  We didn’t actually leave the roomuntil just before midnight.  I got tohold her in the wheelchair as we exited the hospital.  Handing her over to them was so unbelievablyhard, but absolutely necessary.  I knewshe was going where she belonged and that I was doing what was best forher.  My feelings needed to be set asideto ensure she got what she deserved.  Iwent back to school 2 weeks later.  Idecided to make the most of this decision, and I spoke, for the next few years,to sex-education classes, both junior high and high school, about the consequencesof unprotected sex.  Talking was helpful,but at the same time difficult, because I was the only one there who had placeda baby for adoption.  The other teensthat were talking had all kept their babies. Again, my feelings needed to be set aside so that I could maybe makesomeone think twice before making the same mistake I did.

     The arrangement that I had with the adoptiveparents was for visits several times a year as well as pictures andletters.  Well, unfortunately, that waspretty short-lived.  I don’t want to sayanything negative about the situation, so I’ll skip over a lot of things.  Basically, promises weren’t kept and I had nocontact at all with them from the time she was 4 until this past December, whenI found her on facebook.  She is now15.  I haven’t actually hugged her sinceshe was 2.  I still haven’t had anyactual contact with her, but I have written (via facebook) to her adoptivemother, and have talked to her on the phone once.  Things weren’t going smoothly initially, butwe are now on good terms, and I have a way to contact her, which is more than I’vehad in 11 years.  I even have pictures ofher now! My firstborn baby girl is absolutely beautiful!  She is doing better than I could have ever hopedfor.  She is extremely well adjusted, andeven brags about being adopted!  I can’twait until the day when I can finally hug her again!!   
     I havesince gotten married and had 2 kiddos that I get to be a mother to, andwho really hope to someday meet their big sister.  Being a mother, when you’re ready, is thebest thing in the world!  I now have ahusband that accepts me, drama and all, kids who think I’m the best mommy inthe world (not that they have anything to compare to), and the peace in knowingthat I made the absolute best decision for my first daughter.  The years that passed where I didn’t knowanything about her were beyond excruciating. I was always worried and wondering if she was okay.  I couldn’t understand why I was pushedaside.  Now that I know that she hasn’tsuffered at all and is doing amazingly well, I am at peace. 

Photobucket

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.