Links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven & Part Eight are at the bottom of this page. Ultrasound - Jan 1992 Birth Day Birth Day (left) & Placement Day (right) Placement Day Placement Day Placement Day 2-3 wks post-partum, my first hike w/ dad's hiking group. Top Left: 4 wks, Top Right: 3.5mos, Bottom: 7 mos Adoption Day - 10mos (I think)
My apologies that “soon” turned into 3 weeks. I had a lot of pictures to sort thru & scan in.
I ended Part Eight by saying that placing her for adoption & having some early visitation wasn’t the end of the story. There is no end to the story because it is has been an ongoing, growing relationship not only between my daughter & myself, but also a friendship with her mother that I could have never imagined. Even pondering it now, I’m just amazed at what God has given me. It’s beyond words.
Through the adoption I obtained something greater than I gave away. At 19, I was essentially a child. But her mother never treated me with disrespect. Initially, I viewed her a mother figure in my life, a mentor. At some point, I realized that we had a deep friendship…a bond in our daughter. What makes it so amazing is that I never expected it. I expected her to be a wonderful, loving mother training my daughter with Christian values & ethics. But I could have never anticipated the role I would play in their lives.
Over these 17 yrs, she has given advice and asked for advice. She has asked for my input & opinion on matters that have flabbergasted me. Not because of the subject, but because I am amazed her level of peace in allowing me to play such a role in my daughter’s life.
Remember those 12 other adoptive family profiles I viewed? That’s exactly what they lacked, peace. It emanated from their protective & guarded words. They didn’t say it outright, but they screamed, “We’re going to take your baby & hide her away from you. We want your baby, but we’re afraid of you. You’re a threat to our family!”And rightfully so in some cases… Hey, I’ve met plenty of other birthmothers & I have been afraid too. I am not condemning adoptive families for these feelings. This is all completely natural and I would feel the same way too. My point is that my daughter’s mother had the same peace from God that I had & He grew in us an unfathomable blessed friendship. Second only to my friendship with Yeshua.
Note to Birthmothers: Your adoption, whether closed or open, is an opportunity to assess your life & make necessary changes. Grow. Learn. Mature. Progress. Make life choices in light of your child whom you loved enough to give to bless another family.
Note to Adoptive Parents: Love your birthmothers (& other biological extended family). Pray for them as you pray for yourselves in raising your child. Both will make a tremendous impact in their lives and yours.
Ready for some pictures?
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Four
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Five
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Six
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Seven
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Eight
Archives
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Eight
Links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven are at the bottom of this page.
My mom and I were the first ones to leave after placing my daughter with her family. (They still had paperwork to do and such.) We hadn’t reached the end of the road, when my mother, never too good at finding the right words for the moment, said, “I would have helped you keep her if you wanted to.” I’m sure she meant to comfort me in some way, but…I turned away from her and stifled back the tears as I started out the window.
Along the long drive home, a few tears eventually did come, but I didn’t let her know it. I cried, not about the adoption, but about what I felt was a lack of understanding and insensitivity. She didn’t get it. And I suppose it was odd that I would expect her to as I doubt I ever shared with her how God spoke to me and how He had filled me with peace. All she knew was that I had made a decision to give up my baby.
Throughout this whole process, from the day God spoke to me until this day, I hadn’t shed a tear over the adoption. I was genuinely happy for them and completely resting in God’s peace. As I saw it, there was nothing to grieve over. So I didn’t.
Back at home, I was relegated to sleeping downstairs on the couch (mom didn’t want me climbing stairs with my stitches). The next morning, I marveled at how much pregnancy weight came off overnight. And I began my diet of soda crackers (nothing seemed very appetizing) and water.
Then the phone rang…
“I called [Anne-Marie]…to tell her how [the baby] slept all the way home…, and how many times she woke up in the night and how often she was feeding! I wanted her to know that I was a wonderful mother, meeting all of [the baby's] needs with tremendous love and care and devotion. She had, and will always have the right to know this firsthand.”
Initially, I didn’t know how to process her mother sharing all of this information with me. It wasn’t that I didn’t care to know or didn’t want to know. But rather than dwell on it; I just listened, responded, and took it all in figuring I would do something with all of it later.
As she talked, I held the gift she had given me the day before. In a white square jewelry box was a heart pendant on a necklace and a heart-shaped note. The note read: “To [Anne-Marie]- This little heart symbolizes the love and gratitude in our hearts for your precious gift to us. We promise to keep in touch and be the best parents ever!…”
She kept in regular contact with me. Soon we arranged our first visit. My daughter was 4 weeks old when I drove down to visit early on a weekday morning. According to the open adoption counselor the adoptive parents had been educated under, this visit should have only been for no more than three (3) hours. Well, I arrived at 9 am and I didn’t leave until almost midnight or later. There was a lot to talk about. She had a lot to show me. Things she had made as part of their open adoption training meant to be shared with potential birthmothers. She also had a stack of books about birthmothers and open adoption, newsletters from the open adoption counselor, etc.
There was also a time of Q & A. She had a long list of things she wanted to ask me, things she would be able to tell my daughter about me, my family, her biological father, etc. We had a lot of fun getting to know each other.
I cannot even begin to describe the blessing of being able to share in my daughters early moments. While I wasn’t there physically to witness most of it, they took endless videos and still pictures. My first photo album was filled before she was 3 months old, if not sooner.
Two events really stand out for me from those early months:
During one visit, we were at a restaurant having lunch. A woman approached to admire the baby. She asked, “Who’s the mother?” Her mother smiled at me and we said as we smiled and giggled, ‘We are.” I’m sure we gave a quick explanation and I reflect back on that with great pleasure at how I was blessed to share in that joy.
The other event wasn’t really an event, but rather a three-way discussion via snail mail and phone calls with the open adoption counselor in California. During a phone call, I believe, her mother had shared with me a conversation she had had with the counselor. The conversation was about the stages I needed to go through. One of the stages was grief. As I already mentioned, I had nothing to grieve about. You have to lose something to grieve over it. I hadn’t lost anything. In fact, I had received blessing upon blessing in not only sharing in my daughter’s life, but knowing her family and developing relationships.
So, as the story goes, I wrote a letter to the counselor, under and alias which she saw through in two seconds. My letter was blasting her about this grieving issue. I was a tad infuriated by her telling the adoptive mother that I “needed” to grieve. Upon receiving and reading my letter, the counselor called the adoptive mother to tell her that I was worse off than she imagined. Soon, her mother called me to tell me about the phone call. We talked about it and we laughed. The counselor just didn’t know me. The adoptive mother accepted my reasons for not agreeing with the “need” to grieve and we moved on to develop a great friendship.
At the conclusion of the adoptive mother’s story recounting their adoption experience she writes, “[She] is now nearly four months old. Our darling baby’s coos and gurgles captivate us, her cries tune us in to her needs, and her smiles melt our hearts. Our joy is indescribable! [Anne-Marie] has visited five times and will continue to visit whenever we can mesh our busy schedules. Thank you, [Anne-Marie], for your courageous decision to place your baby, and for making our dream come true!”
The story doesn’t end there, so Part 9 is coming soon!
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Four
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Five
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Six
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Seven
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Seven
Links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, & Part Six are at the bottom of this page.
“Then on May 19th,…[the adoption agency] called with wonderful news…[Anne-Marie] had a baby girl!! They told us to drive [up] as soon as [Anne-Marie] and [baby] were discharged from the hospital.”
After giving birth, I was moved into a private post-partum room. My best friend and her 3 yr old stopped by. Three hours later, my mom stopped in. She looked at me and said, “Are you flat?” Apparently, she did not get the message we left for her and had gone shopping. Eventually, I was alone. Completely alone.
I walked down to the nurses station and asked for all the paperwork for the birth certificate and social security card. After filling that out, I walked down to the nursery. As I had mentioned, the hospital didn’t know how to treat me as a birthmother. They had kept the baby from me after DiDi had left, not to be mean, but not knowing that I wanted to see her and care for her. The nursery nurse was giving her another bath when I went in. Apparently, she had made a mess in her bassinet. I asked if I could feed her and she said she would bring her to me at the next feeding. We chatted for awhile. I held her there. And then I returned to my room.
Around midnight, the nurse wheeled her little bed in there and showed me where all the stuff was in the cart. She helped me get situated in the bed (the IV was more annoying than the other discomforts). And she left me there to feed my daughter a 4 oz bottle of formula. The nurse had turned off the light and I had the plentiful light from the hallway to see by.
It was a quiet peaceful time. I looked her over and reflected on everything I had “thought” she would look like or remind me of. What really impressed on me most was how she was an individual. A product on two sets of DNA, yes, but so much more. She was beautiful.
All of a sudden, a loud alarm went off, the magnetic doorstop released, and I was alone in the pitch dark, feeding my newborn, and unable to maneuver to the nurse call button. I had no idea what was going on and I hoped someone would come open the door soon. I waited, but no one came. She was fast asleep in my arms, so I just snuggled down with her in my arms and lightly slept.
Three hours later, the nurse opened the door and apologized. There had been a small fire in the hospital kitchen and all the “safety” features kicked in. I was relieved that was over. The nurse took her back to the nursery and I went to sleep.
In the morning, DiDi and my mom arrived. DiDi had brought a cute outfit and a car seat. I got myself cleaned up and dressed. The OB released me about 11am. I rode in the backseat of DiDi’s car next to the baby. My mom followed DiDi to the agency, which was run out of the owner’s home. It was a 45 minute drive.
We arrived before the adoptive parents. They were coming from a further distance in the opposite direction as we had just driven. I settled in on the end of a sofa holding my daughter. Very shortly, a car pulled up in front of the house and a familiar face was in view.
“…24 hours after her birth…on May 20th, we met [Anne-Marie], her mother…,[the baby], [adoption agency owners], and [DiDi]…at [their] pleasant home…”
“Even though none of us had done this before (including [the adoption agency]), everyone seemed pretty relaxed on the surface. [Anne-Marie] looked exhausted (can’t imagine why!), but for about an hour, we chatted and admired our precious little bundle. And what a beautiful little bundle she was! She had lots of thick black hair, flawless skin, and a perfect little 7 pound, 7 ounce body.”
And I literally placed my daughter into the arms of her mother.
“We took lots of pictures, and then said good-bye with lumps in our throats. But we also knew we would talk again very soon, and be arranging a visitation.”
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Four
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Five
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Six
Part 8 coming soon!
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Six
Links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, & Part Five are at the bottom of this page.
“The agency did not want us to be at the hospital when [Anne-Marie] delivered, but said they would call us as soon as they had the news. Mother’s Day came and went, and our excitement and anticipation grew.”
Patience has never been a strong point of mine. As a person, I am always early or on-time with appointments. So when I went to the OB the day before my “due date”, I was a bit agitated that they were happy to have me go another week. I had wanted to go early, like the end of April. That didn’t happen.
Unfortunately, I would make it all the way to my next OB appointment, Monday, May 18th, 1992. There the OB said that I hadn’t made any progress. He ordered me to the hospital to start the induction process. Since the hospital was quite a bit away from the OB’s office and the hospital would not likely allow me to eat, DiDi suggested we stop for my last meal. She thought I was nuts, but I wanted pizza.
After my pizza break, we checked into the maternity ward. They started me out with PG gel on my cervix. I made a little progress, but not enough to proceed that evening. They scheduled me for an early morning Pitocin induction and sent me home.
It was a restless night. I tossed and turned until the alarm rang. On the way to the hospital, a 20 minute drive, I twisted in my seat and couldn’t get comfortable.
DiDi: “You’re in labor.”
Me: “No, I’m not. I just have a little pain in my lower back.”
DiDi: “You’re having contractions.”
Me: “No. It’s just a little pain.”
The conversation continued like this the whole time…
We arrived at the hospital on time, but it would be at least 2 good hours before they had all the monitors in place, the IV in my arm, the automatic blood measure cuff on, etc. The night before I was barely 3 cm and this morning, I was barely 4 cm. Finally, I was ready for the “Vitamin P” (pitocin) drip.
The monitors showed contractions which I never felt at all. They were as inconsistent as they could possibly be; 4 minutes apart, then 2, then 7, then 5, then 4, then 6…and on and on. Against my better judgment I succumbed to DiDi’s pressure to get pain relief. All I felt was a dull ache in my back, but she assured me it would get worse (did I mention DiDi had never given birth at this point?).
Loaded on Stadol and Vitamin P and still at 4 cm, the clock began ticking at 10am. They told me I would probably have a baby by 5 or 6 pm. I told DiDi to call the adoptive parents so they could be there for the birth, but she said she would call them after I had the baby. I was disappointed, but I was temporarily distracted. Eyes heavy, I struggled to keep an eye on the clock and watch the contractions on the monitor.
At 10:20, I told DiDi, “I have to push.”
DiDi: “You don’t have to push. You’re only 4 cm. You’re contractions are all over the place.”
Me: “I have to push.”
DiDi: “Wait a few more contractions.”
Me: “I have been waiting, but I keep falling asleep.”
Very reluctantly, DiDi got the nurse from the hallway. The nurse checked me and I was at 9.5 cm. She said I could start pushing.
With a mixture of relief and apprehension, I began pushing. I was not happy to be doped up and more on my back than I wanted to be (I had watched a years worth of birth films in a child development class in high school & I did not want to give birth on my back.)
About 30 minutes after I began pushing, the OB arrived with a student doctor in tow. He asked if I minded the student assisting. Hello? You could all be naked and have 50 students in the room and I wouldn’t protest. I happily agreed that he could stay. Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t ask him for his phone number.
Thirty more minutes passed and I heard the OB asked for his scalpel. I protested…loudly. He yelled back, “Do you want to tear?” and I screamed “Yes!” DiDi said calmly, “No, no, you don’t want to tear.” With malice and contempt, I conceded. (I came away calling it an “appease-i-otomy” because it appeased the OB.)
With that torture out of the way, I was still making little progress. An anterior lip had, after an hour of pushing against it, swelled, preventing the baby from getting anywhere. So, the OB got out his next torture device, the salad spoons. He pulled for an hour. And at 12:20pm, she finally made her appearance.
Without hesitation, I yelled to DiDi, “Call [the adoptive parents]!”
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Four
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Five
Part 7 coming soon!
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Five
Links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three, & Part Four are at the bottom of this page.
“…it is hard to convey in words all the love, happiness, and security we have to offer your baby!”
“We are interested in having an open adoption….willing to let you determine the degree of openness… At all times, you will have our love, support, and respect…”
“[Adoptive father-in-waiting] is hard-working, even-tempered, gentle and caring….puts family first…values honesty and the “Golden Rule”… [Adoptive mother-in-waiting] is a nurturing, “people-oriented” person…has many interests…will be full-time mom after we adopt.”
“We are Christians who value our faith, and believe in the power and importance of daily prayer and positive thinking…want to raise our children to be both humane and strong…who lives their own lives with strength and dignity. Good communication skills are one of the keys to good parenting…children should be listened to…allowed to express all of their feelings, even when their behavior is being restricted. Our adopted child will receive unconditional love…”
“…our hope is that you will be the special birthmother who will lead us to a child to love and cherish!”
At the time of my pregnancy, I didn’t know enough to trust that God, as the adoption was His will, had a plan for the whole thing. Rather than pray about choosing the adoptive family, I did the typical human thing…tried to use my own wisdom to “decide”. Thankfully, I had better expectations and desires for my child than I had a history of making good life decisions for myself. And I had the one true Father God working in and through this adoption, and around my stupidity and stubbornness.
DiDi was right. I wanted to choose this family.
In mid-April, about a month from my May due date, the family was contacted. A meeting was arranged and DiDi took me to meet the woman who would be my daughter’s mother. In a summary of the adoption experience, she writes, “I had one meeting with [Anne-Marie] and her social worker before [the baby] was born. I thought she was adorable. I found her to be thoughtful and intelligent. She seemed mature for her age (19) and had a wonderful sense of humor. And she was pretty too!”
At that meeting, I knew I had been given a wonderful blessing. Not only would my unborn child have the family she deserved, but there was no pretense with the adoptive-mother-to-be. She was as genuine as a person could be and she treated me just as their profile had stated with “love, support, and respect”. Through the eyes of an outsider, we would have seemed not only comfortable with each other, but as if we’d known each other forever. God’s peace continued to surround me.
Over the next few weeks, I focused on the adoptive family. Some might find it strange for me to say that I was excited for them. Through the letters that accompanied their profile and talking with the adoptive mother in person, I had come to know their longing for a child, the many times they ‘almost’ had a child, the counseling they had undergone for an open adoption, etc. I felt blessed to be the one God used in ending their 4+ year wait for a child.
To help facilitate an immediate bonding between the adoptive parents and the baby, I had already agreed to fore go the usual foster care and place the baby directly with the adoptive parents during the 3 day waiting period (the time allotted in my state for birthmothers to change their minds about adoption). After going to the hospital and enduring the strange registration process (They simply did not know how to treat me as a birthmother, it would have been better if we had not told them.), I decided to see if I could help with paperwork at the hospital. Via DiDi, I asked the adoptive mother if she had a name picked out yet.
DiDi called me the following day with a list of of 3 names the adoptive mother had narrowed it down to. I told her which one I liked best and she relayed the message to the adoptive mother. (We had asked at the meeting if we could exchange phone numbers, but the agency did not think it was a good idea, so all our communication went through DiDi until after the birth.) In the end, the name that I had liked best was the same name that the adoptive mother was leaning towards. With that, the name was decided.
And we entered the final waiting period…
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Part 6 coming soon!
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Four
Links to Part One, Part Two, & Part Three are at the bottom of this page.
Having been given the first three family profiles to review, DiDi suggested that I might want to think about telling my parents about the adoption. She said that she would be there with me to help me tell them if I needed her to be. As it happened, my mom was home that day, so with DiDi’s help I told her about my plans for placing my baby for adoption.
Honestly, it wasn’t all that dramatic. But the burden of my secret was lifted. It felt good not to be keeping it to myself anymore. Again, no big discussions with my parents about the matter.
Now, it was time to choose a family for my baby. This was a task I did not take on carelessly. I considered it to be the most important decision I would ever make for my child.
Regardless of how far I had fallen away from my Christian roots (God had spoken to me, but I was still crawling out of my self-made pit), as the one choosing my child’s adoptive family, I had specific desires for the upbringing of my child. I wanted my child to be in a professing Christian home. That was first and foremost. The first three profiles I had been given presented a real challenge to that desire.
It wasn’t just that the religious backgrounds of the families were different than my own. There seemed to be several areas of concern about which I would need to reconcile before I could choose the family. From income to personal values to child-rearing perspectives to how they viewed the birthmother; there was a lot for me to sift through, process, put into long-term, life-affecting perspective, and to finally surrender to a decision.
After much contemplation, I chose a family. I called DiDi and she called the family. It hadn’t come easy. But with the decision having been made, I was at peace with it.
A few days later, DiDi arrived with some bad news. All my hours of contemplation and resignation had been for naught. The family I had chosen, had already adopted a child through another agency. (I was told that those who can afford to do so, will sign with more than one agency to raise their chances of adopting sooner.) With that news, I was back to square one.
DiDi knew I had exhausted the first 3 profiles, so she brought me 3 new profiles to review. The first two profiles did not give me a lot of hope. For starters, they were pushing the line of unacceptable on the religious-side. I didn’t need this decision to be any more difficult than it already was, but difficult it was.
Then there was profile #6. When I flipped to the last profile in this new batch, I was a bit perplexed. It was the first profile DiDi had shown me some two and a half months prior. I asked DiDi why they were in here when another girl had chosen them in February. She told me, the other girl had given birth to a boy and this family specifically wanted a girl. As I would come to find out they had waited 4 years for a baby and were willing to hold out for a girl. (The mother had already raised a son.)
I’m fairly certain that DiDi thought my decision would be over the minute I saw their profile. Surprise of all surprises was that I wasn’t so quick to make that decision. It had been an emotionally trying time sorting through family profiles and wrestling with the decision of choosing a family for my child. In fact, within a few days, I had asked for another batch of family profiles.
I now had 8 family profiles before me and only one that fit my desires for my child.
Still, I wrestled. I sorted. I sifted. I underlined. I red-inked. I wrote notes. I asked questions (like “Could I live with this?”). I read the profiles until I had them memorized; faces and details.
DiDi said to me one day on the way to my OB appointment, “You know you want to choose them.”
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Part 5 coming soon!
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Three
Sorry for the long delay between Part Two & Part Three.
Links to Part One & Part Two are at the bottom of this page.
So, I was 18, pregnant, unmarried, and had battled with Planned Parenthood about my “choice” to parent my child.
Then I heard God speak to me about finding an adoption agency. He patiently waited with me until I made that call and filled me with unfathomable peace.
Next, I was learning all about the adoption process, the legalities, and my responsibilities:
- I would choose the parents for my child from profiles of families registered with the agency.
- The law allowed me 72 hours in which to change my mind about adoption after giving birth. The standard practice, since hospitals were kicking new moms out within 24 hrs of giving birth, was for the agency to place the baby into a foster home until the 72 hrs had expired.
- The biological father of the child also had to agree to the adoption and sign away his rights to the child.
- All of my expenses would be paid for either by the adoption agency and/or through any government aid I might qualify for.
- While I was under no obligation to follow through with the adoption (i.e. I could change my mind), I was liable for any expenses incurred on my behalf by the agency should I change my mind.
- And that the agency required the adopting families to provided quarterly photos for the first year, to be kept in the file at the agency for the birthparents to view at any time.
That was pretty much the long and short of it. And since I had no intention of changing my mind, I signed without hesitation. This was God’s idea, not mine, so I was determined to be obedient. Since I was filled with His peace, I had no doubts.
The next time I saw the counselor, she introduced me to another counselor (I’ll call her DiDi). DiDi would take me to all of my OB appointments and would be with me when I gave birth. She was also my advocate whenever I needed her, such as in dealing with the biological father and later with the hospital where I would give birth. DiDi and I became close, as close as an adoption counselor and a birthmother-in-waiting can be. Looking back, I can see how God’s peace in me made me stand out to DiDi and others at the adoption agency. Not to brag and not through my own doing, I was not their typical birthmother.
In late January 1992, after my OB appointment, DiDi gave me a Family Profile to look at so that I could see what they were like. With 4 months to go, it was still too soon for the agency to allow me to choose a family for my child. But DiDi got permission to show me a profile from a couple she thought wouldn’t mind because they were seeking an open adoption, something the agency had never overseen before.
It was a lot to take in; from ages to income to education to marital history to religion, etc. It was several pages long and included a few pictures. Some of it the family had written themselves and some had been written by interviewer from the adoption agency.
DiDi asked me at one point what I thought about the family and what I thought about open adoption. Honestly, I had never considered open adoption. I was preparing to give my child away, never to be seen by me again. That was really all I knew in my very limited knowledge of adoption anyway. So, the concept of open adoption was too odd for me to even process at that time. I did like the family and they were willing to leave the openness up to the birthmother. DiDi told me their profile would be included in my first batch of profiles.
Two months later, DiDi handed me 3 family profiles. She told me to take my time and look them over. If I wanted, I could request more profiles until I found a family. But I had already decided. I had had two months to think about the first profile she had shown me. I flipped through the profiles to find the family I had chosen, but their profile wasn’t in there. I asked DiDi where their profile was and she told me the bad news; another girl who gave birth in February had chosen them for her son.
It wasn’t that I was heartbroken, but I was disappointed. After having thought hard about that family for two months, I now had to look for another family for my baby. As if giving up one’s child for adoption isn’t hard enough, choosing the “perfect” family for one’s child is beyond words. And I had my work cut out for me…beginning with these 3 family profiles…
BTW, I still hadn’t told my parents that I was placing my baby for adoption.
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
Part 4 coming soon!
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
A link to Part One is at the bottom of this page.
Two months before God spoke to me, two months before I made that call to the adoption agency; I found myself at a Planned Parenthood clinic. It was a mixture of innocence and ignorance.
Planned Parenthood packaged and sold itself as “educational” and as “women’s care”. So well, in fact, they were welcomed into two (2) private Christian schools where I attended. Later, while in public high school, a friend informed me that I could get cheap or free female exams by going to Planned Parenthood. Therefore, it seemed to me that was a logical place to go for a pregnancy test and medical “care”.
To say that my appointment that day was an eye-opening experience would be an understatement. When I got beyond the irritation, I was completely dumbfounded. Thankfully, what I lacked in on-the-spot thinking and eloquent speech, was made up for my by stubbornness.
In the exam room, the nurse practitioner made no secret about being disgusted with my pregnancy. As she gave me confirmation of the pregnancy, her face soured more as my face brightened at the news. She was just rude. And it was the roughest exam of that nature I have ever had. Throughout the exam, she had this lecturing tone although I am not sure what she said because I was only concerned with the new life growing inside me. She concluded the exam by telling me, “Your boyfriend is cheating on you.” Somehow, I managed not to laugh out loud.
My next stop on the lecture train was the Nurse Counselor’s office…or disaster clutter area. She closed the door (which had a large glass window) and proceeded to fill out her forms. After gathering some information from me, she asked, “So what are you going to do about the pregnancy?”
This is where the dumbfounded cloud perched above my head. Honestly, it seemed like a silly question for her to ask. With an are-you-serious half-laugh, I responded, “I guess I’m gonna have a baby.”
Well…here is where I got an education. I had “choices”. She told me I could have an abortion. She shoved my immediate dismissal aside. For the next forty-five (45) minutes, she lectured me on the virtues of abortion. I do not have any recollection of what she said because I closed my ears. I was not about to kill my baby and I resented her droning on as if I could be persuaded.
Somewhere in the middle of her abortion sales pitch, she mentioned adoption…once. I said, “Oh, I could never do that.” And she quickly went back to abortion.
Finally, in apparent frustration, she gave up. On my diagnosis paper, she wrote, “Mother chooses to parent.”
Story Links:
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
Part 3 coming soon!
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part One
In September of 1991, at the age of 18, I discovered that I was pregnant. Yes, I was unmarried. Yes, the pregnancy was unplanned. No, abortion was not an option. And adoption, well, although I had the utmost respect for those who had made that decision, I could not imagine how I could bear the pain of giving up my own flesh and blood.
There are many details, especially here in the beginning that I must leave out to tell the story. As a details person, this goes against my nature, but I fear that too many details will obscure the story I need to share. And I do not want you to miss the real story.
Being pregnant did not change the relationship between my boyfriend and me. We were moving forward with our life plans. However, circumstances did change. I wound up selling my car and flying cross-country to stay with my sister for an undetermined amount of time.
Over the course of the next few weeks, the baby had given me a new perspective. I had tolerated some awful things and believed some unfathomable lies. That world unraveled as the view of my role as mother and protector of my unborn child etched onto my heart. It was as if I had been lost inside myself for several months…fading away…and the baby gave me a reason to reclaim myself. By the time I left my sister’s in Alabama for my parents in Arizona, I had ended the relationship with my boyfriend. In his defense, he did not walk away quietly, but not for any heroic or paternal reasons. And the more he persisted, the more I resisted.
My world was nothing dramatic as I settled in my parent’s condo. I did not have any big plans or even any grand ideas of what would happen next. At home, no one pushed, urged, or strongly encouraged me to do much of anything. I have no idea what was even going through my parent’s minds because they never told me. We never spoke about the future or even about the baby. They worked all day and I just sort of existed, hung out, watched TV, etc. Oddly enough, even at three (3) months gestation, I still had not seen an OB.
Back in my old room, in the extremely uncomfortable cheap bed, which had replaced my waterbed (now in storage) when, I had moved out about eight (8) months prior, I began praying every night. It did not take me long to see that this pregnancy was a gift from God. I did not understand it all. It made no sense why God would even want to rescue me while I wallowed in sin; defying everything, I knew. And I certainly could not explain how God would give me a gift through the sins I had committed.
One morning in November 1991, I was waking up to yet another day of my pregnant existence. Though I was yet unaware, today was a pivotal day. Today would change everything in my life.
There in the quiet of my room, barely a thought running through my head yet, I heard it. I know it was real and afterwards I heard others describe it in the exact same words. I heard the inaudible voice of God.
With love and gentleness, God spoke to me. He told me to pick up one of the phonebooks lying bedside my bed to find an adoption agency.
Had I doubted for one minute that it was God speaking, I would not have done it. However, there was something so undeniable about Him speaking that I did not hesitate even one second to do as He was instructing me. One thing I knew for sure, my mind had never entertained adoption.
Many times, I had envisioned God as intolerant and impatient. That day, that pivotal day, my view of God changed. He did not tap His foot impatiently as I flipped through the adoption agency ads…repeatedly. Instead, He lovingly waited for me to decide which number to dial.
I do not remember the exact day this took place, nor do not remember the exact words spoken between the adoption counselor and myself on the phone. What I do remember is God filling me with His peace from that day forward.
Unplanned Pregnancy – Part Two
