I found out when I was six weeks along. Around the same time I got pregnant I was involved in a fatality accident, which was deemed not my fault. But due to the accident I was heavily medicated on psychotropic drugs. Once the doctor confirmed me I was pregnant I was immediately taken off the medication. Right away my parents said they wouldn’t be able to help me and I should consider adoption.
I felt rejected and judged by my parents and well as them rejecting my baby. The birthfather pushed for an abortion. So I was all alone and everyone had an opinion of what I should do. My parents found a home that took pregnant girls. So I applied for the home and was accepted with in two weeks. I had morning, noon and evening sickness, nothing settled my stomach. I was depressed and all alone even though I was surrounded by many. I started going to the CPC to get counseling and advice, they talked to me about adoption. Throughout that whole summer I was numb. When I arrived at Mercy Ministry they were the first to ask what I wanted to do, not giving their opinion of what I should do. I told them I was unsure, so they suggested to pray about and when I am ready let them know.
In August I arrived at Mercy. Every morning I started out praying about what I should do. I didn’t want to do adoption, so I started to figure out in my head how it could work out to keep him. I would get so stressed out I couldn’t breathe. And at 4 months they put in high risk due to my history with the wreck and medication.
After months of praying, I felt at peace with choosing adoption. The director of Mercy had me make a list in what I expected as the ideal parents I wanted for my child. I had a page and half list of requests for the “perfect parents.” I went through 100 profiles that had similar things on my list, and I keep coming back to this one couple. In November they were informed that I had chosen them. Only a week before they had gotten a call to adopt a little girl. I asked them if they desired to adopt both. Sarah and Trent’s due dates ended up being a week apart, and they were both 2 weeks late, and born 10 days apart.
My due date was Jan 21, but when that date finally came I was no where close to going into labor. Two weeks has passed. I had an appointment schedule and when they did the stress test and saw that there was very little fluid, so they admitted me and started the labor process. 18 hours later, nothing happened. He was finally born at 10:00 pm, I was in labor for a total of 32 hours. My mom was able to be in the labor room with me for support. After I delivered I looked up and saw him, they cleaned him up, and my mom brought him to me, and I got to kiss him on the forehead and then I passed out. I asked the nurse to see my baby, they said they had to wait for my fever to go down. I went to the nursery to look at him. I finally got him in my room, but I felt like I was being watched. The social worker of the hospital came to my room and informed me that it might be better for me to not have him in the room with me, that I would cause it to be too hard on me. I told her it was my time with him as mine and I will take it.
I was released on Monday so was my son into foster care hands. I woke up that morning and couldn’t stop crying, I was terrified saying I can’t do this, but couldn’t do this to the Smiths either. I seemed impossible to let go, my heart started aching, I cried out to God and begged for strength, then all of a sudden I stopped crying and was able to start getting ready. I final met the Smiths for the first time in person when they walked in with Trenton. I started praying again asking God for strength, and God started ease the pain and filling me with peace. That same day I had a ceremony scheduled with the pastor of the church for a dedication of my son. They changed his name and we dedicated him to the Lord, and then prayed over me, the Smiths and Trenton. After the service we went to eat and had numerous people came up to us saying they never seen a baby look so much like their father. We all just looked at each other and smiled. I thought as God gave me a sign of this was right.
I proceeded to go on with my life, but cried often. The pain was real, and I didn’t see an end at that time. I still received pictures and letters monthly. Before he was a year old, they surprised me by calling me, and I got to hear him laugh. It was heaven. I started to pray to God that I could see him as a baby and see him before he turned two. I got to go the weekend before he turned two. The time finally came and I was a bundle of nerves, that day I got there with my parents, he ran and jumped into my arms and was so friendly and loving. We had a great visit. At the end of the visit, we were having dinner and my son looked at me and said he had a happy heart.
This started a pattern where I got to visit once a year for a weekend or so. When he got older, he started swimming, so I got to see some swim meets, then he was a tween, I then got to see him play basketball, and hear him tell his friend I was his mother. Every trip I was a bundle of nerves, but wouldn’t trade it for the world. When he was young he acted like he wasn’t sure of me, he would watch me, but wouldn’t get too close. Trenton grew up knowing he was adopted, so he knew I was his birthmother, but to what understanding I was not sure he had. It wasn’t until he was 15 that he really opened up and wanted to be around me. I asked if he understands that I didn’t place him for adoption because I didn’t want him, but because I wanted him to have the best life possible, what he deserved. He said thank you, you did give me the best life. And that he loved me.
Fifteen years later I think often what it would be like if he was with me but I have never had a regret. It was never easy, and still isn’t. I know God is in control and my son is happy, healthy, extremely intelligent and has had so many opportunities that I would of never been able to give him, so it was the right choice, painful but right.