Karen's Adoption Story
I found out that I was pregnant when I was 23 weeks along. I had been on birth control. My doctor told me that pregnancy symptoms were common among those taking the birth control. I was a 22-year-old single mother with a 2-year-old son. I couldn't emotionally or financially support another child on my own. I struggled with making the decision about adoption. I just couldn't imagine giving away my child. Especially being so close to my son, I knew the amount of happiness I would be missing out on if I gave up a child. After a long debate with myself, I realized that if I did decide to keep the baby, I would be too overwhelmed to be of any use to either of my children.
When I picked out the adoptive parents, I knew they were perfect. They encompassed everything that I would want for my child. I couldn't imagine anyone else raising my child. When the idea of conference calls was brought up, I was reluctant at first but finally decided to give it a try.
The conference calls were great. We were nervous, but after a few minutes, we were able to talk as if we had known each other forever. It really helped to confirm my feelings on picking them as the parents. The more we talked, the more excited I became about being able to give them such an amazing gift. Thinking about that helped me to ease my apprehension about giving up my child for adoption.
I had hoped that the adoptive parents would have been able to attend my daughter's birth, but unfortunately my labor went too fast for them to make it in time. Before they arrived at the hospital, I was able to spend several hours with my daughter alone. I thought that spending the time with her would only make handing her over harder, but it actually helped me. I was able to talk to her, to tell her how much I loved her and say my own goodbye.
When the parents finally arrived, I was overwhelmed to finally meet them. I was happy to see the way their faces lit up with love the second they saw the baby. I handed them the baby, and we spent the next day and a half talking and getting to know each other. They were able to meet my parents and my son. I was even able to speak to one of their close friends on the phone. The adoptive mother spent the night in my room so that we could both be with the baby. We stayed up all night talking, taking turns rocking and feeding her. They were completely respectful of my feelings and my time with the baby.
When it came time to sign the papers everyone but the lawyer left my room. Signing the papers was much more difficult then I had expected. As I started signing my name I was crying. The reality of the situation had finally hit me. When the papers were signed, I had a few minutes before saying goodbye to everyone. When the adoptive parents came back with the baby, it was an awkward situation. Everyone had been dreading this moment. There were a lot of tears while we said goodbye to each other. I wasn't able to say a last goodbye to my daughter, though. I was afraid if I picked her up or even went near her, I wouldn't be able to give her up anymore. It was heartbreaking. There just weren't any words to say goodbye to her.
When everyone left my room I had never felt so alone in my life. I sat there and cried until my mother came to bring me home from the hospital. I felt completely empty. It was like my entire world had just crashed around me. It felt like my heart was literally breaking. I couldn't believe that everything was over. It all seemed to happen in a whirlwind around me.
The next few days were excruciatingly hard for me. There wasn't a moment that went by where I wasn't second-guessing myself. I was crying almost constantly. It was unbelievable how much I missed my daughter. I thought I had been prepared for everything. I knew that I wasn't going to be keeping her, and I thought that would have made it easier. It didn't. I spent a lot of time wondering if my daughter was missing me and wondering where I was, or if she was scared and confused. I felt like I was a horrible person for being able to give up my child. I hated myself. At the time it felt like a completely heartless thing to do. I was angry. I didn''t understand how God could allow this happen to me. I was angry at everyone around me for not trying to help me. However, I was mostly angry at myself. I had allowed this to happen. I felt like everything was my fault.
When my life started to get back to normal again, I was able to start realizing that I wasn't a horrible person. I was a good person who had made some mistakes and did the right thing for everyone. I still would find myself crying for no reason in grocery stores or playing with my son, but it wasn't quite as constant. There was still pain, but it wasn't the most prominent thing in my life. As time goes on, it gets easier. I just had to focus on the good things in my life — and everything I had to look forward to. I receive pictures of my daughter, which are hard to see sometimes, but it's wonderful to get a glimpse into her life. It's reassuring to see that she's happy and healthy. It reminds me that I did the right thing.
The one thing that I didn't expect at all was how this brought out a lot of other losses that I had suffered. It seemed to spark up a lot of feelings that I thought I had worked through. My father died three years prior, and it felt like it was happening all over again.
The thing that helped me through everything the most was calling my close friends and talking about it with them. My two best friends are adopted themselves, and they were able to give me a whole different viewpoint on my situation. They were able to calm a lot of my fears about what my daughter might feel towards me and how she might feel about being adopted. They helped me realize that my feelings were okay and that what I did was a selfless act — and it in no way made me a bad person for not being able to care for my daughter myself.
I know for the rest of my life I will always think about my daughter. I look forward to receiving pictures and letters. I hope one day I'll be able to reunite with my daughter and her parents.
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