A Loving Option ...

"The test results are back and you're definitely pregnant." The words hit like bullets from a firing squad. I stumbled to the front entrance of the health center and sank into a chair for over an hour unable to think, my mind was numb. Back in the dorm, I fell on my bed and cried till I could cry no more.

The next day I considered alternatives. Abortion seemed to be the simplest solution. I wouldn't have to tell my family, friends or teachers. I could continue school with no interruption. It sounded so good, especially the part about not having to tell my parents. I hated the idea of letting them down when they had always placed so much trust in me.

But something tugged at me and would not ease up. I was pregnant and that meant "with child." That night in bed I visualized a young man yelling at me, saying, "I never got a chance to live, you never gave me the chance!" I knew then that abortion was not the solution. What seemed easiest for the short term is not necessarily easiest in the long run.

Adoption seemed too painful to consider. How could I give up a child after carrying it for nine months? I kept telling myself I couldn't do it. I wouldn't know my child or watch it grow. Strangers would raise my baby.

When I went to a social service agency, the counselor seemed to understand my turmoil and told me about adoption. The lives and homes of adoptive parents are thoroughly examined by trained professionals. The home study was more rigorous and comprehensive than any examination I ever faced at school. This gave me confidence to trust someone else to raise my child. Many adoptive parents have tried and failed to have their own children for years and they still have a strong desire to be parents. This helped me to feel comfortable in knowing that my child would be loved, accepted and truly wanted even though I might not be able to raise him.

Being pregnant and unmarried wasn't easy. No one needed to tell me how much courage it took to carry a baby and then give it to someone else.

I saw my baby boy when he was two days old. He was beautiful and showed me how strong his lungs were by crying lustily as I held him. As I talked to him he quieted and began to study my face. I know he recognized my voice. It brought the tears, knowing he would never be able to recognize the voice he heard in utero because I would not be there for him. I cried, I prayed and trusted that God would make sure his new mommy's voice would soothe him, too.

Four days after delivery I signed papers forever relinquishing my rights as a parent. I can't put into words the sadness I felt. My parents and friends helped and the agency allowed me to send a gift to my baby. I had saved for months to buy a beautiful, gold watch for my boy. "I love you" is inscribed on the back. I wanted him to know that he was given up out of love.

The years have passed and I don't know that I'll ever meet the baby I gave birth to. I already have a picture in my mind of a young man hugging me and saying, "Thanks Mom, for giving me a chance."

A Hard Case: Rape

After burying my painful secret for nearly 30 years, I pray that my story might be the reason for one innocent baby having a chance of life, our most precious gift from God.

When I was 20 years old, I was raped by a man with whom I went out only one time.

The next morning I told my mother what I had experienced. Although it was a Sunday morning, the doctor met us at his office to examine me. His words were, "I'd call it rape all right and I think you should prosecute."

I prayed constantly that I would not be pregnant. I was. Being unable to cope with the consequences of the small town gossip I left the area to await the birth of my baby. Although it was the most difficult time of my life, I never considered abortion, and I drew very close to God.

A little more than a year ago, I received a phone call from the son I had never seen. On the day he came to see me he thanked me three times, with tears in his eyes, for letting him live.

Dear Little One,

Sometimes I think I'd like to go public with my story of being a birth mother, to tell what it means to permanently entrust my child to the care of others. Would it make any difference in the abortion debate? I don't know. But I do know that when I was all alone, pregnant, scared to death, and in desperate need of tender and compassionate unconditional love, people were "put" into my life to meet those needs.

I didn't want to ever tell you this, sweetie, but one of the first things the doctor told me after "the test is positive" was "this can be taken care of." Pretty presumptuous, I'd say, to assume that a woman (unmarried) would automatically want to have her child destroyed.

Funny thing, some of my "worst" qualities, stubbornness and selfishness, kept me from considering an abortion. Instead, I set myself the task of full responsibility for my irresponsible action. I learned the best way (the hard way!) to accept "misfortune" and how to grow up. It certainly wasn't easy, was it, little one? But then, love never is easy.

I must close before I "write a book," but my heart overflows with things to say to you. I must be content to say, "I love you," and "please give my love to your parents."

Your Birthmother

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