was around three in the morning on March 13,1991 and I was in a hospital
gown sitting in the emergency room. I had gone in earlier not
knowing the difficult path which was to be presented to me later. I can barely remember the doctor's words or how he said it but I do remember
feeling suddenly desperate, scared and very young. I was nineteen and I was just told I was to be a mom. I remember my boyfriend, nineteen
and soon to be a dad in nine months, holding me while I cried and shuttered through the intense wave of emotions. The next few days were a
blur, I only remember bits and pieces, mostly the thoughts...why me? Who can I turn too? My parents are going to kill me. But there was one
thing I knew from the start even though I had dark moments and forgot that thought, but I knew I was going to place this child up for adoption.
In my heart I knew that was going to be the best thing for both of us. And as the months went by things in my life started to change. My family
supported me as best they could but my mother thought it would be in the best interest in the family that no one outside of my immediate family
would know I was pregnant. She believed that it was no one else's business what troubles we were going through. My relationship with my
boyfriend deteriorated and finally ended. I almost got to the point where I didn't know what to do or who I could turn to to talk and confide in.
But I still held onto the idea I was placing this child for adoption. I made the decision early on in my pregnancy to one, get health care and two,
get counseling. I went through an agency for my adoption. The same agency I was adopted from. I felt comfortable there knowing that this is
where my birthmother came and faced the same decision I was now facing. I learned a lot about myself in those eight months of pregnancy. I
learned how to be strong and lean on myself as well as others in my time of need. In my seventh month of pregnancy I moved into a home for
unwed mothers, teens and adults. Now you might say this sounds like what they did back in the 50's but it was much more than that. At the
center, as I call it, I found friendship and support that I needed and I am grateful for the experiences that I gained there. I went through a closed
adoption because I knew for myself it would be too hard to be a part of my child's life watching him grow up and not being able to be his mother.
So I received several backgrounds of families and out of my first three I found the perfect family for my son. They were as close to my family as
possible without being my family if you know what I mean. When my son was born he was mine for six days, cause by law I had 72 hours which
ended up to be the week-end so he wasn't placed until the following Monday after he was born. I remember my hand shaking that day as I
signed the relinquishment papers. I remember feeling nervous, happy, and sad all at once. But there were several things that allowed me to feel
comfortable with my decision. I remember the phone call I got from my social worker when my son's parents came to pick him up from the
agency. I remember one statement clearly......."They both came in and just stared at him, smiling nervously. Finally, their case worker asked if
they would like to pick him up, his mom looked at her and said 'Can we?' The worker laughed and his mom made her way over and slowly picked
him up cuddling him in her arms." That brought a smile to my face. The last thing that confirmed my decision was one of the pictures I received.
it was his one month picture. He was in front of the Christmas tree, clothed in a red and white stripped outfit. Next to him was his dog wearing a
Santa hat. The first thing my mom said was "gee I had to look at that picture twice almost thought it was your brother, he had a similar if not
exactly the same outfit." Also the dog was an exact match of the dog that I grew up with. These things made me feel good and reassured me
that my son was in a good home. Its been six years now and I still feel proud as ever. I believe that placing my son for adoption was the greatest
accomplishment I have achieved.
A Smile and A Tear
On November 13, 1991, in a small birthing room of a large city hospital,
a young, scared 20 year old woman, sweated and
my son wishes to find me when he turns 18, I welcome him to do so and if
not that is fine too. For I know is is happy and receiving all that I
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