Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.
At the age of 15, I became pregnant and chose life and adoption to give my son the life I never had and the family he deserved.
Even before I was pregnant, I knew that adoption was an act of love and found it fascinating how someone could become a parent because of the selfless act of someone else. After finding out I was pregnant and realizing I could not parent my child in my situation even if I wanted to, I decided to make the most out of the situation.
My whole world was collapsing. The cocky young girl that thought she was invincible was gone.
My religion looked down on pregnancy out of wedlock. And I knew what I had to do even in the midst of despair. I knew I could never offer my son what was rightfully his, a life full of opportunities. A home where both mom and dad wanted him.
My parents never supported my decision, because in my culture that is considered child abandonment. You never leave one of your kind behind. But I went ahead with the adoption process and stuck to it even though the father and half of my family didn’t support it. I knew it in my heart it had to be this way.
The day of the adoption came. I found myself holding my baby, filled with confusion, indecision, and doubting myself — about to sign all my rights away to someone I hardly knew but who wanted a son so desperately. I had to step back and pray, because I could not physically sign the papers in the state of confusion and despair I was in.
I gave my baby to my sister and walked to another room.
Praying was hard. The voices in my head were so loud I could not get a sentence out. But I persisted, and finally… there was peace in my soul. I knew right then and there this was going to change lives — not only mine but the adoptive parents’… and most importantly, my son’s life.
I went ahead and signed the papers without hesitation. I kissed my baby boy one last time, and walked to the adoptive mother and father anxiously awaiting their son. As I passed my baby to her, I could see and feel the joy in her as tears ran down her cheeks and she trembled ecstatically. Then, just as she said, “He’s just like in my dreams!” my world collapsed.
The evident contrast of pain and joy was in that room. The pain of loss for one mother and the joy of another.
Just like in life, there is an opposite to everything. We must experience both pain and joy in life to know what real happiness is.
For years, letters and pictures held this hole in my chest ever so present. And I watched him grow away from me, but was happy of the decision to choose to give him more.
A month ago — almost 21 years later — I decided to reach out to him, and to my surprise he wanted to meet me. He wanted to know more about me, to learn about this part of him he knew about, but truly had no idea about.
This past weekend, I met him at the airport and was able to hug him, kiss him, and caress his hair… just like I did 21 years ago. Time had passed by, but my love had never diminished. I was whole again! We talked for hours!
He thanked me for the life I gave him and for the sacrifice I made so he could be the man he is today. Words cannot describe the joy I felt being around him and reconnecting with him.
There is love and only love when you choose life and adoption. There’s the opportunity for lifelong bonds and relationships. “Ends are not bad things, they just mean that something else is about to begin.“ Mine has just begun!
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