To My Beautiful Girl,

Almost 22 years ago, I fell in love with you, and the love has never waivered. When I found out that I was pregnant with you, my first thought was pure joy. I had always wanted to be a mother, and I saw you as nothing but a gift. I wasn’t a teenager, and I had a loving family. Unfortunately, circumstances changed for me. I come from a very old fashioned, Southern family, and they were embarrassed by the fact that I was pregnant and not married. Also, the times were different 20 something years ago, and I lost my job because of my pregnancy. Your birth father took himself out of the picture very early on, and I was totally alone. Deciding to place you for adoption was the hardest decision I have ever had to make, but it was the best one for you.

Early in my pregnancy, I loaded up my car, and drove to Ft. Worth. I made dear friends, and delighted in every moment of my pregnancy with you. I cherished every kick and wiggle you made, and I couldn’t wait until the moment when I would finally see your precious little face. At that time, all of the adoptions were private. Birth mothers and adopted families didn’t know one another. At the time, it was what I wanted. I was afraid that if I knew exactly where you were, the pain would have been too much. Now, with some years behind me, I wish things had been different.

We did have the option of choosing the type of family we wanted our child to go to, however, and I was known as being extremely picky. I had more conditions than probably any other young woman there, perhaps because I was older. I even asked my counselor if I was being to choosy, and she told me that I wasn’t; I was simply trying to find the best parents possible. They were able to match everything I asked for, and I was at peace with your placement.

After your birth, I was allowed to see you twice; once through the window of the nursery and once for a private visit where I was able to hold you, cuddle you, kiss you. You were the most beautiful baby I had every seen, and I fell in even more than I thought humanly possible. I talked to you the whole time, telling you over and over how much I loved you. I sang all the lullabies I had planned on singing to you as you grew, and I cried my heart out over the thought of handing you over and never seeing you again. But despite the sadness, I knew that I was doing the right thing. I knew that I was handing you over to a couple who would love you just as much as I did, and who would be so much better at meeting your needs than I would.

You will be 22 on your birthday. You are a grown woman now, and I still love you as much as I did the day I said goodbye to you. There is never a day that I don’t pray for you. There is never a day when I don’t think of you. And there is never a day when I regret the decision I made for both of us. I hope you can understand that. I wish you joy and happiness for the rest of your life.

Love, Kim