At the young age of 17, I discovered around 3 months along, that I was pregnant.
I was a senior in high school, a 3-sport athlete, in the marching band, and doing all the "things" teens love to do. I am also adopted, and I had the best upbringing a child could desire. I knew the moment that I discovered I was pregnant, that I was not ready to become a mom. She deserved a committed, loving, and stable home.
So, although I hid my pregnancy for several more months, my decision to place her remained steadfast.
As I told my parents, teachers and support circle, my decision never waivered. Did I hear, "how could you give up your flesh and blood?" or "Blood is thicker than water?" Yes, many times. The aftermath after a closed adoption was difficult.
It was a long, painful journey, and I still feel all the emotions associated with that. It's a healing process, but never one that just goes away.
She is 35 now, and she found me when she was 18, so we are in reunion. I am also a birth grandma and helped my cousin go through her placement of her daughter as well.
