In May of 2015, I graduated from South Dakota State University, full of ambition and ready to take on the world. However, I was broke, so I moved home to save money. I spent my summer working and reconnecting with old friends.

I started seeing a guy I had known for a few years. It wasn't a serious relationship, just a summer fling that I knew would never last. I liked him a lot, but just as I expected, by the time the summer started to fade away, so did we. It was September, and something wasn't right. I was late, and I was terrified. I took two pregnancy tests on the floor of my bathroom, and sure enough, I was pregnant. It didn't feel real. I didn't even cry. My life was about to change, but I couldn't believe it because I was numb.

I went to his apartment and we discussed it. Inconveniently, he had already moved on to someone else. There was no time for a baby. No money. We didn't love each other. There was nothing more to say about it. I was backed into a corner, and it felt as though there was no way out. I was ready to move on from this heartbreak, so we agreed on abortion. He drove me to my abortion appointment before the sun was up. The numbness I had felt since I took the test was wearing off. No one knew it, but I was sad. I was fighting a battle in my head. Finally, they called my name and took me back to the room. I changed into a faded gown and sat on the cold metal table and just cried. I talked to God. I asked Him for protection. I was devastated. I then realized that making a choice out of fear and pressure is really no choice at all.

Leading up to my daughter’s birth, I was so nervous. I knew placing her for adoption was the right decision for me and for my baby. I also knew it was going to be very difficult, physically and emotionally.

I was terrified as I thought about going through the labor and delivery. As a petite 16-year-old, I worried that my body wouldn’t be able to handle it and I was afraid of how much physical pain I would be in. As my due date drew closer, my doctor realized I had pre-eclampsia and explained how my baby was under a lot of stress. After hearing this, I no longer cared how much pain I would be in. I was only worried about her and was very anxious to have her delivered so she would be safe.

I have been a birth mom for 21 years and navigating what that journey looks like ever since.

For a season, I didn’t share my journey, it was mine, and honestly, it was very personal. I didn’t want to invite anyone else into it; kind of like a kid with candy! I wanted to keep all the good stuff for myself.

Meet Angela! She's a long time friend of BraveLove's and one of our newest contributors to the Being A Birth Mom column...

Hello! My name is Angela and birth mom is just one of the titles I hold, but it is one of them I cherish the most. I placed my daughter for adoption in 1996 when I was just 17 years old.

I was pregnant at 19 years old, freshman in college, scared, nervous, and alone. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until 7 months along, leaving 2 months to figure out the fate of this child. 

I was far from ready to be a parent; I still had college to finish, career goals to achieve, and places to travel. 

I didn’t have the money to raise a child. I begged the biological father to consider adoption because he wanted to keep this child, even though his life was very unstable and we were not together. I spent every other day calling him, listing reasons why adoption was the right choice. I wanted this baby to have two married parents, good educations, and good careers, raise him with good values/morals, and experience everything life can offer him.

I put my own feelings aside and only thought about what was best for my child in that moment. I hand-selected these amazing, loving, and caring adoptive couple to become his parents through a local adoption agency. The minute that I met them in person, I could feel their joy to be parents, and ultimately felt how much love they would provide for this child. I told myself there was no turning back on my decision.

Warning: The content of this story contains very sensitive subjects and potentially distressing material about the effects of depression. 

As a birth mom, I feel a special love for my daughter's mother. My special relationship with the mother of my child started three months before her daughter was born.

I was one of those that didn't know they were pregnant until at the beginning of the third trimester. For many reasons, I decided to place my daughter in a loving home. I went to the agency and went through so many profiles, and there was only one that stood out. That was my daughter's mother.

When she found out that I chose her, we talked every night for hours. This only solidified that she was the one. When our daughter was born it was her that held her first. She was the one that said it was ok to be called mom but I insisted that I be called Ma Mare (French for mother). My daughter's mother is amazing. Because of her, I got to spend our daughter's first birthday together and her second Easter.

I was completely heartbroken to find out that I was expecting again.

At the time my then husband and I were renting one bedroom from a family along with our 3-month-old baby and my two toddlers. We carefully considered all of our options, and I knew that this precious child needed me to choose adoption.

Halfway through the pregnancy doctors discovered a birth defect called Spina Bifida. I was devastated. My specialist made it very clear it wasn’t too late to reconsider my “options,” but I was confident that God had a plan for her LIFE. So I continued the adoption process.

At 39 weeks along, I went to the hospital in an ambulance for an emergency C-section. I heard her first cry. I asked if she was okay, and the doctors said yes! After two days, I left the hospital to get back to my small children who were waiting for me to get home. Four days later I decided to meet her. I was scared that if I held her I would never let go, but I found more strength and faith that I never knew I had.

At 15, I found myself 4 months pregnant. I was lost, ashamed, terrified and absolutely in love with the life growing inside me. 

When we told my half brother, he mentioned his aunt had been trying to have a baby but couldn’t. I delivered a healthy boy with the help of my new auntie. We became a large extended family the day I placed her son in her arms and that has continued to grow. 

The past almost 18 years have been a roller coaster of emotions, sadness and pride, emptiness and joy… you name it I have felt it. Last year my son started opening up to me about the adoption, I was terrified but empowered. My baby was reaching out and it took everything in me to open up to him.

It has been a long journey that is about to get more complicated, but I have learned to look back with pride and peace. I put everything in me aside to make the best decision for him, I gave my son something I couldn’t give him - a family! And let me tell you he is one amazing boy. We are all proud of our boy!

January of 2017 I found out that I was pregnant. I'd like to say that I was shocked, but in reality, I wasn't. I had never intended on getting pregnant, but I was never very cautious about preventing it. But like most of us birth mothers out there, I was terrified. I was in no position to raise a child. When I told the father, he begged me to get an abortion. I knew it was wrong, and for months I tried to figure out a way I would be able to parent my baby. 

I was only 15 when I found out I was pregnant. My mom went to the doctor with me.  My mom & dad are both deceased now.  Unfortunately, I never asked how they felt, but I do remember my father crying when he heard the news.  It broke my heart since that was the first time I had seen him cry.  I think I was so young.

It didn’t really register until I started showing. I got pregnant in June after my freshman year of HS I began my sophomore year but left around Halloween (about 5 months pregnant).  Some friends deserted me, a few stayed my friend through it all.