When I found at the age of 20 that I was facing an unplanned pregnancy, I thought the best thing to do in the situation was to marry the baby’s father even though he was unpredictable.
On one occasion, I was chased down the road because he thought that he had to be in control of every situation in my life. Another time, he searched for me until he found me at a cousin's house. The baby’s father would not stop until he persuaded me that being with him was the only way and the best way to raise this baby. So, I followed along with plans to move in together and even get married all the while knowing that it was wrong in my heart.
Thankfully, through a private meeting with just my mom and I, our pastor wisely suggested I quietly leave the state and stay with relatives to get away from my baby’s father.
My mom secretly made plans for me to leave; we were not sure if it would be short term or for the duration of my pregnancy. Early one spring morning, while it was still dark, we left our house and headed to the airport. With a round trip ticket in my hand, I boarded the plane by myself and cried as I left everything I’d ever known behind to keep my baby safe and sort out all that was happening. I knew that whatever I chose to do, keep my baby or place him with an adoptive family, my mom would support me and the decision I would make.
Let me just say that God already had the young couple picked that would become the adoptive parents. It is as though he brought everyone together in that one spot in California at that point in time just for me and the baby I was carrying.
Once in California, I soon made friends through church, helped with VBS, attended ladies Bible study, and soon learned of a couple that had been married seven years and waiting for a baby. I was still unsure if I was going to keep my baby or place him, so I attended a birthmother's support group and met with an adoption agency.
God always brought me back to the young couple from church. So, I began to make plans for them to be my baby’s parents. On several occasions, his soon to be adoptive mom came to doctors appointments with me as I was nearing the due date. The ladies in our church even gave her a baby shower that I was invited to attend before my baby’s arrival. We were able to do most of the adoptive paperwork before December which was a blessing, yet one thing I had to face was writing my baby's birth father's name, who at this point did not know where I was living. When I returned home at the end of that year, I learned that my baby’s father had gone to all my friends' houses, cousins and my aunt’s apartment to find me. On the afternoon of December 10, I woke up from an afternoon nap and was ready to deliver and went to the hospital. Thankfully, I was not alone. In the birthing room I was being supported by my cousin, my baby's adoptive mom, and a very special friend that I had met through Bible study. All of these ladies came to help and were such a blessing to me in the room that evening. There were also several friends pacing in the hall waiting for little Ben to arrive. The best part about signing the papers ahead of the delivery is that on the day of his birth all the remaining papers were in place for me to sign, and I could even put the name of my baby that his adoptive parents had picked for him right on the birth certificate. Up to this point the birth father refused to sign papers to release little Ben to his adoptive parents, yet in the summer of the following year, I finally received a letter from his mom, saying that he had signed and released my baby to his parents.
