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I sat on the floor of the shower trying to muffle the noise of my sobs. I wanted to crawl inside myself, run, hide, disappear. I had never felt so lonely or confused. I wanted my boyfriend to be supportive. I wanted him to be the man he didn’t yet know how to be. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he told me to have an abortion, and my mind raced to justify the procedure. Perhaps my child would be better off dead than in a broken family with parents who didn’t even love each other. I decided that abortion could be the answer to my problem. Then I tried to convince myself that my child wasn’t really a baby, he was just tissue. I told myself lie after lie until I finally made the appointment.
But no matter how hard I tried to fool myself, I knew I carried a baby. I knew, deep down, that if I were to take my baby’s life, I would forever regret it. I didn’t show up for the appointment. I began to see my baby as a gift, and realized it was my duty as a mother to protect my child’s best interest and give him all that I could. Out of love for my child, I began to look at adoption.
Many relatives didn’t understand why I was even thinking about adoption. Who in the world would give up their child? Me...that’s who. Of course I wanted to be the one to watch him grow. But beyond my wants, I realized that my child deserved more. My child deserved a stable, loving mother and father.
Although my boyfriend was not overly thrilled about adoption, he was willing to interview several different couples with me. The couple we chose was married, deeply in love, and welcomed our child as their own. Their love for my child is divine.
The birth father, my family, and friends came to congratulate my decision and understand that it was out of pure love. I thank God I don’t have to visit the memory of an aborted baby, the grave of an innocent life. Yes, I grieve the loss of my child and it’s hard, but the joy far exceeds the sorrow. I rejoice in all he has gained!
Through pictures and letters full of heartfelt thanks, I hear the laughter of a living, breathing son with loving parents. I can live with my decision...and so can my son.
With no regrets,
