As a child, I thought the highlights of moving away from home would be my first apartment, cute college guys, and fun with friends. Instead, the highlight of my first year of college was sitting on the edge of a bathtub in the bathroom of a man seven years my senior, staring at a positive pregnancy test. I didn’t know what to do–I was seventeen and broke, far from ready to be a mom.
I loved my little baby. As young and unprepared as I was, I was still excited every time I felt the little life I made flutter and kick inside me. I loved her so much that I didn’t care when people stared at me and whispered about where the father might be. I wanted to be her mama with all my heart.
But that didn’t change the fact that her dad wasn’t around to help care for her. It didn’t change the fact that I was still a child myself. The desire to be a mother didn’t give me the money or maturity or time I would need to give her the best life I could.
So I had a decision to make. During my pregnancy I made a long list of all the reasons I wanted to parent my daughter. I wanted to be her best friend, to dress up in matching outfits, to tuck her in every night. I wanted to be there every day to watch my little love grow up.
And then I made a list of all the reasons to choose adoption. She would grow up with two parents who were in love and stable. She would never have to worry about whether she would eat or not. She’d have a mommy who could stay home with her full-time and give her all the attention she needed.
Finally, a list of reasons why I might abort. No one would have to know. I wouldn’t have to deal with being pregnancy at 17. If I couldn’t parent, why should I ruin my body just so someone else could be a parent? Why should I deal with all the judgement?
The more I looked at my lists, the more I realized–the adoption list was the only one that truly benefited her. The other two were mostly about me and what I wanted. But it was my responsibility as a mother to do what was right for HER.
And so I found her a beautiful family. It broke my heart to place her after my pregnancy, but it would have broken my heart more to watch her torn between her parents in a custody battle, and even more to have never had the chance to give her life, to see her little smile and kiss her little cheeks. For me, adoption wasn’t easy–but it was worth it.
Now I see my birth daughter every few months, and I get pictures every week. She is thriving and happy with her life, and I am with mine. I’m going to school and living life, knowing that she is safe and cared for. Adoption was by far the best choice for the both of us.