This is a short story I wrote years ago, based on my experience as a unwed mother counselor. I was honored back in 1990 when it was published in the
National Right to Life Convention Handbook.
I hope you take the time to read it AND PASS IT ON. Perhaps we can open some minds and save some lives in the process.
A CHANCE
This is a true story, not mine, but rather it belongs to thousands of young women whose wisdom, courage and unselfishness deserve our respect and
admiration. To them “Thank You” doesn't come close to expressing the gratitude and love that I and so many others feel for you.
There is a reason for the crises and trials that force us to make tough decisions. These decisions will
not will not only affect the outcome of the crisis, but also will mould and shape our character.
How can I tell you this and expect you to understand the pain, fear, embarrassment and shame I experienced and also expect you to believe that it
was worth it? If someone gave you a choice, either accept an experience that would bring you much heartache or reject this experience and choose an
“easier” route that wouldn't disrupt your life, what choice would you make? This is the story of the most important decision, I'm sure I'll ever
have to make, why I made it and how I feel about it now.
“The test results are back and you're definitely pregnant.” The words hit like bullets from a firing squad. Until I had the test all sorts of
scenarios occurred to me about what would happen if I were pregnant, now just panic was all I felt. It were as if I had forgotten who I was, where I
was and I had no idea of what to do next. I stumbled to the front of the health center and sank into a chair. I sat for over an hour unable to think,
my mind was numb. I was in shock. After awhile I got up and went back to the dorm where I plopped down on my bed and cried until I could cry no
more.
The next day I began considering my alternatives, for me the options seemed so dismal. Initially, abortion seemed to be the simplest solution. I
wouldn't have to tell my family, friends or teachers. Life would be “back to normal” again. It sounded so good, especially the part about not
having to tell my parents. I hated the idea of letting them down when they had always placed so much trust in me, but something tugged at me and would
not ease up. I was pregnant and that meant “with child.”
In my consideration of abortion I had forgotten about the child. There was a living human being in there, not a puppy or cat to be “put to
sleep”, but a real, live person. How could I erase a person's existence? That night while lying in bed I visualized a young man yelling at me,
saying: “I never got a chance to live, you never gave me the chance!” After that, I knew abortion was not the solution. What seems easiest for the
short term is not necessarily easiest in the long run. I didn't want to feel guilty for the rest of my life knowing I had killed someone so my life
could continue on as planned.
Another possibility was keeping the child. Oh, how I would have loved to be a mother! Ever since playing with dolls as a child I had wanted to be
a parent. In my opinion motherhood was the most worthwhile thing I could do with my life. Unfortunately, I still relied on my parents for my support.
The child's father was no more able to raise a child than I. Marriage was practically unthinkable as we weren't ready and we both knew it. He had a
goal of becoming a lawyer at this time and marriage would be a major stumbling block for his career plans. I could ask my parents to help me raise the
child, but to my way of thinking that wouldn't be fair to them, me or the baby.
The third option - adoption, at first this was too painful to even consider. How could I give up a child after carrying it for nine months? For
the longest time I kept telling myself I couldn't do it, It would hurt too much, I wouldn't be able to know my child or watch it grow, and I would
have to trust strangers raise my baby. Everything I was thinking was negative.
At this point I went to a social service agency for counseling. The counselor seemed to understand my turmoil and gave me a few facts to think about
that helped lead me to accept the idea of adoption. The lives and homes of the prospective adoptive parents were throughly examined by trained
professionals. The home study they had to undertake was more rigorous and comprehensive than any examination I would ever face in school. This
knowledge helped me to feel more confident about trusting someone else to raise my child. Another consideration was that the adoptive parents cannot
be medically able to have children. Many couples have tried for years to become pregnant and have a strong desire to be parents. This helped me to
feel comfortable in knowing my child would be loved, accepted and truly wanted. I might not be able to raise my child, but at least I would be giving
him a chance.
Telling my parents wasn't easy. They were hurt, but made it clear they still loved me and respected my decision. Telling my friends was an
experience, too. Most were supportive and understanding. The father of the baby accepted the news and agreed to go along with my decision.
Being pregnant and unmarried wasn't easy. It seemed like many people would look at my tummy and them look for my wedding ring. It didn't bother
me much because I really believed I was doing the right thing. No one needed to tell me how much courage it took to carry a baby and then give it to
someone else.
Two days after my baby boy was born I saw him. He was beautiful and showed me how strong his lungs were by crying lustily as I held him. When I
talked to him he quieted and began to study my face. I'm sure he recognized my voice. It was this that brought me to tears, knowing he would never be
able to recognize the voice he heard in utero because because I would not be there for him. I cried, I prayed and I trusted that God would make sure
his new mommy's voice would soothe him, too.
Four days after delivery I signed papers forever relinquishing my rights as a parent. I can't put into words the sadness I felt. How could I go
on? My parents and friends helped a lot by keeping me busy. It was a time for physical, emotional and spiritual healing. The agency helped also. They
allowed me to give a gift to the adoptive parents for my baby. I never saw the adoptive parents. The adoption worker talked with me and then shared
with them the gift and my expression of love for them and for my baby.
I had saved for months to buy a beautiful, gold watch for my boy. I had: “I Love You” inscribed on the back of it. It was important for me to
know that he would know he was given up out of love. The adoptive parents promised to share my message and gift with him when he was old enough to
understand and appreciate it. The agency gave me a little background information on the new parents. I got a taste of their personalities, values and
lifestyle. The worker described the nursery to me. This helped to create a picture in my mind of the life my son was entering. I cried with joy when
the worker told me the couple's reaction upon seeing their new son.
continued
edit on 11/18/2013 by sad_eyed_lady because: (no reason given)