As this is my very first blog post, I should tell you why I am writing.
I am a Natural Mother. I gave my daughter up to adoption.
A choice I regret every moment of every day.
Before I begin my story, I must say that I do not like being called birthmother or B.Mo (I’ll get to that story later). I prefer either First mother or Natural mother.
I’m writing to express my feelings on how this adoption experience has been for me.
I am not seeing a therapist at this time because the last one just kept telling me to "move on". I plan on starting again, but for now I see writing as one way to help me feel better.
I don't plan for all my blog posts to be about adoption. Some will have entries on my daughter, family or just things I feel like writing about.
I am not going to be writing regularly.
I’m a full time student in college, and I work part-time at a restaurant. I have a lot of outside responsibilities. I will try to post more during school holidays.
So, with that out of the way, let me tell you my story through my eyes.
When I learned I was pregnant, like every soon-to be mom, I was scared. More so of what my family thought as I was only 19 years old, had just graduated high school, was due to start college and living on my own for the first time. I was doing what I thought my parents wanted and approved. However, getting pregnant at 19, I knew, was going to disappoint my parents.
I think I was more disappointed in myself, but now I know Olivia was never a mistake. She was an unplanned blessing, and I will never regret having her. She was sent here for a reason, but at the time, I felt that getting pregnant was a “punishment” because I did not practice safe sex.
The first questions of "Are you pregnant?" came from my mom. I had not had my monthly. Although I did not see that as a problem , as I had always skipped a monthly atleast once almost every year.
The real signs showed up when I ate a whole jar of pickles and almost a whole bag of candy. The next day, I got sick. I thought it was because all that junk, but my mom told me take a pregnancy test. I did.
I took 3 of them. Guess what?
All 3 said "pregnant". I decided they were wrong, and I went on with my life.
That was in July 2009.
At the time, I worked at a restaurant. I was working on a day that is celebrated every year in September in the little town where we lived called "Cruise Nite". This is a night where people from miles around bring their classic cars and "cruise" up and down the main street in town. If they aren't cruising, they are sitting in their lawn chairs on the side of the road watching. It's a BUSY day and night for that little farming community. THIS is the night the news spread.
My family was in Tennessee with my grandparents (my dad's parents) to see a football game. I could not attend, but I said I would house sit while they were away.
On the day of Cruise Nite, I had to work a double shift. Not even five minutes into my shift, this lady asked if I was ok.
Next thing I know, I'm in my manager's office, dizzy and confused.
Everyone said that I passed out. I am still confused about what happened. They called an ambulance, and I was on my way to the hospital.
My manager called my parents and made them aware of the situation. They believed that it may have been because I was suffering from dehydration and a stomach virus, but when the test results came in, it surely was not that.
"Pregnant" the nurses said. I tried to hold my hand over the phone so my father, who was on the line, couldn't hear what they were saying, (He did hear them), and I threw all of the papers they gave me in the trash on the way out of the emergency room.
Today, I really do not understand why I behaved the way I did, but I do regret my denial.
So, that's how the news that a baby was on the way started my journey of a lifetime.