Ten years

Ten years ago today I gave birth to a baby boy. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced, like a dream, but more truthful than any part of my life. I was able to give birth naturally and that gave me a sense of empowerment for everything I'd be moving forward with in life.

You see, I was 17 when I got pregnant. I'd known the father for a mere 5 weeks. I thought I was in love. He proposed to me, gave me a ring. I wanted to marry him, but somehow I knew that I never would. So I moved away, in with some old family friends I hadn't seen in 15 years.

I wanted my baby to have the best life possible.

I decided to place my baby for adoption. I read copious amounts of information about adoption. I read about adoption for infants, as children, from foster care, international adoption, interracial adoption, etc. I read a book about a birth mother and an adoptive mother, alternating chapters, each telling their painful story. I read about the role of each parent in a child's development. And eventually, I contacted LDS Social Services.

As my due date began approaching I received profiles of couples from my LDS social services counselor. It was easy for me to choose the couple I would place my baby with. I hardly noticed their biographical information, but was emotionally impressed by the letter they had written to the prospective birth mother of their child--it was so full of love, for me and for my baby.

I gave birth. I felt so whole, so pure, and so full of love. I held my baby as much as I could during that time spent in the hospital. He hardly slept but I didn't feel tired. I named him William Cade and called him Cade as his adoptive parents would do. I loved it when he looked at me, when he heard my voice. He was very big for a baby but seemed so small and precious to me. The time I spent with him feels like a hazy dream to me. I must have been in heaven the whole time.

I put him in the arms of my LDS Social services counselor 3 days after giving birth. I burst into tears as soon as the door closed.

I waited for the father to agree to sign adoption papers. Cade would stay with a foster-care family until the papers were signed and he could go to his adoptive family. But after 3 weeks I became worried and scared. I loved him intensely, and wanted the best for him. If adoption wouldn't work out, I wanted to be with him immediately. I picked him up from foster care and took him to stay with me again. This time I was incredibly emotional, terrified that I'd screwed up the beginning of what would be my life as a mother. And then, five days later the father agreed to sign adoption papers.

I met with the adoptive parents, said good-bye to my baby and drove back to my hometown. I wasn't sure what my plans were, but that I felt finished with something heartbreaking, even though it would never leave me.

Since giving my baby up for adoption I've tried to make the most of my decision. I've had an intense drive to make all of the pain worth it by achieving and experiencing all I can in life. I owe it to my baby to make something of myself for him to be proud of. I owe it to myself to forget all the misery and have some happiness.

Now, ten years later, I'm experiencing this miracle again. Sharing this story is the only way I know how to celebrate his birthday, but it seems like a good way.