Eighteen years ago today, i gave birth to my first child, that i would be giving up for adoption. I was in a very bad situation with my first boyfriend i lived with; I was seventeen. He was mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive. After i got pregnant, he became even more so. I remember him threatening to take my son when he was born and i would never see my child again. Or he would threaten me with my life.
I knew I had to do something. But what? How could I keep myself and my child safe? A miracle strait from heaven presented itself and dropped into my lap. The landlord approached me when I was home alone, asking about my wellbeing and the child's, and then asked if i had considered adoption. I told him i needed time to think about it. Nearly 24 hours later, I made my decision and started the ball rolling.
I did what was necessary for the rest of my pregnancy to make it. Then it was time, i went into labor on my birthday. It seemed to take forever. I thought the pain was awful. It was probably more so because my boyfriend dropped me off at the hospital alone and left once i was checked in. He went out partying. None of my family was to know, they had all shunned me anyway.
I was giving birth to a child that i love, want, yet can not keep. His safely out weighed my desires.
I gave birth, exhausted and holding my fear and heartache inside. The nurse asked me if i wanted to hold my child and i couldn't speak, I just shook my head "no" at her. I was in the hospital for three days and refused to see my child.
I went home and operated like a robot. Everything i said and did was like watching someone else control me. I couldn't really talk. I had shut down. Seven days after giving birth, he raped me. I didn't- couldn't fight back. I had given up. My son was safe, he could do whatever he wanted to me.
It took one more week of this before i he told me to call someone to pick me up. He was finally done with me. I packed and left with just a few of my things. I was safe. A couple months later, he found out where I was living and where I worked. He walked by my place of employment and the followed me after work to see where I lived.
He started calling and harassing me daily. I almost lost my job because of it. It was the straw that broke the camels back. It was two months after i delivered my hold, and I snapped. I called my cousin and asked if she would please take me to the hospital, that I wanted to die. She took me.
So much had happened. My mom yet again throwing me away, then dying on me a few months after that, all the abuse, being pregnant, the adoption...
I was admitted and in for two months on the psyche ward. I didn't talk much. The ache from the loss of my child never lessened. Every year on his birthday, April 3rd, i mourn the birth and the loss of him. I pray in every way I know how that he is safe and thriving. I do not regret my decision; never have and never will.
This ache in my heart is my constant reminder of the blessing of carrying him -and my gift of unconditional & unselfish love to a child i may never meet.
Happy birthday to my beautiful baby boy -Ben. I love you always.
