If you’re new to my story, you can catch up on Part I now 🙂
I treated the secret of my pregancy like buried treasure, certain that if I was found out, my life would be pillaged.
I’ll admit, all options crossed my mind.
There were places you could go to get this kind of thing taken care of.
But I quickly dismissed the idea. (I’ve got this seed of social justice planted in me, and abortion kind of conflicts with it . . . but that’s not a judgement on women who have gone that way, I know deeply the feeling of desperation.)
The only other alternatives were to keep the baby or put it up for adoption.
I knew of many teen moms, but never met anyone who’d chosen adoption. It’s hard to choose something when you’re not really aware it’s an option. (I hope this blog will shed some light on the often overlooked choice of adoption.)
Lying in a coffin full of slithering snakes sounded like a walk in the park compared to having to tell my parents I was pregnant.
I had always been the star achiever. I made good grades, excelled in dance and cheerleading, went to youth group every Sunday – getting pregnant was not really in character for me. (Okay, so I partied a bit. But I kept that hidden too, so in my parents’ eyes I was the perfect kid.)
I just knew that as soon as I told them, a big scarlet ‘A’ would be branded on my chest: adolescent with child.
I couldn’t bare to tell my parents face to face. Everything I wanted to say, I wrote in a letter. Then I gave it to my sister to deliver to them. I went and hid under the blankets on my bed.
But, to my surprise and relief, they weren’t outraged with me. My dad hugged me and told me everything would be okay. My mom needed some time to adjust to the news but she was there for me in my time of need.
I was certain I’d get thrown out, but what I got was unconditional love.
With that part out of the way, I needed to come up with a plan.
I brought up adoption to my parents. I wanted to at least look into it as a possibility.
I was in a unique situation. My position forced me to make a choice not only for myself, but for someone else—I was only 15, a big responsibility for someone so young.
The future of someone’s life lay in my hands. I had to do the right thing for her.
But I could not forsee how everything would work out . . .
This series has several parts, so stay tuned for more.
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I may only hit the surface throughout these posts, so if you’d like to know more just ask. I’m happy for you to share this with anyone who you think needs to read it.