a memory

it rained on the way in, not that i was really paying attention to the weather. i was full of fear and anticiaption of the unknown that lay ahead that afternoon and on into the next day. there were christmas lights strung on many of the houses we passed and as it was starting to get dark the closer we got to our destination they lit up in a festive display that was beautiful and symbolic to me.

the next 8 hours are a blur other than the sound of the radio on the shelf beside me playing christmas carols at a very low volume. i remember one carol in particular sung by a little girl who was 9 years old. i don't recall her name or the name of the song but i remember the story of the little girl asking jesus to help her mommy do the right thing and i remember thinking to myself that if that wasn't symbolic of what was happening in the very room i was in now nothing was.

a 17 year old girl is not old enough to go through this alone and my mom and dad were right there with me as i delivered into the world a beautiful child. her future wasn't going to be in my hands much longer but i felt i was doing the right thing for both of us.

first let it be said this was my choice. i alone decided the course that my future and hers would have. whether anyone thought my choice was right or wrong was of no concern to me still isn't to be honest. i did what i thought was best.

when i found out i was pregnant i knew right then and there that i would give this child up for adoption to a family that could not have children of their own. a random act of kindness if you will. it was partly selfish as well because i didn't want the responsibility a child requires. instead i wanted to finish school and do something with my future, having a toddler during my teens did not appeal to me at all.

i loved that child with my whole being i still do. i took care of myself and her while i was pregnant. i never regretted a moment and every kick and wiggle and squirm she made caused my love to grow stronger.

i was very set and determined on how things would be handled if i was to go through with this adoption. i did not want to see her, i did not want to hold her, i didn't even want to know what sex she was. (someone slipped later on that one) when it came to naming her for the adoption documents i wanted no part of it. were these decisions cold and callous? no. they were made based on the fact that this child was not coming home with me and i needed to distance myself from the details that would make it all too real.

in the hospital i was in a private room something i was very grateful for but i was near enough to the nursery that i could go and view the other babies on the ward. my child had been placed on another ward as per my instructions. the morning after the delivery i woke to find a dozen plus one long stemmed red roses sitting on the counter by the door. my dad had sent them, 12 for me and one for my nurse. that gesture meant so much to me. flowers and chocolates continued to arrive from friends and family over the next day.

also arriving uninvited was the social services worker who thought it was imperative that i hold and nurse the baby before i left the hospital. what the purpose of this was is beyond me as i was so set in my ways i finally had her removed from my room permanently. i resented her attempting to sway me regardless of what her job was.

i spent alot of time in the lounge with the long term high risk mothers who were expecting and had been the hospital for up to 5 months on bed rest. these young and older women were wonderful and caring and so theraputic for me. we would talk for hours while we played cards or watched tv. i listened to these women some married with kids, some addicted to drugs and trying to come clean before their babies were born and i saw maybe for the first time in a clear light exactly what i did and didn't want to become.

i left that hospital a mother without a child.

no regrets.

today is my daughter's birthday. she is 17 yrs old and other than an update when she was 3 months old i have had no contact at all.

i think about her often and my boys know they have a sister out there somewhere that we all hope we will have a chance to meet over the next few years if that is what she wants.

her 17th birthday is today the only day i allow myself any selfish behaviour regarding my choice. the day i spend thinking about the lost first step, the first word i didn't hear, the first day of kindergarten that i never walked her too, the first pajama party i never had to turn the lights out on, the first date i didn't wait up for, the keys i didn't have to hand over when she finally got her license. i have a great cry and wallow in self pity for a few hours then i take a long hot bath crawl into bed.

as i drift off to sleep i hope her life has brought her all the things i had hoped it would the day i brought her into this world.