Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy Stories: I Gave Up My Child For Adoption

I came down weeks later with what I thought was the flu, and yet no treatment helped. After weeks and weeks of feeling poorly, I sat in a doctor’s office with Mom as he delivered the news that I was indeed pregnant; the pregnancy test had come bck positive. I will not bore you with the drama that ensued in that consulting room about my teenage pregnancy. My mother was livid. And she went on and on about how I had tarnished her image and disgraced her. What will her husband say? She was very concerned about her marriage.

I sat with Mom in the plush living room of Ian’s family home. I remember the spotless cream colored rug resting in the center of the rather large room, because all I did was stare at it. Ian’s father, a renowed lawyer, gave me a long lecture about condoms and birth control in general. His mother just bemoaned her beloved son’s future, which I was about to ruin.

The adults in the room weighed my options. My mother was strongly in favor of an abortion, but she needed Ian’s family to foot the bill. Ian’s mother however was a staunch baptist who had no intentions of going to hell by paying to abort a baby she did not contribute to making.

On and on they went, working out kinks and deciding my fate. Eventually, they decided I will go to a group home for pregannt teens. And I was not to contact Ian or ever talk to him. Also, I was told I would have to give the baby up for adoption when I delivered. Ian’s mom helpfully pointed me to unplanned pregnancy resources that would help me make the necessary adoption decisions.

And then Mom and I were made to sign a non-disclosure; Ian’s family basically threatened to take us on if we ever talked about the pregnancy or anything that had transpired that day with other people. I also remember Mom getting a fat check; I don’t know if that money was for the baby and my upkeep or just to buy our silence, but Mom was quite pleased with the money. If you ever suspected unplanned teenage pregnancy stories are bizarre, yes they are.

So off to a group home in Louisiana I was shipped, two months pregnant. And there I spent seven months, waiting to birth my child. The administrators of the home knew my story, they had a case file on me, and they did help me navigate that time. I learned about the adoption options for unplanned pregnancy. And I was assigned to an unplanned pregnancy support group where I learned there is redemption after teenage pregnancy.

In that group home, a place seemingly reserved for bad girls, I learned self-love and self-care. I learned that I mattered, and I could make a good life for myself. That home gave me love like I hadn’t known it since my Daddy passed. I found a sisterhood that saw me. Saw me as a person fighting t survive rather than a statistic or a failure. Some teenage parents shared their stories in an effort to help girls like me learn and know about the journey ahead of us.

I grew in leaps and bounds in those seven months in the group home, as did my baby. The home pointed me to helpful adoption agencies that specialized in teen unplanned pregnancy and adoption. And I eventually settled on a couple; husband was white and wife was black. They both had great jobs, the wife, a pediatrician and the husband, a professor. Plus they were really kind and thoughtful. So I chose them to be my child’s parents.

When I finally birthed my son, it took every shred of self control and common sense in me to give him to his parents. I was in love, he was perfect. He was a chubby angel with dimples, and when I held him he cried in my arms, as if to say, “Mommy please dont.”

But I knew better. I was a lost teen, I could absolutely not parent a child. I had no means of supporting myself or a baby. My son’s best bet were his parents. So I wrapped him in a blanket on which I had handwritten a message, “Forgive me son. I did this out of love.”

And I handed him over to his parents. I gave my son away for good. It was November 2010.

I stayed in Louisiana, in another shelter for troubled teens, and took classes to get my high school diploma. And I joined the US army where I learned to get my life together, and through which I also got a first degree.

This year I will be thirty years old. My son will be thirteen. Not a day passes without my heart aching for him. I pray for him daily, and I hope to see him and hold him again someday. I really never spoke to Ian ever, neither do i have any intention of doing so. I don’t even know if he knows he has a son somewhere out there in this universe. My relationship with my mother was strained for a very long time, but we’re are now on the mend; both of us have grown and learned to communicate better. And I have finally realized and admitted, that I played a huge, huge part in my teenage pregnancy.

So there you have it, one of the many stories of unplanned teenage pregnancy you may hear in this series, and the hard choice I had to make.