In a nutshell, the kid I gave for up for adoption turned one yesterday. Holy crap. It was year ago that I gave birth to him. The memory of it still makes me cringe. I must admit that when I first found out that I was pregnant, I was freaking out about giving birth. (“You want me to squish what out of where?!”) Well, let me rephrase that, I had to adjust to the idea that I was pregnant before I started freaking out about giving birth. I was in denial about being afflicted with baby until I took three pregnancy tests and even then I didn’t want to believe it.
I knew immediately though that I was going to give the kid up for adoption. I just had to break the news to the baby daddy first. I believe I told him that he got first dibs on the kid since legally he had to sign away his rights too. Thank God he supported the idea of adoption. Initially, he did try to get me to rid of it, but I didn’t have the balls for an abortion at the time so we went with the adoption route. And he was awesome throughout the ordeal. He stayed with me and made sure I always had milk (I love milk!) and rubbed my back even though he was tired and didn’t want to and was basically there for me whenever I needed him even though it wasn’t easy on him either. Emotionally, it hit him really hard and I think it was harder on him than it was on me to give the kid up, but he was always there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on.
After a couple misunderstandings, me and my friend, Sonia, decided that she could have the kid. It all worked out in the end and she is totally loving motherhood, but I didn’t really handle pregnancy with dignity and grace. I hated myself. I hated the kid. And yes, I did realize that actions have consequences and that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the kid, it still didn’t make me feel better about being stupid enough to get knocked up.
The fatter I got, the more miserable I got, and the more I resented Sonia. She was reaping the benefits of my stupidity. Me, not so much. And it didn’t help that when I complained to her, I got no sympathy. I wanted some understanding, an outlet for how miserable I was. I didn’t want to hear about how stupid I was for getting knocked up and how it was my fault. I know it was my fault and I was reaping the consequences of my actions, but rationality was hard to remember the bigger and fatter I got and the little parasite kept growing and growing.
I am making Sonia sound worse than what she actually was. She was the one who hooked me up with best doctor ever and took me to my first appointment and got me prenatal vitamins and maternity pants for work. She was so excited that I was having her baby and would leave random voice mails thanking me in her excited, high pitched voice.
And most people supported my decision to give the kid up for adoption. I had a couple people tell me how brave I was to go through with the pregnancy when I wasn’t keeping the kid. I suppose they thought that giving up a baby was going to be a hard thing for me. It wasn’t, really. I just felt overwhelming relief that I wouldn’t have to raise a kid.
And then, on the other hand, I had a couple people who just thought I was the most horrible person for not wanting to keep the baby. I tried to explain that just because I was stupid to get knocked up, it doesn’t mean I should be a mother. In making the best decision for me, I was also making the best decision for kid. I knew that he was going to a good home to a couple who would love and adore him. I would have hated motherhood. I don’t have much of a life, but I didn’t want to put it on hold to raise a child. I do believe that once you have a child, life as you know it is over, and I didn’t want to go through that. Never have, never will.
Throughout it all though, I viewed it as the hugest inconvenience ever. I didn’t want to have to take time off to squish out a baby. Luckily, I was able to accumulate about 80 hours of vacation and about 96 hours of sick time with my full time job so I wouldn’t have to go without a paycheck. I had to quit my part-time job though for a couple months. I didn’t qualify for FMLA at that job, but my manager there was awesome and guaranteed me a job back anyway.
And then I finally went into labor! It was a week overdue and I was way beyond ready to pop. Me being me, I was hoping to be like my mom and sister and have a relatively short labor. Not so much. It took about 24 hours and every minute of it sucked.
I gave birth to Shawn Colin, a healthy 8 lb, 10 oz baby boy on November 7, 2008. I must admit that I cried from the sheer relief of it being over with. I vaguely remember hearing him cry before he was taken to another room to be cleaned up. I opted not see him. I didn’t see him until he was about two months old. I have seen him a few times since then. Most recently was yesterday at his birthday party. He is so big! I call him big-headed monster baby. He is already in 2T clothes. What the hell?! Sonia and I have a theory that all the caffeine I had while I was pregnant stimulated his growth instead of stunting it. I also have theory that it is all Anuar’s (the baby daddy) fault. He is Mexican and all of the Latino babies I see at work are pretty big too so I blame Anuar.
I don’t regret giving him up in the slightest. I actually like that I get to see him grow up from a distance. I imagine the possibilities. What will he be like when he grows up? Will he resent me for giving him up when he eventually finds out that I am his birth mother? Will he understand that I made the best decision I could? As far as what the future holds, I will cross that bridge when I get to it.
