I thank God every day for our birthmother.
As a 17 year old high school senior, Dawn was an impressive girl; wise for her years, strong in her convictions, and very courageous. And she had chosen us. She had gotten pregnant on a one-night stand on New Years’ Eve, so marrying the boy was not an option for her.
After 10 years of marriage, we had everything we could possible have wanted in the material world (wish now we had put more into our retirement accounts!): plenty of money, good jobs, multiple homes, jewelry, vacations, cars, even a plane. There was something missing in our lives and I’m sure you have guessed that it was children.
At the age of 24, I left the health department and felt like a huge failure for the second time in my life because I was again single and pregnant. When I was 19 years old, I became pregnant and married my child’s father because I thought it would be the best thing for my child to have two parents living together. That child, Noah, was born in 1996 and within the first year of his life, he was diagnosed with cerebral palsy and epilepsy and then autism later on. His father and I had married for all the wrong reasons and the difficulty of parenting a child with special needs was more strain than our marriage could handle so we split up.
I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would be a birthmother. I saw women placing their child on television and never once took the perspective of the woman who carried the child for nine months then placed their baby girl/boy into the hands of a hopeful couple. I like to think I am great at placing myself in other's shoes and taking perspective on situations, but I think the media had shaped me to think more about the adoptee and adoptive parents because no one really talks about birthmothers.
