23 years ago today…I was 21 years old, unmarried, and had just given birth.  I was not to be her mother.  I had already carefully chosen who would mother & father her, love & nurture her, feed her spirit and soul, and pretty much give her the life I knew I was incapable of providing.

23 years ago plus 7 months, I was sitting in Chili’s with her…sperm donor…sorry, but that’s the truth.  He was trying to convince me to have an abortion.  ANY feelings I had left for the schmuck died that instant.  died.  never to be resurrected.

Raised how I was, without much – of anything – especially guidance – opened the door to my being easily swayed by someone handsome & employed.  Nothing really showed what a terrible person he was – oh, there were signs – but, me, young & hopeful…well, you know how that goes.  He was abusive, of course.  Pretty text book situation of a young girl with no one looking out for her; no one telling her to RUN the other way.  The closest I came to someone caring about me in that situation at that point was when Bill, my manager at Sonic, where I worked when I was 16/17, saw that I had a black eye.  The look of horror on his face said so much about what I was feeling inside.  He asked.  I lied.  That was it.  I was too weak of a person at the time to do much more than be carried by the current of a crappy relationship.

Anywho.  So, we ended up in beautiful Winter Park, Florida.  I worked and went to school.  Got a little more backbone.  Moved out.  Tired of getting the crap beaten out of me.  Still weak, tho.  Gave in.  Obviously.  Found out I was pregnant.  And I was happy.  He…not so much.  Then the whole Chili’s episode which transpired the same day I moved back in with him. dumb, dumb, dumb.  I dropped my classes for that semester and worked a second job at Burdine’s.  I don’t know why I did that.  I would have been better off continuing my classes, which I ultimately did pick back up later…

So, after the conversation when I realized he was not going to be struck by a lightning bolt pointed at him straight from God’s finger into Chili’s, and he was NOT going to embrace fatherhood, I started looking to find out about adoption.  I found a couple through an attorney and they lived in my hometown, which was what I wanted for my baby.  The top of my list of things that I wanted the adoptive parents to agree to was to send my baby to Roman Catholic school.  They assured me that they would.

The months went by and my belly grew.  The first time I felt Alex move was while I was at work.  I was walking out of our accountant’s office and I stopped in my tracks!  I told him what happened and he, older, wiser, wonderful father & grandfather, smiled from ear to ear, “Isn’t that great??”  “Yes!!!!”

I remember thinking I wanted to stay pregnant forever.  Just to keep her with me, in this little cocooon, safe.

I approached my due date.  My last doctor’s visit was on a Friday.  Well, it was scheduled for the Friday.  Of course, control freak sperm donor said I couldn’t go.  Douche.  So, naturally, I didn’t.

Monday morning, I woke up with huge pains, starting at my spine & wrapping around my belly and scaring me!  I called the doctor.  Come to find out, I was in labor.  Parents to be were in Louisiana.  I know that if I had made that last appointment, there probably would have been signs of me beginning labor and Lousisiana parents could have gotten there in plenty of time.  The things we remember.

It was an amazing event.  My doctor met me at the hospital.  My room was for everything – I never had to leave it to have her.  There was even a whirlpool tub to help with cramps!

My boyfriend was there for all of it.  The parents from Louisiana were on the cell phone and were able to at least have that.  And then, after just a little pushing, there she was!  Beautiful!  Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes…what a life-changing experience.

I held her and never wanted to let go.  I just wanted things to be different.  I wanted to be the one to give her continuity, security, and love.  But, I knew I couldn’t.   With me, she would have to go to daycare.  With them, she was completing a family, with a mother who wanted her so badly.  She would never have to witness the things in her life that I had.  As much as I loved her in my arms, I loved her enough to place her in better, capable arms.

So, I did.

And she has had the life I prayed she would.  She’s beautiful.  She takes my breath away when I think of how beautiful she is.  And not just on the outside.  She is kind, thoughful, and has such a heart for God.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her.   She is truly amazing.  I love her so much it hurts.

I am so grateful that I made the choice I made for her.  I think our lives run parallel.  I don’t see her very much at all, but we do keep in touch on Facebook 🙂 and through texting.  When I dig a little deeper in myself, I am faced with knowing I still feel unworthy of her.  And, really, I am okay with that.  I am happy knowing she has had the life she deserves.


About southernrunningmom

Contact me like this: Via FaceBook - Mary Broussard, Certified Health Coach (feel free to private message me) or e-mail me - I am also on Twitter - MaryBob143. Instagram - Southern Running Mom...peace out. I keep my original profile details up because...well, that was my truth back then. Today, I'm much different. And busy. So, I'll update the About Me section very soon. Meanwhile, my tags would be: recovery, AA, 12 Steps, honesty, abuse, recognizing narcissism. Any who, thanks for reading this far. Mom with great husband & family...I totally love running, cooking, gardening...

2 responses »

  1. Even when we do get to be the one to raise a child it’s still possible to feel like we’re not worthy. I certainly don’t feel like I deserve the blessing of four beautiful children and yet God chose me to be their mother. Your first-born was chosen to be born by you and raised by another. God knew that’s how it would all shake out.

    I don’t know if you have a Kindle or the app on your phone but I just read a book called The Third Floor (it was free for Kindle) about a birth mother who was forced to place her son up for adoption during the early ’60’s. A different time for sure but she lists a ton of resources for birth mothers.

    My mother could have easily chosen a different road when she found out she was pregnant with me in 1971. She married my father 2 months before I was born. Was it the right choice? I’m not sure. But it is what it is. And they had 3 more children together and have been married for 40 years. Not all happy years (even still). For a lot of years I felt like a burden instead of a blessing. At least your Alex knows she’s a blessing.

    • Wow. I never thought of the other side of that coin! Bless your heart, my friend. I never considered what you have put out there. For me, there was the time when my dad was alive – I knew I was wanted & loved. Then, after he died, it was as if our whole family died. We all resurrected as best we could – given the sad circumstances of an extremely depressed mom. She pulled her stuff together, but still had valium & whiskey for her self-medication…luckily, as an adult, we formed a great friendship – mother/daughter…she actually WAS my best friend up until the time she died. I guess seeing life through a mother’s eyes – becoming a mom with my son – helped me see that some people just aren’t strong enough to carry on & make things right for the kids…sigh…’sall good, though!

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