I want you all to meet Sara. She tells you down below how we met. So, I won’t tell you the same story twice.
But I will tell you, Sara is bravely & courageously telling her story to us today. It’s a great story to celebrate mother’s day too!!!
Sara’s story is absolutely AMAZING & I want only positive thoughts coming her way! I’d like to give her a BIG round of applause & welcome her to her first blog post ever! I am truly honored to have her here today!
A Different Kind of Mommy
Kate and I met at the University of Arkansas through mutual friends. When she started posting the links to her blog on her Facebook, I began reading…and have been a HUGE fan ever since. When I read Kate’s post about Catelyn and Tyler from Teen Mom, I felt compelled to share my story with her…and now with you.
My name is Sara and I’m a birth mother.
I had a rough transition from graduating college to the “real world”. I made several bad decisions…one with SERIOUS consequences. On August 13th, 2007, my life as I knew it changed forever. I was single, working as a nanny for TERRIBLE children, and really unsure what direction my life was going. On that morning, I never felt more scared ashamed confused as I did when I saw that little pink plus sign. After many tears, phone calls, expletives, I knew exactly how I was going to handle this situation. I am an AVID planner…and told myself the first time I made a “bad decision”, should I get pregnant before I was ready or capable of caring for another life, that child would be adopted by a family who was ready and capable. Now was my time to put my plan into action.
I called an attorney less than 48 hours after the test had been confirmed by the dr. I knew telling my parents was going to be tricky (especially since my unmarried, 18 year old sister had a 10 month old at the time)…so I wanted to have all my proverbial ducks in a row before I broke the news. When I broke the news to my mom, she was very supportive of my decision, as was all my friends & family.
I waited a week to let BD (Baby Daddy) know about the situation. He said “Go to the dr. tomorrow and get it “taken care of”. It’s not really that big of a deal.” Not the reaction I was looking for, but definitely the reaction I expected. I responded with “It’s a really good thing for me and for this baby that you don’t get to make that decision.” I knew at this point, the support I got from my faith, family, and friends was crucial throughout the entire experience.
The one thing that made pregnancy less than completely terrible is my faith that God doesn’t make mistakes…particularly in the baby department. Even though I knew I wasn’t supposed to have a baby right then, there was a reason, bigger than me, I was carrying one. I met that reason at my ultra sound on December 1st, 2006. The adoption attorney selected a couple who had been trying for 5 years to have a child of their own before investigating the adoption route. Before they met me, they had two failed adoptions. I wanted them to feel involved from the very beginning because I knew in my heart, I was carrying their baby. I also thought, by keeping them involved, they would realize this adoption would not end like the others had. I hoped it would allow them to relax and enjoy the process.
Leading up to Biscuit’s (that is what my friends and I called the baby growing inside me) welcome into the world, I had terrible nightmares about him being taken from me and never seeing him again…or knowing he was safe…or a part of a family. I made it known, that I never wanted him to be alone for one single second of his life. That meant I delivered him before an audience. His parents, my mom, the adoption attorney, and what seemed like 15 doctors and nurses were all present when he (finally!) came into the world. Before I would leave the hospital, I had to see him with his family…but, I did not want to hold him. I knew in my head, even though I had made a conscience effort to keep myself separate from him during my pregnancy, it would be so much harder to hold him and have to give him back. I got the comfort I needed just from seeing him in his mom’s arms, being doted on by his dad. They were the family in that room.
The next day was probably the single worst day of my life. I woke up and the endorphins from child birth had worn off. I was in SO much physical pain and it was time to go home. Leaving that hospital, without Biscuit in my arms, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I knew I had made the right decision, and to this day, I never question that…but I was really sad leaving that hospital. I was sad for awhile afterwards.
Biscuit turned 4 years old on April 24 this year. I haven’t received any pictures or updates, but I know in my heart he is a happy, healthy, fantastic 4 year old! I still get sad on and around his birthday. However, I take comfort knowing I made the right decision by giving a family a gift they couldn’t have any other way.
On May 26th, 2011, I’m venturing into a different kind of mommy-hood. I am becoming a first time pet owner of my very own Yorkie. His name is Prince Harry. He is seven weeks old this week and 1 lb. 15 oz. I. CAN.NOT.WAIT!!! My experience with Biscuit really taught me how to love, even when it hurts and how to make the right decision, even when it isn’t the easiest. I’m going to have to remember those things when I come home to a chewed up roll of toilet paper or when I’m making Prince Harry sleep in his crate, even though he cries.