Chances... A Familiar Walk...

Almost 19 years ago, I was an 18 year old young lady with an uncertain future. Honestly... I'm not sure how else to say it... I was pretty lost.

I had graduated high school with honors and had been accepted at a few different colleges, but I had decided to take a year off 'to find myself' before tackling 'the rest of my life'. You see, I was one of those 'book-smart' but emotionally stupid girls. I knew it... didn't often try to deny it... but hadn't managed to figure out how to fix it. I knew what I did NOT want in my life... abuse, addiction, illusionary relationships... but I found myself constantly questioning not only my self-worth, but increasingly questioning the reality of whether or not that 'other' life was something I would ever be able to find.

The struggle to figure out who I was became so intense that it was actually easier to see what other people wanted me to be. I fell into the trap of trying to become whatever someone else needed me to be... outwardly, anyway. Every once in awhile, a part of the picture, the illusion, would 'ring true'... would feel genuine... but that would almost always frighten me and spark the self-doubts all over again. No one wanted 'real'... but I could be close enough to what they wanted for long enough to allow myself to fool myself into thinking they genuinely cared about 'me'.

Having someone care about me... that was the need... and I filled that need in ways that made me feel more lost than found.

That's where I was, about 19 years ago. I knew I was lost. I knew that was not the life I wanted. And... I knew I didn't have the skills or knowledge... or perhaps the courage... to break out of the cycle I'd found myself in and go after the life I dreamed of. I knew myself, and I knew I was on a dangerous path... I knew I didn't want the life I was leading... but I did not even know what that 'other' life would look like... much less how to get there.

That's where I was, about 19 years ago, when I found out I was pregnant. That was the beginning of the rest of my life.

My head was spinning... and my heart breaking. By the time I got my head out of the 'denial cloud', I was about 3 months along, and my options were... parenting or adoption. That emotional battle was a short but fierce one. As I said, I knew myself... I knew where I was in my life... and I knew in my heart that the only thing I could give this child was love... and I knew that was not enough. Adoption was the only choice. The thought of inflicting my life, my struggle, on this innocent child was something I could not bear. I had to give this child a better chance in life than she would have with me.

That was always how I looked at it... giving her a better chance than she would have had with me... that rang more 'true' than anything I had ever known. It was also a chance for me to change my own direction... and I became more committed to figuring out how to do just that. So, choosing adoption was never, ever, giving her up... it was giving her a better chance... and myself one, as well.

At first, I was afraid to love this little person growing inside of me. I was so afraid that if I didn't stay detached, I would end up changing my mind about adoption. That feeling didn't last very long. I had an ultrasound at a little over 3 months along... and that afternoon, I felt her move for the very first time. I was sitting on a bench at a bus stop... and felt like I could not breathe. A battle (that felt like forever, but must have only lasted seconds), between fear and love was fought intensely... and love won. The fear was not entirely defeated, but in that moment I knew, deep in my heart, that this time was all I had... all I was likely to ever have... and I knew that I would treasure every second. Every movement, every breath shared, every single second was a gift that I would carry with me for my entire life. After that moment, I practically reveled in the whole experience. I no longer felt the need to deny the love I felt for her... no longer felt that love would be a danger to her... I felt a freedom unlike any I had known before. I didn't even realize tears were rolling from my eyes until the drops started hitting the backs of my hands, which were gently holding my tummy. With my entire heart and soul, I loved her... and still do.

I worked with an agency, poring over applications submitted by couples wanting to adopt. There were letters back and forth to a few... and I picked a couple who touched my heart and I felt would be able to not only raise and support this child, but also love her beyond measure... much as I did. I didn't take advantage of the opportunity to meet them, though. I knew that if I knew what they looked like, I would be forever looking for them. I knew there would come a time when I would not be able to resist. Though I would have loved to thank them, in person, this turned out to be the right decision.

She was born via c-section November 16, 1991... and she was beautiful. My heart practically broke when the doctors told me that, as a result of being breech, she had hip dysplasia and would have to wear a brace for about a year. They assured me that this would not be a lasting problem for her... that after that year, the brace would come off, and she would run, jump, play, and grow like any other child.

There were some complications for me, and I ended up staying in the hospital for 11 days. She went to a foster home, where she would stay until the end of January. That was when I was scheduled to go to court to relinquish my parental rights. When I got out of the hospital, I went to the foster home to see her... and spent many hours of many days there. Those were moments I never dreamed I would have... and are some of my most precious memories. I know she did not understand the words I spoke... but I will never forget the way she looked right back into my eyes, my soul, when I held her on my lap and told her all that was in my heart.

On January 22, 1992, I sat at a table in a courtroom while the judge spoke to me. He wanted to make sure that I understood that I was giving my daughter up for adoption and would be losing all rights as a parent. What he was saying was wrong... incorrect... so I stood up, interrupting him, asking if I could speak. Words started... so did the tears... but I talked right through them, not stopping until I had finished calmly, but firmly, explaining to him that I was in no way giving up my daughter. I was giving her a better chance in life than she would have with me. Loving her as deeply and purely as I did, I could do no less for her than to try to give her the best... and the best was not with me. This was an act of love... not of abandonment, as his words implied, whether it was meant that way or not. I knew that love, as pure and critical as it was, was not enough. This was a chance for her, and a chance for me, as well. In my short time with her, she had changed my life... and this decision to give her a better chance through adoption would not be for nothing. I told him that this was the hardest decision I was likely to ever make in my life... but, as painful as it was, my love for her outweighed my fear of giving her that chance. His words, which I won't share here, right now, will probably stay with me forever. I will simply say that he heard me, in that moment, and he heard my heart.

The adoptive parents sent me pictures for that first year... and I hope to be able to thank them someday.

There have been many changes in my life since then. I carry a hope within me... a hope to see my daughter again someday... a hope to have an opportunity to answer any questions that she may have... a hope to simply tell her that I loved her then, I love her now, and I will love her always.

Another thing that I carry with me is the determination to change the direction of my own life... that was part of the reason for the adoption choice... and if I did not change my life, if I did not figure out a way to have a good, positive life... then I might as well have kept her. That determination has kept me going through some pretty tough times. I knew what I didn't want in my life... but didn't know how to get to where I needed to be. I had no road map. So... I wandered.

The person I had worked with at the adoption agency had said that I could write letters to my daughter, and those letters would be put in a file that she could access, if she wished, when she was 18. Over the years, I wrote and sent letters... birthdays, holidays, 'just because I'm thinking of you' days... so many letters. I figured her file had to be an inch thick, at least. Whether she ever wanted to meet me or not, I wanted her to have answers to whatever questions she might have... so I tried to fill those letters with love and information.

One of the hardest things for me to deal with is the not knowing... the complete and legal inability to find out even if she was okay... that there hadn't been some terrible accident or something like that. I would sometimes spend days in that agonizing place... and it always came down to faith and trust. I never thought I'd made the wrong decision when I chose adoption. But, did I pick the right couple? Was the agency as solid and worthy of this responsibility as I'd thought? Was she okay? Did she have even half of what I wished for her... the people around her loving her, teaching her, helping her along her own growing journey?

In the end, it always came back to trusting my heart. I had gone through that whole process with a clarity of heart that I'd never felt before. Trust has not ever come easily to me... and, though I definitely have a deeply spiritual vein, I've never been very religious. I had never had to 'hand over' to God, to the Universe, such a thing before... but every time I have that anguish filled wondering battle, I reach a point where I sigh, dry my eyes, and reconnect with the realization that, again, I have a choice... faith and trust or insanity and complete lack of functioning. Since the second would, in my eyes, invalidate or cheapen the very choice to give her a better chance through adoption, the only thing I can do is trust... hold that faith deep in my heart... and go on.

A couple of years ago, during one of those battles, I tried to reach the case worker who had helped me through the adoption. I felt an intense need to know that the letters I had sent over the years had indeed gone in a file for her. Several calls and emails later, I was told by a wonderfully kind woman that she had both files in her hands... and there were no letters. I could not believe it! These letters weren't typed up on a computer, saved on a disc... there were no copies... and they were gone! I was devastated. One of the most important things I wanted to do for my daughter... provide answers to the questions she might have... whether she wanted to meet me or not... *sigh*... they were all gone.

After a couple of weeks, I got back in touch with that kind woman... and she assured me that she would place any future letters in the files herself. I'm grateful for people like her.

Almost 19 years ago, I had given myself a timeline. I had to have my life 'together' by the time she reached 18. I needed to, by then, be someone that she would be proud to know, if she chose to meet at all.

I am by no means 'done'... I hope to continue to learn and grow for the rest of my life... but I am finally at a place in my life where I can honestly say that, even with all of my faults and challenges, I can look at myself and know that I have learned something from every 'place' I've been in my life. Using the things that I've learned along the way... not ignoring those lessons but incorporating them into my present 'self'... I've grown to be the woman I wish I could have been back then. I have a love in my life that I never felt I'd be worthy of... always had been, but never felt I was. There are challenges I face every day... or dodge them one day to face them the next... *smile* I am finally... blissfully... genuinely 'okay'. That might sound ridiculous... but it's a point I never thought I'd reach.

I have 3 brothers, all of whom have kids of their own. My nieces and nephews are precious to me... though it has been difficult sometimes, over the years, watching them grow. I have tried to be, to them, the kind of person I hope has been around my daughter. Love, respect, imagination, and silliness... all such important things for kids to be surrounded by!

This walk has been one of love... faith... trust... and agony.

I've taken this particular walk countless times in the last 19 years... in different places, physical and emotional... sometimes intentionally and with purpose... sometimes unexpectedly finding myself on the path. Sometimes the walk has a tint of anguish so deep and pure that I feel certain my heart will simply burst from the ache. Sometimes I find, along the path, pieces of myself that I might not have otherwise found. But always... every single time I find my inner feet treading on this path... there is love... love unlike anything I have ever known or will ever know again... and the certainty that, although it was the hardest thing I've ever done, it was also the most right. Knowing that, I don't fear the traveling I know I'll continue to do.

Life is good... and precious. I'll keep wandering... taking these random, though sometimes familiar, walks... and I'll keep learning. It took me awhile to get where I am now, but I wouldn't trade the journey for anything. Even the roughest spots had a gem of knowledge in them, even though I had to dig like mad, sometimes, to find them. *smile*

Nothing has been for nothing. It all matters... all of it... and that's why I'll keep taking these walks.