Will She Ever Love Me?
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When faced with difficult decisions in my life, my biggest hang-up was that I always ran away from my problems. I never faced them head on, until I had no choice.
All I ever wanted was someone to love me, I mean really love me; the kind of love that lasts forever. When I was 17-years old, I travelled to Austria with my family for 3 weeks, went to summer camp for 3 weeks, and thought I was ready for my senior year of high school.
About three months into the first semester of school, I found out I was pregnant. My boyfriend told me to tell everyone it wasn't his and that I had cheated on him. I tried telling people that, but no one believed me, and the truth came out.
I had considered abortion, but when I called the clinic, I was told it cost three hundred dollars and I was too far along for an abortion to be possible. My next option was to tell my parents.
My boyfriend suggested that I wait until after Christmas, then after the New Year, and then after we went back to school from Christmas break. Finally I told them and they did not take the news well. Having been raised a Catholic, my being single and pregnant was not proper and I was now an embarrassment to my family.
A friend of mine suggested I go to a place where girls stayed to have their babies, whether they kept them or not. I still wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to give my baby away, and I knew if I told my parents I was considering it, they would send me to St Monica's.
I hated being there at first, with everyone pregnant. Some were keeping their babies and others were giving them up for adoption. I was lonely.
I finally made some friends. One in particular, named Sharon, became close to me and we talked about everything. She was giving up her baby; she was only 15, she wasn't ready to be a mom, and she never wanted to talk about it. I truly loved her and respected her decision, but was it the right one for me?
I loved being pregnant, and each day I was torn between keeping my baby and giving her away. I wanted her very badly, but I wasn't sure of myself, and my parents were not supportive of me keeping her. They were all for adoption.
My boyfriend was supportive as long as he didn't have to be involved; so there I was, alone.
I had my baby girl on May 8th, 1987, at St. Monica's maternity center, where I was living. I had spent a long night trying to convince the nurse on duty that I was actually in labor. Because she didn't believe me, my little girl was born in a chair, and my sweat pants were still on when her head came out.
I should have taken that as a sign that we were meant to be together, but in spite of being with her in the hospital, holding her and feeding her, I still let her go. My mom kept saying it was for the best, and that I was better off because I could do anything I wanted to with my life, and also give her a better life. But did I?
That question travels my mind daily and here it is almost 12 years later and I still wonder if I made the right decision. I know that having her was right. I would never have been able to forgive myself, if I had had an abortion. But can I ever come to terms with giving her up? Will she ever try to find me? Will she ever know that I didn't want to give her up, but did it because that was what was expected of me? Will she ever love me, the way that I love her?
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© 1999
