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Pregnant at 18

At age 18, I was pregnant, frightened, ashamed and angry.
 
I was pregnant because of making a wrong decision in a weak moment; frightened because of the life-changing decisions I was about to make; ashamed and angry because of disappointing myself and my parents, even though they were understanding and supportive.
 
All options had been presented. What had happened to me was not the baby's fault.
 
I chose adoption.
 
I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with dark hair and porcelain skin. She took my breath away.
 
I was totally captivated by this precious little one. Holding her was an incredible experience of joy. I would have that privilege only once more before her adoption.
 
Three days later, her new mother and father came to add her to their family.
I learned she would grow up with a brother.
 
The nurse brought my baby to me with two sets of "going home" dresses provided by her new mom and dad — one pink and one white.
 
I remember she told me as she was closing the door that I was about to make a family very happy. While I told my baby what a wonderful home and life she would have because of these very special people, I slipped the white dress over her dark brown hair.
 
Twenty minutes later, the nurse returned to take my beauty and introduce her to her new family.
 

My decision was right to have her become a member of this caring, loving family.
 
They could give her what I could not. I knew that.
 
I… laid her in the nurse's gentle arms. Maybe one day we would meet.
 
The nurse smiled.
 
She told me she admired me courage and that I set a good example for others to follow. I'll never forget that.
 
That was 39 years ago.
 
Twelve years ago, that precious dark haired, porcelain-skinned baby called me.
 
I have met her parents and brother.
 
She has created her own unique, successful, non-profit organization, ACT OF LIFE, advocating adoption.
 
We have become fast friends….Isn't life amazing?
 
[LifeLines, June 2008, HeartbeatInternational.org]