Words from Lois' Lodge Moms

“MY GREAT REAL LIFE STORY” /l/400/451_s.jpg

Turning 16 years old is said to be the beginning of the greatest years yet. It’s
“sweet 16”, high school sports, driving, extended curfew, hanging out with friends,

plans to graduate, for some, to go college, and above all, making plans to start the rest of your life.

I attended a very small, private, Christian school for 8 years, where I was involved in a lot of different organizations and activities. I played volleyball , cheered, played soccer, was a member in the FCA, coached an after school volleyball team, was popular (don’t mean to brag) in the oh so big 11^th grade class of 13 people, class president, and for 3 years I dated the Bible teacher's son.

My family and I were very close. We went to church often, I even sang in the choir with my mom. I don't come from a broken home and I guess you would say I appeared to be living the "normal life" of a happy and conventional 16 year old girl. My mom and dad have always told me how proud they were of me and that I was such a good girl. They were so thankful to have a daughter like me. Of course, we aren't all as perfect as our parent's think we are, but I have to say for the most part I was a pretty good kid.

When I was in the 8th grade I met who I thought was the "love of my life". We just knew we were going to be together forever. I couldn't go on an actual "date" with him (you know being ALONE with a BOY in a CAR!) until I was 16. So we waited for my 16th birthday and finally we went on our first date! Our relationship progressed and before we knew it we were having sexual relations.

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          I kept saying it over and over in my head, “No, this type of thing doesn’t happen to girls like me. If I ignore it, it will go away. What is everyone going to think? HOW can this happen to ME? But most of all….my life is RUINED!” I, the “good little, conventional, 16 year old girl”, was pregnant, and yes, by the Bible teacher's son. I couldn’t believe it; actually I didn’t allow myself to believe it. I was in such denial. It’s funny because even through the morning sickness, missed periods, and the little belly that was starting to develop, I never once said to myself “um, self, you are definitely pregnant.” I even self diagnosed myself into attributing the missed periods and getting sick to the stress I was under. I knew I only had three more months of 11^th grade left to finish and I wasn’t going to tell anyone anything yet. My friends and I talked about our senior year. I just knew being a senior was going to be the BEST year yet, but that was all about to change. I know I mentioned that I was going to a Christian school, well if you don’t know much about private Christians schools, one rule I’m pretty sure is a given, NO PREGNANT GIRLS ALLOWED!!!!!!! I tried my hardest to forget what I really knew was going on inside of me, but everyday, always in the back of my mind I knew I was pregnant. My whole demeanor changed. I went from being a very outgoing, friendly girl to being stressed, short-fused and emotional (in which I’m sure my hormones also played a major role).

            When summer started, my morning sickness traded out for all day sickness and my feet were starting to swell.. I couldn't even think about bathing suits. I surely didn’t want my parents to look at me and my belly and think anything may be “up”. I decided that since I wasn’t looking enormous then I probably wasn’t pregnant. I was almost 5 months pregnant and I just assumed by then I should have been huge, NOT TRUE, especially not when you’re in denial like I was. I also had so many things planned for that summer; I had my 17^th birthday, three beach trips, camp, Disney world, and volleyball practices, and I wasn’t going to ruin them. I decided to keep my “little” secret to myself for a little while longer.

            I went through that whole summer still “wondering” if I was pregnant and what was going to happen if I was. There was mention about possibly choosing abortion between me and my boyfriend (the father) but I just knew I couldn’t do it, if I was pregnant that is. Finally came the time I had dreaded most, the end of summer. It was a Sunday and the next day would be the start of my senior year. I knew that I had to tell my parents that day because if I went back to school I would eventually be kicked out. I just figured I shouldn’t go back. I had my boyfriend pick me up and we went to a park so I could take a pregnancy test (like I really needed to). I was almost 6 months pregnant and I still hadn’t taken one yet; albeit I did have somewhat of a pregnant belly, it wasn’t very noticeable. With the particular pregnancy test I took, the directions said wait for about 5 minutes. If it shows one line you’re not pregnant and two lines, you are. Well no more than a couple of second’s only one line showed. I had an enormous feeling of relief but then not a second later the other line appeared. Even though I had almost 6 months to prepare for that moment I could have never ever been ready to feel what I did on that day. I fell to the floor in a dirty park bathroom and cried and cried. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, all I could do was cry. Finally I gathered myself together and walked out to tell my boyfriend I was indeed pregnant, but he had heard me crying so he already knew. The rest of that day almost seems like a blur. We sat in that park trying to think of what to do next but we really didn’t know. All we knew was that we had to tell our parents.

            Almost all little girls grow up dreaming about the day they will get married and have children and where their life will take them. That day my mind put up a barricade and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t see anything past telling my parents I was pregnant. As far as I was concerned my life was really over. My boyfriend dropped me off at my house and even though I begged him to come with me to break the news, he resisted. I honestly did not know how my parents would take me, their precious 17 year old little girl telling them I was pregnant. On top of that I didn’t even know how to tell them. That’s not something you practice telling your parents. I knew that by my actions I was about to make life stop dead in its tracks or so it seemed for both me and my parents. So my boyfriend and I said a really awkward goodbye and I walked into my house.

             I was really hoping that my family had already eaten dinner. I didn’t want to sit through it knowing I was about to break their hearts. My mom was putting dinner on the table as I entered. Not only did I have to sit at dinner and stare at my plate of grilled chicken and peppers, I had to endure my mom talking about my journal she had found earlier that day. It was a journal that I had I kept when I was in the fourth grade and of course all of the entries were very innocent and young. She said that I was such a cute little girl and that conversation lead into how I had grown up to be such a wonderful person and how proud they were of me. I thought I was going to throw up. Dinner was finally over and I helped my mom clear the dishes, it was only the two of us in the kitchen so I figured it was as good of a time as any to tell her, only I couldn’t. As soon as the words “mom I have to tell you something” came out I started crying/hyperventilating. But like most moms she had the uncanny ability to predict what I was going to say before I said it, as of she was reading my mind. “You think you’re pregnant don’t you?” she said. I only nodded, still crying. She didn’t cry she just shook her head in disappointment or disbelief, maybe both. Then she said go tell your dad. Now this was the part I really didn’t want to do. I’m a major daddy’s girl and even thinking about hurting him threw me into a major fit of crying. So yet again my mom did all the talking. I remember my dad put down his newspaper, his face tightened (as it always does when he was mad) and I don’t really know what he was thinking. He said “So what’s the plan”. After that I know we sat in my living room for about 2 hours talking and crying but in the stress and total shock of the moment I didn’t and still don’t really remember anything we said except that I was forbidden to see and talk to my boyfriend ever again.

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            The next week was hectic. I went to the doctor and took another pregnancy test. I was still clinging onto hope that I wasn’t pregnant. I was. I had my first sonogram the next day. That was a very tough day for both me and my mom. I knew I was pregnant, but to see an actual baby inside of me was something I wasn’t ready for. I told the nurse I didn’t want to look at the screen. The nurse saw how emotional my mom and I were and she said in a very consoling voice, “It’s ok to cry, but one day you may wish you had looked.” That day I saw my baby for the first time ever and the nurse was right. I’m glad I decided to see her. That moment was the first time I ever sensed how it feels to love a child. She informed us that I was too far along to have an abortion, which I had already ruled out. So naturally, my only option was to have my baby. I was only seventeen, in my senior year of high school, and the father was totally out of the picture. I knew it wasn’t the right time for me (or my parents) to raise a baby. But more than that, I knew that my little girl deserved so much more than anything I had to offer her. No matter how hard, and no matter what the cost, I knew what I had to do for my daughter. Right before we were about to leave the doctor’s office I grabbed a pamphlet about an adoption agency.

We knew that it would be a big scandal if anyone found out that I was pregnant. We didn’t want anyone to know including my own family. So to save both of our families from being in the spotlight and because of the father’s family’s affiliation with the school, we knew it would be best if we didn’t speak about my being pregnant. There would have to be some sort of lie about why I wasn’t returning to school that year. Both of our families were in agreement upon the lie. The story was that I was going to be in a cooperative program with the public school system and a culinary university for an entire semester. We also said that I would be staying on that particular schools campus. I did eventually move away.

            I enrolled in the public school in my town that same week. Since we were trying to hide the fact that I was pregnant I wore overalls and zipped up jackets everyday. I didn’t go out of my way to make any friends, I ate lunch by myself, and I cried almost every morning on the way to school. I was so mad at myself. I was mad that I wasn’t going to be able to graduate with all of my friends. I was mad because I knew everything that I was going to miss out on that year. What made it even worse is that I knew all of this was happening because of something that I did. I only stayed at that school until mid September. I was starting to get to the point where I couldn’t hide my pregnancy anymore.

            The same adoption agency that I had chosen was aware of a wonderful maternity home about an hour and a half away from my town, Lois' Lodge. The home was brand new and I was their very first resident. Living there was bittersweet. It was great because I was able to live my everyday life, go to school and church and not worry about if the people around me knew I was pregnant. It was also a very supportive environment for me and my decision about adoption. It was hard though in the fact that this was the most difficult and emotional time for me and my family, and I wasn’t able to have them near me every day. They stayed supportive though. We talked everyday, and I would see them on the weekends. We had to stay strong for each other.

            My due date was November 28^th 2004. So in October, I went through the process of choosing the lucky family who would raise my precious little girl. I made a small list of things I was looking for in that particular family. I wanted the parents to be Christians, to be married for at least 7 years, and I wanted the mom to be a stay-at-home mom. The agency then took my list and from it they choose certain portfolios, made by the families, who fit my criteria the best. I remember going to the agency that day and being so nervous. I knew that I was about to choose my daughters future. I took the portfolios and before I opened them I prayed that God would show me exactly who to choose. I opened the first book and I knew it was them, THE family, but I wanted to look at everyone’s book first. Absolutely no one compared to the first family. After I chose the family, I battled over whether or not I wanted to meet them. I prayed about that too and sure enough I just knew I had to meet them. That day was full of so many emotions. I was nervous, excited, scared, and sad. I’m sure they were just as nervous. How do you sit in a room with people who are going to raise your child and just “talk” about it? It may seem like it would be uncomfortable, but it was the exact opposite. I felt like they were my next door neighbors that I had known all of my life. I felt such a peace about my decision after that day, I knew everything, no matter how hard, was going to turn out alright for everyone. Most of all, I knew that my little girl was going to get the life, and most importantly the mommy AND daddy she deserved.

            I went into labor the day before Thanksgiving. Most women talk about how much they “want that baby out” but I didn’t want it to end. Even though I was so excited to see my daughter for the first time, I also knew that it meant that my time with her was almost over. Those three days in the hospital were three of the most precious days of my life. I will never forget the way I felt when I held her for the first time. Her eyes were open so wide and she looked at me as if she already knew how much I loved her. I knew that I only had a couple of days with her and I wanted to spend every second with her. Some people had voiced concern about my holding her or spending time with her, fearing it may be harder on me. It was already going to be hard! If holding my baby and kissing her caused extra tears, they were definitely worth it. On my last day at the hospital, the family I had chosen was there to take her home. My priest came and we held a small dedication service for her and her new family. Her adoptive mom told me that they loved me and were so thankful for me and for the sacrifice I was making. She said that they were going to teach my daughter how to pray and that she would always pray for me. We all hugged and cried. It was finally time for me to leave. I remember looking at her, I wanted to just burst into tears but I held them back. I kissed her face and left. On the way out, I saw a new mother and father getting the car seat ready and I thought, “You don’t know how lucky you are to leave the hospital with your baby.”

            When I got home that night I couldn’t stop crying. I took the little hat she wore while at the hospital home with me. I just kept smelling it and trying to remember the way she looked. Every few minutes I would close my eyes just to remember. I was mad. I was mad that I felt so empty while my daughter’s new family was so happy. Even through the tears and pain, I never once regretted my decision. Yes, it was and still is the most emotional situation I have ever been through, but I know that my daughter is being loved and nurtured in a wonderful home which I chose.

            Looking back on my 16th year of my life, I can say with full confidence that it was worth every emotion and every change. That year was the best year yet, not because I was a senior, but because I gave my beautiful little girl a better chance at life. Knowing that makes it worth every second.

This is a poem which I wrote for my daughter.

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“You'll never pick me flowers

or draw pictures just for me

I'll never dress you up

for everyone else to see

I'll never hold you while you cry

or rock you back to sleep

I held you once and kissed you

Those memories I will keep

I'll never see recitals

I'll never kiss your knee

I'll never hear "I love you"

All those things I long to see

I won't be there for birthdays

and I won't be there for plays

But it's not you that's missing out

I hope you understand someday

That I sacrificed for you

because I love you endlessly

I'll always think of you

and pray one day you'll think of me”

May 2006