Doing research, I found this article that was such a great response, instead of abortion. It
made me happyto see that a mother chose adoption even when she knew she had made
a not good decision in the first place. She let the precious baby girl LIVE! Read this story
and let it encourage you! I "bolded" the parts that I thought were some inspiring points in
this lovely story! God is in control and He changes our ashes into beauty, just like this
story! Please tell me your thoughts! :)
by Barbara LeCuyer as told to Carol Heffernan
I did it because I was curious. I did it because I'd heard so much hype. I did it because I wanted to experience "it" for myself. Growing up, all I knew about sex was that it was for adults, for married people, for creating a family. Then my friends started having it and, and at least from appearances, there were no negative consequences. No diseases (that I knew of), no pregnancies (that I'd heard about), no heartbreak (that I'd realized).
I did it because I felt it was my turn.
It was a typical girl's night out, until we met up with a few guys who paid us a lot of attention. More specifically, paid me a lot of attention. I had lost weight, was wearing a cute outfit, and noticed that I was the one being flirted with – not my attractive friends, not my cute younger sister.
One thing led to another, and I ended up with one of the guys in a room. Alone.
Never did I imagine that a few hours of pleasure would produce years of pain – and a beautiful baby girl.
The possibility of pregnancy
Something seemed . . . wrong. But I couldn't put my finger on it. I didn't feel like myself. The nausea and lack of energy – I thought of every possibility from stress to the flu. It wasn't until a friend joked I might be pregnant that the thought even crossed my mind.
Initially, I dismissed it. Yet, as the idea sunk in, I realized it could be more than a possibility. Pregnancy could be a reality.
I didn't think it could happen to me; the positive test proved otherwise. I didn't think news of a life growing inside me would ever seem like a bad thing. I thought wrong.
Holding the test in my hand, I sank to the bathroom floor and sobbed. I wept for the crisis I never anticipated. For the turn my life would inevitably take. For the scrutiny and judgment I knew I would face. I wept because I felt completely alone.
The choice
When I woke the next morning, all I wanted to do was return to the safety of sleep. There, I didn't have to face the reality of my situation, or the fact that I'd have to make choices that would affect the rest of my life – and the baby's.
But first, I knew I needed to get in touch with the father. After all, this child was as much his as mine. It was a shotgun blast to the heart when he informed me he had no intention of helping me. "Either get an abortion, or raise it alone," he said.
I had something else in mind.
Not that I ignored his suggestions. I wanted children eventually, but I wasn't ready to be a mother. If I had an abortion, I could keep my secret; the whole problem would disappear.
It took only minutes to realize I could never make that choice. But what I could consider – what I knew would be best for me and this baby – was adoption.
Visiting the doctor and hearing a fluttering heartbeat further cemented my decision. This thing inside me transformed from a "problem" into my very own child.
My baby didn't deserve to die because of my mistake. What this baby deserved was a loving family, a father who desperately wanted a child, a chance to live.
Deciding on adoption
From that point on, I never wavered in the decision to place my baby for adoption. I knew a lot of work was ahead of me. I also knew I needed to tell my family. They were shocked, grieved, shamed and ultimately concerned for me and the new life developing inside me.
As my belly grew, so did the number of stares, whispers and raised eyebrows directed my way from co-workers, church acquaintances and neighbors. "I didn't know you were married," someone said. A fellow church choir member innocently inquired what my husband did for a living. Another asked if I needed a crib. When I shared that the baby would be adopted, no one knew how to respond.
I would've loved to hear, "Congratulations! I'm sure you're going to make a couple so happy." Or, "Such a blessing. That's a very unselfish choice." Even, "What a tough decision to make! Can I help you with anything?" All I heard was silence.
The adoptive couple
Through a series of interviews, meetings with a social worker, and time spent learning about potential adoptive couples, I finally chose a family for my baby. There was nothing easy about the emotional anguish or the agonizing labor. And after the baby was born, there was nothing pleasant about the depression I experienced, the weight I gained or the lack of support I felt from those around me.
Everyone thought once the baby was living with her new family, once I returned to work and life "as usual," I would be fine. But I wasn't. Everyone thought I'd tire of the supportive phone calls and visits. But I didn't, especially when they stopped coming. Everyone else moved on – but I couldn't.
It took three years to feel almost back to normal. And even longer to realize God wasn't punishing me for something.
When I discovered that God wept with me while I grieved, and smiled on this new life, a weight was lifted.
I had sex because I was curious. Now I realize why God created boundaries for us to experience this level of intimacy. As in all things, God only wants the best for us.
I never thought I'd get pregnant or that I'd have a baby without having a husband. But I can go on without the gnawing guilt of ending my baby's life, and without resenting that my beloved child wouldn't have a doting father.
Instead of a lifetime spent explaining away my choice, I live in the freedom that God used my missteps to weave a miracle for a loving couple and one beautiful little girl.
Copyright © 2006 Carol Heffernan. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Originally appeared on TroubledWith.com. This article is property of Focus on the Family.
