I was able to overcome to some degree the daily worry about my son.
WHEN I WAS 19 YEARS OLD I HAD A CHILD. Since I was unmarried, my pregnancy was a source of great shame and secrecy in my family. I was living at home with my parents at the time, and I moved away to live with my sister and her husband until after the baby was born and arrangements were made for me to give my child up for adoption.
When I first saw my son at the hospital after giving birth, I loved him more deeply than I knew possible. It was excruciating to give him up to his adoptive parents and sign papers stipulating that I would never be allowed to see or contact him again. While I knew I had made the best decision for his well-being and future, I felt a hopeless sense of separation and sadness for the next several years. I grieved daily, as deeply as if my child had passed on. I also struggled with the weight of this huge secret, and I lived with a sense of shame and guilt for having put my family through this experience.
