THE GREATEST GIFT OF ALL

(This touching record of a birthmother's decision and search to find the best home for her baby, was written by the birthmother. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of these wonderful believers.)

(Another successful adoption associated with Christian Adoption.)

What is the most difficult gift to give? I pondered this question for many weeks when I found out that I was pregnant. There I was, seventeen, a senior in high school with graduation practically at my fingertips. I had just broken up with the man, well...boy, I thought I was supposed to marry. I was finally free, and then a home pregnancy test proved otherwise. I freaked. Disbelieving what I was seeing, at first, I threw out the results and pretended that everything was okay. After calming down a bit, I withdrew the discarded test from the trash and faced the painful truth: I was going to have a baby.

The truth wasn't entirely painful, however. I have always and will always love children, and even though I was scared that I was going to have one myself, I was also somewhat happy. Actually, I was, in a way, thrilled. But then reality set in. How was I going to take care of a baby, finish school, work, and then go to college? I thought to myself, "I'll worry about that later." Well, that worked for a few days...until I told my parents, that is. The first thing my Mom said, after finishing her cigarette, was, "You have to give it up for adoption." HA! Like I could ever give my child up to some strangers that I'd probably never get to know, and never see my child again. No way...that wasn't the way for me. They didn't give up, though. They even went as far as finding a Christian Adoption web site, and setting it as my home page on my computer, so that every time I went to surf the net, that site would open up first.

By the time I had told my parents, my ex had already started making plans to buy me another engagement ring. I didn't really want to marry him. After all, I was the one who had broken it off the first time. I just didn't love him like I thought I did. And I didn't feel that he loved me after he told me that I would have to choose either my career or him. However, I was going to have a baby, and there was no way I would be able to raise a child by myself. It wouldn't have been fair to the baby, either, if I had denied him a father figure in her life. But, it just didn't feel right. I didn't have a peace about it. And I wasn't about to make that kind of life changing decision without having that peace, first.

I called it off. I told my ex that I just couldn't bring a child into a loveless home, and that I wouldn't marry him. He didn't appreciate that much. He got very angry with me, and eventually said that if he couldn't have me, he didn't want the baby either. Now I was really in a predicament. I had still wanted him to be a father to the baby, just not my husband. He wanted all or nothing. I cried. And cried, and cried and cried. I started calling out to God, "Lord, please, please, please, help me! Tell me what I'm supposed to do! I don't believe it's Your will for me to marry Kevin, but I don't want my child to not have a family. What should I do?" But I already knew what I had to do. I just didn't want to have to do it.

I had never cried as hard as I did when I prayed to God, asking Him for guidance at that point in my life, and He answered me. What He told me was loud and clear, although I could neither hear nor see what the answer was, in the literal sense. He was telling me to take a step of faith and give my unborn baby up for adoption. "I can't, Lord, I can't!" I cried. "Yes you can." He told me as I felt His arms of love envelop me, and calm my fears. He held me tight as I searched the web for that Christian Adoption web site once again, and started reading through the letters to the birth mothers. He comforted me as I went through each and everyone, helping me pick the one that would be my baby's future mother and father. God was with me as I finally came across one that I couldn't not respond to. The letter was from John and Marie, a couple who lived in central Florida, and had previously adopted a little girl. Their letter had only been up less than two weeks when I found it. My eyes watered as I read about how they struggled for years with infertility and were finally blessed when their daughter was born. They also included that they still have contact with their daughter's birth mother, and that the adoption is an open one. No one had told me that the adoption could be open. It really depends on the adoptive parents and the birth mother's relationship and wishes, I suppose. At the end of the letter, they had included a poem, which pushed me over the edge and brought the tears streaming down. The poem was called, "Legacy of an Adopted Child". Very simple, but to the point. The last line was the one I found to be most comforting.

"And now you ask me through your tears the age-old questions through the years: heredity or environment- which are you the product of? Neither, my darling- neither, just two different kinds of love."

This was the couple. This was the family I wanted my baby to have. I continued to cry as I wrote to them, explaining my situation, and asking them for more information about themselves. I told them that I would like to speak with them over the phone, but I couldn't at the present time because I was still very upset and didn't think I would have been able to make it through the phone call without crying. I sent them the letter, and waited patiently for their reply.

It came the next day. I excitedly read through their letter, which I still have today. The more I learned of them, the greater they became to me. After getting their response, I showed their letter to my parents (whom I hadn't told yet of my decision to place the baby up for adoption). They were absolutely thrilled that I had found a family that I loved. Of course, they wanted me to investigate them as much as possible before making my final decision. That was fine with me. I was only three months pregnant, so I had plenty of time to get to know them better. And I did. About two weeks after I started e-mailing them, they called me, and I got to talk to Marie for a good hour. I had been trying to think of questions to ask them, but once I started talking to her, I'd forgotten them all, even though they were written down on a pad in front of me. They just didn't seem important anymore. She answered all my questions and more without me even having to ask. I felt so at ease when I spoke with her...I felt like I had known her all my life. And I was very disappointed when she told me she had to go. It was getting late, and she didn't want to keep me up too late on a school night. So we said goodnight, and I went to bed looking forward to the next time I would get to talk to them.

After a few phone calls with Marie, I got to talk to John. We got along great. I asked him about what kind of music he did, and he told me all about Florida, including the snakes, which I hate. He doesn't like them either. In fact, he told me a few stories about times he had to kill some coral snakes that were slithering around the yard. I had a great time talking to him. Any ways, after a few weeks of e-mailing back and forth, and talking on the phone, I decided that they were definitely the family I wanted for my child, and we started talking about ways to meet. At first, they were going to fly up to Rhode Island to meet me. But, then they decided that it would be much easier, more affordable, and more enjoyable for me, if I flew down to Florida and stayed with them for a weekend, or so. I was ecstatic, of course, and we all started making plans. I ended up going down for a week, and my father came down a few days before I was supposed to fly back home, so that he could meet them, and make sure they were alright, too. That was a very exciting trip. I got to meet John and Marie and little Hope, and get a little vacation, also. Didn't go to Disney or anything, which was fine with me. We went to the beach, and we went shopping (in a major way!), and I got to know them really well. It was like they were long lost friends. I felt right at home in their home, and they did everything they could to make me comfortable. They only way I could have had a better time was if I could have stayed longer. Leaving was hard, but I knew I would see them again, very soon. After all, I was almost six months pregnant.

After investigating the legalities of an adoption in Rhode Island, my home state, and Massachusetts, the state where the baby would be born, everyone decided that it would be much easier if I went to Florida to have the baby. This was great news to me. For one thing, in Florida, I was treated like a queen, whereas here, I wasn't. Secondly, Florida has much nicer weather than Rhode Island (in my opinion). Thirdly, I loved spending time with John and Marie when I went in February, so I wanted to see them again. It was settled. I would spend my last month of pregnancy in Florida with some friends. Another bonus to this was that I would get to finish school down there. That was great, because school was getting difficult to deal with. I didn't have the energy to get up in the mornings, and by the time school was over, I was exhausted and had to nap all afternoon. Also, ever try sitting at a desk with a basketball under your shirt? That's what I felt like I was doing. So everything about going to Florida was a plus. And on April 27th, I got on my plane, and flew down.

First thing I did in Florida, after leaving the airport, was go to a Lamaze class with Marie. Since I would be delivering there, Marie was going to be my coach. We went to class, learned all about breathing and relaxing and massage (which we practiced there, so that was great!), and then we went to dinner. After all that fun stuff, we went home, and I got to visit with John and Marie for a couple of hours before turning in for the night. Before falling asleep, I prayed and thanked the Lord for putting John and Marie in my life.. They're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I couldn't have asked for a better family for my baby.

The rest of the month went pretty smooth. Tuesdays, Lamaze class; Fridays, doctor appointments; weekends, I spent with John and Marie. Very little changed while I was there, as far as that schedule went. Marie got to feel the baby kicking once. And they all got to see a sonogram that they did after one of my doctor appointments. We all enjoyed that. The weather was beautiful the whole time I was there, except for late afternoon thunderstorms and a little warm at times. We kept cool, though. After all, everything is air-conditioned. On May 22nd, we finished the nursery. Although I wasn't the one to pick out the layette set, I got to help decide what color to paint the walls, what animals to sponge on them afterwards (it was a Noah's Ark theme)how to arrange the room, and just about everything else that needed a decision. Any ways, it was around midnight and everyone had gone to bed, except for John and me. I had clothes in the wash, so John offered to keep me company until they were done. We just sat around and talked about anything we could think of. He asked me if I thought the baby would come early. Well, the few days before that night, I had started to get very uncomfortable being pregnant. I couldn't sit comfortably unless I had a pillow behind my back, I was swollen head to toe like a balloon, and everything I ate gave me heartburn. So I told him that I thought the baby would come a little early, maybe a few days, a week. I wasn't due until June 6, which was two weeks away. I figured I still had at least a week left.

By then, my clothes were done, and since we had church the next morning, he went to bed. After he left, I went into the nursery, and sat in the rocking chair that we'd just gotten the day before. I rocked for a few minutes, looking around the room, and just smiling. I said to myself, "I'm ready.", and put my hand on my stomach to feel the baby moving around before getting up and going to bed. That night when I prayed, I told God that I was ready to have the baby, but that I would really appreciate another week of fun before the big event took place. After that, I fell asleep.

Around two-thirty a.m., I woke up unable to sleep. At first I thought that I had too many pillows behind my back. So I got rid of those. Didn't help. I tried putting one back. That didn't help. Feeling a little sick, I got up and started walking around. That's when I noticed that I was having really bad cramps, rather, contractions. Of course, I'd never been in labor before, so I didn't know if that's what was happening or not. I started timing the pains. Six minutes apart. Then eight minutes. Then five...they were starting to get closer, and more painful. Not wanting to wake Marie and John up, since it was so early in the morning, I just kept timing them, and saying I would wake them up if they got any closer. Well, by four-thirty, I couldn't wait any longer. I sheepishly knocked on their door, and was surprised when Marie answered it almost immediately. Turns out she was just about to check to see if I was okay before I knocked. We called the hospital, and the nurse there told me to come in and they'd check to see if I was really in labor or not. Next thing I knew, Marie was speeding down a 45-mph street, going 70, 75 mph towards the hospital. By the time they checked me, I was three centimeters dilated, and the contractions were two to three minutes apart. An hour later, I was four centimeters. When they finally admitted me, and my doctor came in, I was five. Yup I was in labor all right. That baby was going to be born sometime that day, whether I wanted my extra week of vacation or not. Since all I could do was make the best of it, I got me an epidural, and was feeling pretty good. I even started singing "I Feel Good" when I was 8 or 9 centimeters dilated because I was feeling absolutely nothing, and loving it. I was having a good time. And Marie and John were with me throughout the entire thing, which made me happy. They did everything they could to make me more comfortable. But after that epidural, there wasn't much they needed to do. John even started to get a little frustrated because he wanted to do something for me, but there was nothing he could do. We just watched and waited to see what happened...

Finally, the real fun began. Around one o'clock that afternoon, nurse told me it was time to start pushing. After doing that for about an hour, her head finally got to where it needed to be for the doctor to come in. Once he did, though, it was seconds before my baby was born. She just flew out. I thought at first that the doctor hadn't caught her in time, until I saw her little feet sticking up in the air. When I heard my baby cry, I started crying. I was so incredibly happy. And sad. And tired. And a whole bunch of other things. But I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that after almost nine months, she was finally here. My baby was finally born. And when I saw her open up those beautiful eyes of hers and look over at me, I couldn't control myself. I just cried and cried and cried. I remember thinking to myself, "Thank you SO much, God. Thank you so much. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She's perfect. Thank you so much." I just kept thinking that over and over and over again. I tell you. It's an amazing thing, birth. When you witness something as miraculous as that, how could you doubt that there's an almighty God? You can't. Miracles like that just don't happen on their own.

John was the first one to hold her. The nurses wanted to give her to me, but she wasn't my baby. I hadn't waited years and years for her. After they had weighed her in, and gotten her bundled up, they handed little Rachel over to her new daddy. I had calmed down and stopped crying, but when I saw John holding her, and saying "My daughter, my daughter," and just looking overjoyed, I started crying again (it was a very emotional time.) There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that John was her Daddy, and Marie would be her Mommy. It was God's will from before Rachel was even conceived for John and Marie to be her parents. I didn't feel like a Mommy. Even though I'd just given birth to her, when I held Rachel, I didn't feel any different from when I had Hope on my knee the day before. I was Rachel's mother, but Marie's her Mommy.

The most painful part of my experience was leaving Florida to go back home to Rhode Island. My Mom had flown down to be with me, and my Dad was driving down with my best friend. They got there the day I was allowed to leave the hospital. We decided that we all needed a day to rest and recuperate before heading back home. Wednesday night, four days after Rachel was born, we went over to John and Marie's for dinner, and so we could say goodbye. Right before we were ready to leave, my parents prayed for Rachel. They prayed that God would help John and Marie be Godly parents, and they prayed protection over her, and that God would guide her life, so that she would grow up an mighty woman of God. I started crying. And then Marie started crying. And then John started crying. I hugged them both for a few minutes before walking out to the car with my family. As I was getting in the car, Hope asked me, "Julie, where are you going?" I hadn't said goodbye to her yet, so I went over to her, and gave her a big hug and told her I had to go home. Since I was still crying, the words were hard to get out, but I managed. When I put her down, I saw that she was crying, too. Only three and a half years old, and she was crying. The only person that day who didn't cry, was Rachel.

I've had a lot of time to think about everything, and let it all sink in. It wasn't easy at first to get over everything. While we were driving home, we stopped at McDonald's for breakfast. I saw a couple come in, carrying a little baby, and I started crying in my sandwich. When I finally got home and I saw my brother, I started crying. I didn't want to be home. I wanted to be in Florida with John and Marie, and Hope...and Rachel. I wanted to be a part of their family. But after much more crying, and praying, and thinking, I realized something very important. I am a part of their family. And I've given my daughter something that I would never have been able to give her if it weren't for John and Marie...I gave her a loving, Godly family, who will provide for her every need, and want. Like the poem says, I gave her life, and now they're going to teach her how to live it. Where does that leave me? It leaves me as a seventeen-year-old senior who is about to graduate high school, and only weeks away from my 18th birthday. It leaves me a gal who has the opportunity to pursue every dream and goal that I have for my life. It leaves me free to go out at night with my friends, and to live like every Christian teen should. It leaves me with a future that I would have never had if I had married my ex. And it leaves me with a testimony...yeah, bad things happen. Teen pregnancy, for some, can be a curse. But God has shown me how to turn a curse into a blessing. Giving your baby up for adoption doesn't have to be a negative experience. For me, it was so much more than a positive one. Was it hard? Yes, but I never thought twice about it once I made my decision. God has shown me that if we only have faith in Him, that He WILL make everything all right. I trusted God, and now I have a family in Florida who loves and cares about me as much as my real family. I can't say enough how wonderful our God is. So I'll just say this: "Thank you, God. I love you."

For more information please read Liza and Precious-2. We encourage you to prayerfully consider registering with our service, and/or writing to us.

adoption@christianadoption.com 

Go to web site index

Return to main page

1.800.277.7006       620.251.4405

Eddie & Deborah S. Hill   P.O. Box 243   Coffeyville, KS  67337    

       www.christianadoption.com       adoption@christianadoption.com

Click here to get an adoption or IVF loan!

© All rights reserved CHRISTIAN ADOPTION