The Beginning of My End

When the pregnancy test came back positive, I think I was still in some form of denial. No, this couldn't be.....there is no way this is happening..... But the truth was there is two bold lines of the home test. Almost three weeks after my period should have started.....three years after the birth of my daughter, M, I was pregnant again.

When I told my husband, he didn't believe me. He was something of a mystery. His childhood was not a good one, suffering physical abuse at the hands of his parents who had made it all too clear to him that he was an accident and mistake. Instead of moving pass it and trying to better his life, he spent his adult years dwelling on it and using it as a way to gain sympathy from others. It was his excuse to act like a jerk to both me and our daughter thru the bulk of our 5 yr marriage. But here he was, staring at the home test, his face hard to read. After a moment, he sighed and said matter of factly: "It's not mine."

Through out our entire marriage, he had always accused me of cheating on him. And now, pregnant with our second child, he felt this was proof that I had cheated and that the new arrival could not be his. A lot of this was based off the fact that it took three years for me to actually get pregnant again. I was annoyed with him in those moments, angry that he was so quick to assume indiscretion based off his own insecurities.

Two and a half months later, fed up with him and his treatment of both me and our three year old daughter, I packed what I could and caught a plane back to our homestate. I needed family support, not ridicule and accusations from someone who cannot even accept responsibility of his own actions. I returned to my family after being away from them for over a year.

Doctor appointments, ultrasounds, and a three year old child who was acting out from the upheaval of her short life were wearing on me. I had wanted an abortion. And even though my husband was adament that the pregnancy was no work of his, he refused to help me pay for the abortion. By the time I had access to anything, I was too far along for my own code of ethics to accept aborting. So, here I was, pregnant with a child I felt I was not ready for and at first, did not even want.

My parents, though supportive, threw in comments through-out my pregnancy. "You can't even handle one....how the hell are you going to handle two?" was my dad's remark whenever my older daughter became too much of a handful. Sometimes I think that because of these comments, I began to consider adoption. Maybe my dad was right. My older daughter WAS a handful. How the hell did I plan to raise them both when one took almost all my energy and patience?

I was almost seven and a half months pregnant when I decided I wanted to look into adoption. I had been researching it for a few months, investigating state laws and what few rights I had. Part of me screamed against this, but the logical part of me said this was best....after all, if one was such a handful, how could I possible deal with two? I contacted a lawyer who specialized in adoption and made arrangements to speak with her. Margaret seemed nice. She spoke of the legal aspect of it all. She then said one thing that almost made me run: "These papers you are signing are legally binding, you cannot change your mind once they are signed...." I looked right at her and said in a hard voice: "Don't f*** with me, Margaret. That's a load of BS and you know it....pre-birth contracts are NOT legally binding." I think she was a bit stunned that I had legal knowledge. I smiled rather cynically at her: "Don't treat me like some stupid, scared teenage girl....I know my rights and what is legally binding and what is not....don't play me." We got off to such a great start!

My next visit was to view the binder of "parents" and review their "Dear Birthmother" letters. Gag me, please! Birthmother???? I didn't like the term. Even saying it outloud felt gross. Birthmother...hmmmm.....my only purpose is to give birth, eh? As far as I was concerned, I was a First Mom, or even a Natural mother. And at that time, I was an expectant mom. So, here I was going over pictures and letters. I was very specific in what I was looking for when it came to the prospective adoptive couples: no children of their own (not even adopted), close to my age (I was 28 then, and I wanted them to be no older than mid-thirties). After going through the binder for about a hour, I had picked two couples. First couple I interviewed were eliminated within five minutes based off their answer to my one question: Have you ever considered adopting from foster care? Their answer had been No. Their reasons: they did not want to deal with the baggage a foster child can bring with them. Ok, cool, you can go now and wait for another one to pick you. You're so not going to be it.....

Enter B and J. They were in their mid-thirties, unable to have children because of a medical problem that J had when she was a child. They had considered adopting through foster care and had started the process, but had also stretched out to private adoption as well. I clicked with them right away. J was an artist and writer and B did stuff with computers...both worked from home. We shared a lot of common interests, hell, we could have practically been friends if not for income and age seperation. We went out to lunch and spoke of our families and friends. They did ask about the father of my children, in which I simply replied: "All he cares about is child support....he was served the papers a week ago and aside from sending me nasty emails, he has not even attempted to fight this." Margaret asked if they were the ones and I said give me a week to think. I knew that they were the ones, but I wanted some time to really think before I jumped onto a solid decision.

I called them personally to let them know that they were the ones.

The first week of June was tough for me. I was only three weeks from a scheduled cesaerian and the pregnancy had taken its toll on me both physically and emotionally. My older daughter and I spoke into my expanded tummy, to the baby girl who we had wanted to call Alicya. Alicya was rambunctious. Whenever her big sister tried to put her head on my tummy to listen, Alicya would kick her in the head. M was excited about being a big sissy. Even though I had tried to explain what was going to happen to our baby, she refused to accept it and continued to talk about all the things she was going to teach her baby sissy.

I can still remember the look of anguish on M's face when I explained that sissy would not be coming home with us. My own pain, I can deal with.....but I had no idea as to how to deal with M's pain, let alone how to ease it.

Two days before she was born, I was giving M a bath. I had picked her up out of the tub and felt something pull across my stomach. The pain started from there. It came and went. I dealt with it as I went to work and came home. On Saturday, June 9th, 2007, I was ripped out of a deep sleep by intense and almost screaming pain. I ignored it and got ready for work. To this day, I do not know why I ignored the fact that I was in full blown labor. I worked at a call-center at this time and went to work like nothing was wrong. I gritted my teeth through calls when the pain ripped through my body....I would have stayed through my entire shift had it not been for my cubicle neighbor who noticed that I was in pain. She asked how often the pain came and went in which I replied: "Every five minutes or so....I'm not keeping track..." Yeah, I will admit it....I was a moron.

Within five minutes of that conversation, I was flying down Interstate 5 at about a solid 70 MPH, rushing to the hospital. I was admitted around 7:30 in the morning and by 10:45 AM, I was being prepped for an emergency cesaerian. She was 7 pounds, 7 ounces with a head full of dark hair. Between the drugs given and my own terror of the experience, I lay there as they cleaned her. I could hear her crying, screaming to the world about her displeasure of being ripped from her warm and safe environment...............

Hard to believe it has been almost a year. Hard to believe how much she has grown when I look at the pictures B and J send me. She ended up with dark hair and dark blue eyes, contrasting her big sister's blond hair and green eyes. And even though there are some obvious differences in their appearance, she almost could pass as M's twin, their faces look that much alike.

For a while, I was content with my decision. I was not pressured, coerced or forced into it. Some part of me feels that my parents' comments pushed me in that direction, but at the same time, I will not place the blame with someone else. I did not have to do it. They didn't force it.

She is forever in my heart, my Alicya. Hopefully one day when we meet again, she will forgive me for trying to think of her. Forgive me for taking away her sister, her grandmother, her uncle, even her father....I hope that she will harbor no ill will towards me, her mother, the one who did not know what to do and had almost terminated her out of desperation. I miss her. I love her. Both her big sister and I are forever changed by my actions. All three of us are forever changed. I cannot change it back, as much as I want to sometimes. I must live with my decision and hope that my children will forgive me.