JJ's Birthmom Story Part 1



Randy and Tracy with Stella right after birth

 I was asked to write my story on being a Birthmom.  I honestly have no idea what to write.  I don’t know if this is what you’re looking for but if anything I hope it touches your heart.

So I guess I will start at the beginning (seeming it's usually the best place to begin). I will apologize now in advance for I tend to write how I think and speak. There is rarely a filter on my writings and in this case I do believe it's the best thing.
 
I’m not the classic case that one would picture when I tell people that I gave a child up for adoption.  I am 28 years old and have one child.  NO I am not talking about the child I gave up. I’m talking about my daughter that will turn 4 this month.  I gave up my second child.

I need to give you a little history on me so you understand my problems (that I will not elaborate on) that I have.

  I was in the Military seven years ago (wow it seems like yesterday that I got out).  I entered at what was considered an old age (lol if they only knew what old really was) of 21.  Within one year I was at my first duty station.  Within four months I was on my way to Iraq.  This is where I spent the next fifteen months of my life.  Now I wish to make one thing clear, I am telling you this not to get praise from you but to let you understand my decision (sometimes we need all the facts to determine if the right decision was made).  After our tour was complete my unit was sent home.

Upon arriving at my new duty station in Colorado, my life started to spiral out of control.  I didn’t know it at that moment but I was self medicating and taking foolish risks for unknown reasons.  I was and still am to this day suffering from PTSD.  I can assure you it’s not fun.  About a year of doing reckless things I decided to get married.  Three months afterward I found out I was pregnant.  Three months later my husband and I were no longer married.  I now found myself being a pregnant single female who never wanted children in the first place.  Even at six months along I was still uncertain on whether I wanted to be a single mom (heck just a mom in general).  I chose to keep my daughter.  I knew it would be a challenge and that my biggest fear might come true.  What’s my biggest fear you ask? Failing as a parent of course! That, and potentially becoming a child abuser.  Just those two things alone gave me nightmares.  I struggled and struggled hard.  Heck I still do.  I have to keep an iron clad hand on my temper, for it can be triggered by anything and everything if I don’t.

Two years ago, (approximately) I went to Arizona to visit an old Army friend and to just take a vacation.  My sister insisted on it, telling me that everyone needs a break once and a while.  So I went on a road trip.  I was having fun but I just wasn’t truly enjoying myself.  I realized I was missing my daughter.  I started back home three days early. I was one state away when I stopped to see an old "flame".  Don’t misunderstand me, I had no intentions to be with this man in a romantic manner.  It merely happened.  Well about two weeks later I was driving in my car and BAM!!!  It hit me.  Just like that I knew I was pregnant again.  The only person that knew (besides me and the nurse) was my older brother.  He was kind enough at the time to grant me my privacy and not tell anyone.  This is where things started to get out of control. 
         I called the guy and told him what was going on.  I explained to him that there was no obligations or strings attached (I’m very against females that TRAP males).  He assured me that he was excited and happy that we had created a child together.  I still didn’t know if I wanted another child on top of the one that I had, to walk on egg shells with to begin with.
It was giving me a headache and just a general sense of dread to think about starting over again.  I explained all this to the father (I guess I should start calling him that, instead of "the guy").  I also told him that I didn’t expect him to do anything that he wasn’t ready for, and that I would just have an abortion.
        Yes that’s right I said it.  Do I believe in abortion?  Yes I do, but not as a means of birth control (I’m a paradox I know).  I do believe that every woman has a choice.  The father assured me that this was something he wanted.  He even came up and told my family with me.  We were all fooled by his guise.
He waited until I was just past my three months to cut all contact with me.  It was then that I realized that he had never wanted me or the child.  Did that hurt?  Not really.  It was a one night stand to put it bluntly.  I chose an action and this was the consequence.  What really angered me was that he "strung" me along so that I couldn’t abort the pregnancy.
       My mind was already going about a thousand miles a minute.  "Great, now your gonna have to raise two kids on your own when you didn’t even want the one to begin with".  I knew I was in trouble.  Secretly, I started looking at adoption.  I knew my family was going to hate me for it.  Finally it was time to tell the family that there was no way that I could keep the child (this is where it became interesting).

Part 2 will be posted next Saturday.  Stay Tuned!