Yesterday at church a woman who is new to the ward shared her experience of placing her baby for adoption a few years ago. She chose to have an open adoption and she keeps in regular contact with the adoptive family. I (Megan) wanted to run up to the pulpit and give her a big hug and thank her for sharing her experience. Of course that wouldn’t have been appropriate—plus I had to use all my strength to keep from making a spectacle of myself since this subject makes me very emotional.
My oldest sister placed a baby girl for adoption when she was 17 years old. I was only eight, but I remember a lot about the experience. I remember somehow knowing she was pregnant before she and my parents told me. I remember feeling tremendous sympathy for my sister, while also having great admiration for how she was handling everything. I remember anticipating the birth of her baby more than Christmas day. I remember going to the hospital to see my very first niece and I remember that she looked just like my sister. I remember my parents were sad to say goodbye to their first grandchild, but that they were supportive and respectful of my sister’s decision. I remember thinking my sister must be one of the most courageous people in the world.
My sister and I didn’t talk much about her experience until we were both much older. When Sam and I began looking into adoption, I was so grateful for all of the questions she was willing to answer. I found out how hard it was for her to say goodbye to her baby—back then adoptions were pretty much all private/closed. She had very minimal input as to which family her child would become part of. When it came time for her to leave the hospital, she had to leave her baby behind. She explained how strange that was to her—leaving her baby at the hospital, assuming she would make it to the family someone else had chosen for her.
I am so grateful that the woman who will bless Sam and me with a child will have the opportunity to get to know us. I’m grateful that she will be able to choose which family her child joins. I’m grateful that she will know where her child is and how he/she is doing. And I’m grateful that, if she chooses, her child will know who she is, too.
