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It was late last January. I was pretty sure that I was pregnant, but thought that by not taking the test, I was delaying the inevitable. So much for that. I was working a courier route that I knew I was going to have to quit, because I was often lifting around 70lbs and I knew that I couldn't do that pregnant. I remember driving my truck between Taos, NM and Albuquerque, NM, my once treasured time to get my thoughts in order, asking myself what I was going to do. The thought of adoption occured, then I asked myself if I could handle that. I had a very vivid image in my head of me holding a baby late at night in my parents house, just crying over him. That wouldn't have been fair to the child.So I was recently jobless, living with my parents, with about $5K of credit card debt racked up. My ex boyfriend (who I originally thought was the baby's father... when they dated the fetus, it turned out the timing was all off... but he had known there was a chance he wasn't the father from the beginning and we remain close friends) and I talked a bit, talked over every option (we broke up because we agreed that marriage wasn't right for us, a baby wouldn't change that; we were living on opposite ends of the country, with him moving around a lot thanks to the military, not a stable life for a child; I couldn't see myself doing it all myself, even if he sent money and visited every now and again). Then we talked about adoption, met with a lady from one agency, looked through probably about 100 profiles, and managed to find one couple that we really liked.We talked to them once by phone and they asked the agency to give me their e-mail address so I could contact them. They live on the otherside of the country as me. I was about two and a half months pregnant. We exchanged e-mails throughout the entire pregnancy, I kept them updated with every doctor's visit, when I learned that the ex wasn't the father, all my humorous stories from the pregnancy (I told one rude woman in the grocery store my pregnant bump was a tumor when she felt the need to touch me without asking, I got called sir on two seperate occasions at 8 months, I got arrested at 8 1/2 months and the officer had no idea that I was pregnant until he had me get out of my car...). By the end, even though I had never met them in person, I felt very connected to them. It felt more like a surrogacy than anything.They came into town three days after my due date, the baby still hadn't been born. I asked them to go to a NST with me and an ultrasound. We got to know each other a bit better, my parents and younger brother met them (my parents both approved of this couple, which was important to me). I asked them to be at the birth (I felt it was important in the bonding between them and the child and me and them). He was born a week after his due date and they were here another week while they waited for the paperwork to clear so they could go home. They let me spend every day that week with them and the baby, despite the fact that I know they were tired and probably a bit grouchy. I'm always going to appreciate that. When they left, I realized that it wasn't just the baby I missed, it was them too.Even now, I can't imagine a better way for things to have turned out.
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