Dawn Always Comes.

In 2009, I became a 'Birth-mom.' It was a difficult situation, as one might imagine. Once or twice, before the birth, I posted here about one difficulty or another, seeking advice. I've come back to say that good advice and support--even from complete strangers--can make an immeasurable difference. But first, here's a short backstory. As I mentioned, I had posted here perhaps twice about some issues I was having leading up to a possible adoption. I was pregnant, 19, in a stable ( at the time ) relationship, but not a stable life-style. I had chosen adoption, and had thrown my whole heart and willpower into keeping that decision. I caught some difficulty from the family--but only in the way of the pain they, too, were feeling. They supported me whole-heartedly, let me take the reins in the situation, and though I could almost see the agony behind their smiles, they remained steadfast in allowing me to make the decision myself. The last thing I posted here was posted shortly before my due-date, if I remember rightly, and I haven't posted since. But I think mine is a story worth sharing. Gracie was born, and to my utmost surprise, everyone held themselves together remarkably. The Adopting-Family was there from the moment labor began, helping me through it. As was my family, naturally, and the birth-father, my then-boyfriend. Three days after her birth, I watched the Adopting-family put little Gracie in their carseat ( she seemed much too small for it! ) and then I watched them drive away. I attributed the pain I felt in the days following to the mending c-section wound, the one that would linger as a scar to this day. A reminder. It soon became apparent that there were other pains floating around, too, ones that pain-medication couldn't chase away. So I wallowed and whimpered my days away, always supported by my people, but feeling guilty, nonetheless. I felt like an Abandoner. I didn't regret my decision; I regretted, however, having put myself into the situation to begin with. But then I got an e-mail. In it were pictures; they were from the Adopting-family. They showed little Gracie, wrapped up like the world's most adorable burrito in a flowered baby-blanket. She was being held by the A-Family's other two Biological children. This wasn't the last e-mail I would receive; I got many more, with more pictures. We got video, as well, of little Gracie on a bouncey horse. In other words, my supposed "endless night" saw dawn. Though it's only been two years ( nearly ), I consider mine, hitherto, a Success Story in the case of Adoption. It pleases me to no end to see Gracie among the A-family, so happy, smiling so big, so healthy, rosie-cheeked. I'm one of the fortunate ones who was able to see her child go to a Great family. The A-Family corresponds with me and my family regularly. I want to shed special light on the Birth-father. The pregnancy and adoption destroyed our relationship, but it did not destroy his desire to maintain contact with his one and only child. He keeps in close contact, has even visited them, and pledges to remain near, just in case Gracie ever wants to find him. I can only hope everyone stays as close well into the future as we are now. I post this mostly as a positive 'vent', but I also post this for those considering an adoption, going through one, or having just experienced it. Birth-moms, there IS hope, and you must maintain it. No one can promise you a perfect ending, but the possibility is there. I struggle, still, with my decision; I don't regret it, but it pains me, especially at night--it keeps me up most of the time, and guilt has gotten worse for me. But I feel satisfied, too; I feel, now, that my decision WAS correct, that I DID do the right thing. In other words; there is the possibility of coming to terms with Adoption. ( P.S.; this post doesn't cover nearly half of the emotional side to the story, for myself, and the others involved. I tried to make this message concise, but it was also written in the wee-hours of the morning of yet another sleepless night. )