“Oh, but babies are the best!” was a frequent rebuttal of my decision to place my little guy for adoption. It was frequently followed by, “You would be such a good mom.” Truer words have not been spoken to me by a complete stranger, but you know what they say: It’s all about timing.

At the tender age of 22, I found myself in the doctor’s office hearing the words, “You’re pregnant.” In that moment, my whole perspective changed. It wasn’t about me anymore. It was about him. From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew I was having a boy. A big, huge, tall boy. I am rather lengthy in stature, and those of us who have studied genetics know that is a rather dominant trait.

Which leads me to my point: This was never about a baby. My pregnancy and my adoption were about a person. A lot of images flood the mind when a pregnancy is announced, including lots of adorable little clothes and toys. But for me I was thinking about his life to come. I was thinking about his calculus homework, his first date, and the day he becomes a father. The weight of this entire person with his entire amazing life was resting on my shoulders and my bladder. It was now up to me to get that boy to calculus and to his wedding day, and I was sorely unprepared. I had never even taken calculus.

But it was more than that. From the moment my pregnancy was confirmed, I knew I was harboring stolen goods. I knew the amazing little person in my tummy belonged in someone else’s home. I knew with everything in me that he had a mom and dad, complete with brothers and sisters that were waiting for him. It was my job to find them, which I did!


And what a sigh of relief that brought. I had found the wonderful mom that would help him pick the right outfit for his first date and the dad that would tease him about his hair. I found his brothers and sisters who would make his life miserable and be his allies out in the big scary world. I found his home, and it was just a matter of time until he was in it.

So while the world saw a baby in my tummy, I knew an amazing man was on his way to a wonderful family. To his family. People think that because I chose adoption, that in some way eliminated him from my life. That adoption is a “one family” kind of situation, which it’s not. That little guy has all the love and adoration of his family and my family. Can any child have too much? I don’t even think that is possible.

I absolutely agree that babies are the best, and of course I will be a good mom. That isn’t even up for debate. But then was not the time for that– not for me, anyway. Then was about him. It was always about him and it always will be. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I hope and pray he feels the same.