I am not quite sure that the lovely couple (C&G) ever knew how I selected them? How to say, I liked the fact that you're blonde and tall? No, I am not really concerned about my unborn child's welfare. Just aesthetics because I cannot handle more than that right now.
We bonded over our despair. C&G over infertility and the thought of never being called back for this type of meeting. And me, the thought of saddling this couple with all of my angst, addiction, and error. We were a match made in heaven!
G, the wife and future mother, was nervous. She started to get splotches of red across her chest. I started to laugh because that is exactly what happens to me in the same situation. Even 30 years later.
I left feeling this was the right decision. C&G were the right parents-to-be. I could move on and heal. I would forget this ever happened and get on with all that promise of unbridled potential.
The doctor who sees girls hiding in their shame did not prepare me for the moment that came later that month. THREE days of labor later, I got to get off the lounge chair of remorse and get some Pitocin in the hospital.
I did not make one noise during those three days. Not one. The forcepts finally delivered the 9 pound boy to this world and again I was in love...........
How could I give him away? How would I raise him? Who would pay for all he needed? What about C&G? But I love him!
He is perfect! All ten fingers and toes. He needs me and I feel I need him.
My mom tells me I can change my mind. I can drop out of the new college I haven't even attended yet. I can sell my car for diaper money. Hold on. What? How do I accomplish all of that?
Later that night, in the non-maternity section, I wrestled with the depth of this decision. The social worker came in with the strapping 9 pounder . She helped me feed him and I was terrified. By now the baby and I were both wailing as the social worker took him back downstairs to the nursery.
G walked in a few minutes later. She tried to look me in the eyes. But I, in my shame, could not reciprocate. She held my hand and said she understood if I could not give him away and that it was my decision.
In that small moment between two desperate women, a mother was born and a girl got her life back. G had been the parent I needed in our exchange. With that selfless act, I knew she would raise this boy in a way I could not.
I cried huge tears over the boy I named Andrew as I left him in the hospital. But I knew God (who I really didn't even believe in at that moment) had brought two women together that would be knitted together through a beautiful boy and red blotches.
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