In 1959 I was a pregnant, unmarried woman. My child's father chose not to marry me. So at the young age of 20 I made a decision on my own to give my son up for adoption. I vacillated the whole term of my pregnancy, until the actual day of birth. I chose not to see or hold my son for fear of not being able to let go. How painful have been those 30 years since that decision was made.
I have been happily married for 28 years, have five lovely children and am pursuing my career. Never have I replaced the emptiness of my first born.
I made contact with my son last October, and we have been in touch ever since. This is not to say that there has been a happy ending. It is a bittersweet experience that keeps unfolding.
I feel loved by my son and his wife, and there are two grandchildren whom I dearly love. I met the adoptive parents, and they are loving people. I'm jealous of them for having the opportunity to raise my child. I'm working on overcoming these feelings.
By all outward appearances I am a well-adjusted, successful, educated woman who should be counting her blessings. I do and am working on bridging the past to today and finding a comfortable place in my son's life. It's a very difficult road to travel, but I'm determined to work it out. If one of my children were to find themselves in the same situation that I was once in I would have to advise them to keep their baby.
Palos Verdes Estates