I was a 16 year old teenager, living in Paris, France when I met Michael. We were both children of career Army families and went to the American High School in Paris. When I found out I was pregnant(actually, I did not find out, My mother found out when I starting throwing up every morning) I made elaborate plans for me and Michael to find some way to get married. If we had been in the states, it would not have been difficult. We would have run off to one of the marriage mills in another state and accomplished it, then told our families. But when you are in a foreign country, the red tape is formidable, and it just was not possible. So my father shipped me off to the Florence Crittenden Home in Chamblee, Georgia, and I was effectively exiled from any one who might have helped me. In Georgia, the age of majority at the time, was 21. this meant that while I had to sign the adoption papers, I could not take the baby from the agency without my parents permission. My parents refused to help me, no matter how much I pleaded and promised not to make them take care of us. I last saw my daughter when she was a month old, in the agency office, just before my parents took me to St.Louis, where they were stationed at the time. I refused to sign the papers for a long time, until my father threatened to leave her in foster care until I was 21, if I did not sign. I did not want that for her, so I signed the papers when she was 4 months old. I had pictures of my daughter, taken by friends while we were still in the hospital. I looked at those pictures for years, comparing her to my other children. I remember being so disappointed when my next daughter was not nearly so pretty as a newborn(she is beautiful now). I tried for years to get my parents to give me copies of my relinquishment papers and my daughter's birth certificate. Still to this day, they have refused. I found my daughter though the help of an anonymous searcher and we are tentatively making overtures toward each other now. I never "forgot this ever happened" or "put this behind me" as everyone said I would. I did get on with my life. I had other children, three with a husband and 4 without. (believe me, it is easier to have them without a husband cluttering up the landscape) I have other reunion stories for my children who have wanted to meet their fathers. All are good reunions. fittingly enough, the only children who have nothing to do with their father are the ones from my marriage.

Betty

I had two beautiful children in 1984 during a separation I met a man who was really great or so I thought. He was very abusive and domineering. Quite frankly I was scared to death of him. I was afraid for my kids because he was into drugs and wasn't very nice to them and I didn't want them beat like I was. So I gave them to their father. Well his wife could't handle them so he sent them to stay with some relatives in Texas. Anyhow to shorten this Some people contactd me and asked to adopt my children. At first I said no way, but I thought I don't even have no where to sleep I was sleeping in cars and outside. So I agreed to meet them. Well they showed up on mothers day in 1984. They came with their lawyer . They had me sign papers but being dumb I did not read them right I guess I thought they were to take the kids across state lines this took place n florida. Any how that is the last time I saw my Children. My girl was almost 5 and she looked at me and said I love you mommy I will find you when I get bigger. My boy was loaded in the van kicking and screaming he was 3. I cut myself all up trying to get over a chainlink fence trying to stop all that was happening but too late. I have lived with this image all these years. also there was alot of promises made that were not kept. So now they are of legal age I have found them no luck contacting them. The adoptive parents won't let us near them. And they both still live at home and are going to college. I forgot to mention I didn't try to go get them back because i asumed they were better off because the family was older and had money. I was told they had a good life but who knows because now they say my children are confused. I figure they need answers that only I can give them. Well that is my story much like all the others. SBM ISO Jackie & Jimmy 1/2/80 10/31/81

~Debby~

I had just started my senior year of high school when I found out, quite by accident, that I was 5 months pregnant. One of the school counselors came and took me out of class and informed me that she thought I was pregnant and took me to the doctor to confirm her suspicions. The next day, I was informed by the school that I would no longer be allowed to attend due to my pregnancy. I was forced to quit school and to attend a school for unwed mothers. My family life was turned upside down from the very moment that my parents found out that I was indeed pregnant. My mother and I had always clashed on just about every issue and this one was no different. When I was in my 8th month of pregnancy, my mother informed me that she was not helping me raise my child and that I would have to find my own place to live, a job, buy my own car, and raise my own child.....OR..... put the child up for adoption and have a place to live for as long as I wanted it, as well as a car, and family peace. I had contacted the birthfather and his family and told them of my pregnancy when I first found out , but the b/father denied paternity and left to join the Navy. His family also denied that their "perfect son" would impregnate a girl that he wasn't married to, therefore I was now totally alone in my decision making about the lives of my child and myself. My family kept my pregnancy a total secret from my entire extended family. During Christmas, when pictures were being taken to send to relatives, I was the one standing behind everybody else with only my head showing for the camera. My friends were all told to stay away from me because I wasn't a "good girl" anymore and their parents didn't want my pregnancy influencing their children. When the time came to give birth, I was scared to death and had only my mother there with me. She waited in the hall while I cried in pain and agony over not only the pain of birth, but the pain in my heart. I knew that there was only one decision I could make and that was to give my son to someone else to love and raise. That is a decision that I wish now I had never allowed anyone to influence me on. I have laid awake night after night for the past 24 years, wondering what my b/son looks like, was he loved while growing up? Does he live a good life? Does he know about me? These are questions that I may never get answers to and I am forced to live with the decisions that I was forced to make. My husband and children have been wonderful support for me in my search. My b/son has a brother and sister who want desperately to know their brother. My husband has been searching for his b/father for over 20 years, and wants so badly for me to be able to find my son. I, like all birthmoms, have had to go on with my life and raise the two children I have living with me. There has never been a day go by that I haven't thought of and prayed for my birthson. I know in my heart that if its God's will, then I will find my son, and if it's not, then He will give me the strength to keep going. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to tell my story. It really helps to be able to talk to those that have been in the same shoes that I have been in. God Bless you all and keep the faith.

Lisa

BIRTHMOTHER Hi I'm a Birthmother, my name is Gloria, my son Michael James Whitney was born 5/29/69 at Albany Medical Hospital, Albany, New York. I was not given any choices only ultimatums. My mother said I could come home, but not my baby. Before I knew it, I had relinquished my son and I was suppose to move on with my life. If my mother only knew the torment I have enduredthrough the years. My father passed away 2 years ago and my mother for the first time in 28 years realized we had never discussed giving my son up and thought I had put it all behind me , and gone on with my life. When I told her that I was searching, she dismissed me from her life. She says I made the decision to give up my son which was never in my plans. I feel she has convienced herself of this, so she could have a clear conscience.I'm now free for the first time to do what I need to do for myself and my son. In fact I have no relationship with any of my family as a result of this. I did go on to marry a wonderful, understanding husband and have been married for 28 years, with three great children all college graduated, with wonderful jobs today. I have longed to be reunited with my son. I have registered with many registeries, including the State of New York. My relinquishment was handled with Family and Children Services in Albany, New York. They won't give me any information from my own file. I belong to a support group. So I keep trying, I understand most adoptees have a burning desire to find their birthmoms, just sometimes takes a bit longer than girls. Hopefully Michael will someday.

Gloria

August 24, 1973, the best and worst day of my life. It marked a day of many changes for me, some I was not aware of until I began the search for my son. It was the best day of my life because I gave birth to a beautiful healthy baby boy. He had a full head of black hair and big blue eyes. I held him and fed him for four days. I told him everyday how much I loved him, knowing that I would not be there to see him grow up. Four days later, I dressed him and held him and told him that I loved him for the last time. I watched as the people from the agency came to pick him up. I watched as they walked down that hospital hallway with my precious little boy. I went home later that day and it was like nothing had ever happened. No one spoke of my son, no one asked if I was OK. I tried to wipe the memories of him out of my mind but, how can you do that with someone that you love so much? From that day on is when my whole life changed. I began to drink and take drugs, something I am not proud of but, at the time it helped to cover the feelings of loss that I felt over giving up my baby. I became very rebellious and the next year I became pregnant again and got married. I was not going to give this baby away no matter what. After six months of marriage, my husband told me he didn't love me. I didn't expect him to because in my mind, I was a bad person. After all, I had given away my own child. I thought my daughter would be enough. She would love me and I would love her enough for herself and the baby I had given up. I found that it wasn't that easy. I know now that it was guilt but, I couldn't get close to my daughter and didn't know why. I think it was the feelings of guilt for giving up my baby and I was also afraid to get close to her because I felt that I was bad and no one would want me. I was not worthy of her love. My daughter and I are now very close but,it took searching for my son for me to realize what the problem. All the years of lies and covering up and feeling like a terrible monster came tumbling to the front. I am almost back to the person I used to be thanks to my loving family and the many friends I have made in the Triad through my search. I am getting closer every day to finding my son. One day I will be able to answer his questions and tell him that I have never stopped loving him. Mark, whereevr you are, I love you!

Candee

When I was 19 years old I discovered to my dismay that I was pregnant. I know I am supposed to say I was delighted, overjoyed, and in love with the father this sadly was not the case. Due to the fact that I was a heavy drug user I was not making good choices on sexual partners. My child’s father was a man I barley knew, he was reconciling with his wife so consequently I never told him. At this age I was still suffering from seeing too much sorrow too young and did not form close bonds. I told my family of my “condition” and received mixed responses. My sister and brother were happy for me and wanted to support what ever decision I made. My father on the other hand felt I should have an abortion. He told me that if I went through with this(giving birth) I would do it alone without his support. It was at that moment that I chose to have this child and raise it myself. On September 25 1980 I gave birth to a stunning little girl whom I named Erin Marie. I brought her home and had her for 8 months before my world crashed in upon me. I had problems being a mom, it was not the lack of partying it was that I had to care for another human being, the enormity of it all was too much for my wounded soul to bear. When Erin was 7 months old I talked to a social worker about putting her up for adoption or at least temporary foster care till I got my act together. I told her that at times my child scares me and I am afraid that someday I may hurt her and wanted help. Well 1 month later my daughter fell out of her crib and got a mild concussion, the hospital sent her home and said she was fine. A couple of weeks later I went into Erin’s room and she was laying comatose on the floor! I took her to the hospital and they took her away from me and had me wait. I waited for several hours and they would not let me see her, eventually they told me that she had fluid on her brain and had suffered a seizure but I could not see her till the next day. I went home (because good girls do what they are told). The next day I was served papers saying that the state was taking custody of my daughter and that I had to be in court in 3 days. I freaked out and went to talk to my social worker who reminded me of what I had said. For the record I NEVER hurt my child, my fear that I might and the reality that I would is not the same, but apparently I sealed my own fate. I called my family and my brother flew out to talk to me. He made me see that if I fought for her now only to relinquish her later would only harm her more. So I did what any good mother would do I put the needs of my child ahead of my desire for justice. I saw my little girl one last time that day. She was so small in the hospital bed, it took all of my strength to not grab her and run. I then went home and cried for her and for me. After that I went to court and signed the papers letting them think whatever they wanted, because I knew the truth. There are days I regret ever having held her (more memories to haunt me) and there are days I regret ever walking away (the infamous what-if pain) but I will never regret giving birth to her.

Sallie