The Shape of A Birthmother (Anonymous)

20 yrs. old
1st Pregnancy, 8 months pregnant

I woke up one morning in July expecting to start my period. When I went to the bathroom and hadn’t started, I didn’t think anything of it because I am not typically regular. As the day went on with no signs of it starting, I began to worry. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was pregnant but disregarded it and went about my day. As the weeks went on I began to worry and wonder what to do. While I have always been pro-choice on the matter of abortion, I knew it was not the path I wanted to take. My boyfriend and I had not spoken in weeks and he didn’t know what was going on. I called him one morning to tell him and he just told me to stop worrying and that I wasn’t pregnant. While I knew my own body and knew something wasn’t right, I went on with my life ignoring the morning sickness, the swelling breasts covered in stretch marks, the mood swings, and pretended that I wasn’t pregnant. As the months went by, my belly started getting hard, round and hard. I was only 95 lbs to begin with and never gained weight so I knew this was it. I had to face the fact that I was pregnant. After accepting it, I called my now ex-boyfriend again. He did not work or have a job so I knew I didn’t want to keep a baby and have him in my life, that is when I began looking into adoption. During this time, I didn’t tell anyone, not my family (who I still live with) not my friends. No one knew. I was carrying around the burden alone and scared. Luckily, because I was so small to begin with I was able to wear loose clothes with no one suspecting anything. I continued going to school and working full time. I tried to stay busy to keep my mind off of everything that was going on. On Christmas Eve, I contacted an adoption agency to explain my situation. I wanted to make sure I had everything figured out before I told my family. Unfortunately, I did not get things figured out in time. On New Years day my mother looked at me and asked when I gained weight in my belly, I told her I had not worked out lately. I knew she knew, the way she looked at me for the rest of the day I could see it in her eyes. Two days later she asked me. I cried and told her, she cried and held me and asked why I had kept it from her for so long. She wasn’t angry, she was sad and hurt for me. I hadn’t told her because I didn’t want to disappoint her or my father. The days that followed were the worst days of my life. My dad was disappointed, my mom was sad, my brother was angry and my sister was scared. I went to the doctor for the first time a few days later. It turned out that I was 28 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby girl. I could not believe that I had gone 28 weeks without telling anyone. I worked and went to school and even made the Dean’s List. My parents felt so horrible because they didn’t notice, and because they didn’t help me. My dad told me that if I went through all that time alone, then I can do anything and that I’m stronger than I realize. I think he was right. Looking back on those 28 weeks I don’t know how I did it. How I got through them. But I did. I was so grateful that she was healthy and she was the right size, but still I knew I could not keep her. I did not feel a connection with the baby, I knew there are so many people out there who would give anything to be in my position. After weeks and weeks of crying with my family, I knew what I had to do. I contacted the adoption agency again and met with a family who I think is perfect to raise my little girl. As of now, I still haven’t told anyone. The only people who know are my family and the baby’s father. I don’t know if I will ever tell anyone, or if I will after I have the baby. She is due in a month and a half, and I wonder if a birthmother’s body will look the same as a mother’s body postpregnancy…

Teen Learning to Love Her Body (Faith)

I was 14 years old and dateing this 16 year old guy. we were going out for about 2 months, and he invited me over to his house while his parents where away. i was kinda sketchy about it, but i trusted him, so i decited to go to his house. while we where in his basement, he asked if i wanted to have sex. I told him that i’m not ready yet, and he just kept on asking me. he promised he would use a condom. he finaly got me to, and he got ontop of me. after about a minute, it didnt feel right. i could then tell he wasnt wearing one. i tried pushing him off of me, but then he started to get aggressive and held me down. i told him to get off of me, and he said that if i didnt let him finish, he would tell my dad i was sneaking out with him and doing drugs (which i smoked pot once before that. and i DID end up getting caught anyway.) so i was in shock, and about 10 minutes later, he got off me. i was disgusted, and just left. i called him up the next day and told him im breaking up with him. i was afraid to tell anyone of what had happened.
a month past, and my period was late. i started getting morning sickness. i was going out with another boy when i found out i was pregnant. he was the first person i told, and he said that if i didnt get an abortion, he would break up with me because he didnt want to be embarassed by having a “fat” girlfriend. he was my only friend at the time. my dad never spent time with me, and my mom had passed away about 3 years before that. my brother was moved out of the house, and i was a lone.
the day after halloween, i sat my dad down and told him i was pregnant. he went out and got a test, and i took it it came up “pregnant”. at that point, reality hit me. i was going to have a baby. i was going to have an abortion. i thought i would do it before i started to show. that night, i realized im resposible for 2 people now. i fell in love with the baby.
i told my boyfriend im leaving him before he left me, and i was going to give birth to this child. so he was gone. a long time friend came around, and we started talking a lot. his name was dustin. i finaly told him about 2 weeks later that i was pregnant. he was in shock. i had told him what happened, and he was there for me. (and now were dating (: )
i decited i needed to give my baby up for adoption. i wanted to keep him, but i wanted him to have a dad and a mom that will be there all the time for him. me and my dad found a couple through an agency. loriston and lisa where their names, and they were the perfect couple i have ever seen. we met up with them. they were so nice. i chose them.
i went into the 20 week ultrasound, and guess what? ITS A BOY!!. i was so excited. the family was also excited.
on june 18th at 7:11 i gave birth to a healthy 9lb 10 oz baby. we named him Torren Dwane Reed.
this is me at 40 weeks 3 days (a day before being induced. june 17th, 2009) :

071409-faith-1

this is me now at 15 years old (1 week 1 day post pardum):

071409-faith-2

the mom gave me a teddy bear from build-a-bear workshop that if you squeeze his chest, you can feel a pulse of a heart. they also gave one to Torren.
i love the adoptive family.

Updated here.

Anonymous

i’ve been visiting this site for nearly two years now and, since the beginning, i’ve wanted to submit my story. i am a 30 year old mother to two sons, aged 3 and 18 months. we are currently expecting our third baby, through international adoption. my husband and i were married in june of 2004, and two months later we found out that we were pregnant with our first child. i was, on my wedding day, *thinner* than i’d ever been since high school, weighing about 135 pounds at 5’7″. very quickly, in pregnancy, (many thanks to emotional eating coupled with milkshakes, and peanut butter m&ms) i gained nearly 80 pounds. somehow, i thought that all of my pregnancy weight would just “melt away.” my lowest weight between baby number 1 and baby number 2 was 152 pounds. now, a year and a half after the birth of our second child, i weigh about 13 more pounds than i did the day we were married, when i was at my *thinnest.* today, i am stronger than ever before. in may, i completed my first half marathon (something i NEVER could have done when i weighed 135 pounds.) i’ve run over 500 miles in the past year. i’m currently training for another 13.1 mile race, and i’m working towards a 200 mile, 10 person relay. while i don’t absolutely love the body that i see in the mirror every single day (especially not its stretch marked tummy or “pancake-y” breasts) i stand in awe of what it has accomplished; my body carried two strong, healthy baby boys to 41 weeks and 2 days (each!), it endured two natural childbirths (the first one totaling about 20 hours, with nearly 4 hours of drug free pushing!), it’s nourished and sustained and comforted and carried and protected two amazing little boys who are in love with every single inch of their mama. and, it’s being loved now, by my husband, like it’s thinner self never would have dreamed possible. (my body truly is a wonderland.) as i wait, now, for my third child to come home to us, i realize that there is so much more to the shape of a mother than her outstretched stomach, her rippled thighs, her c-section scar or her wrangled belly button. what’s more important are the marks left, the changes made, inside of her. while i may not be showing, my heart is fully expecting.