Christine’s Adoption Story – Newmarket, Ontario, 1982

In 1982 I became pregnant. I was 14 years old. When my mom first suspected I was pregnant she set up a doctor’s appointment so we could ‘take care of the problem before it was too late’ I denied any possibility that I could be pregnant and skipped the appointment. I managed to keep skipping appointments till it was ‘too late’. Finally I was forced to the doctor’s who confirmed my families’ biggest fear. I was pregnant and it was’ too late’ to ‘take care of it’. So I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle in the country till the baby came. Once the baby came I could return home and go back to living a normal life, or so they planned.

A private adoption was arranged through the aunt’s doctor. Every time I mentioned my desire to keep my baby, I was told I was being selfish, immature, unloving, and cruel. I was a child myself, I could not raise a child, it was impossible. Impossible! I was told that even if I wanted to keep my baby I couldn’t because of my age. I was told the decision as to whether or not I could keep my baby was not mine to make. It wasn’t up to me; it was up to my mother. I was a minor, she was my guardian, and she was going to be the one responsible for making that decision.

Her mind was made up. There was no talking to her about it. She tried her best to convince me she was doing this for me, because she loved me and didn’t want one stupid mistake to ruin my life, my future. I knew the truth was she was doing it for her family, her father; she didn’t want me to bring disgrace on them.

Up until he found out I was pregnant my grandfather and I were extremely close, out of all his grandkids I always felt I was his favourite. Upon hearing I was pregnant he told me, you are not my granddaughter anymore. He disowned me. For the next 18 years at every family reunion or party he ignored me, walked past me, and looked right through me.

My mother, sister, aunts, uncles, doctor, and social worker spent months telling me giving my baby up was the right thing to do, for her. If I loved her I would do right by her, and give her to a family that could give her everything I couldn’t. They tried to convince me it was the right thing to do and I tried to convince myself. I couldn’t. Never, ever did I believe it, and never, ever did I want to give her up.

On October 6th 1982 my daughter was born at York County Hospital in Newmarket, Ontario. I was 15. The doctor did not want to let me hold my baby or even look at her. I stood my ground and demanded to see her. I told them if we are not going to spend the rest of our lives together we are going to make every moment we have together count. My aunt backed me on this and made them bring her to me. For the next 4 days I held her and rocked her and kissed her and sang to her and fed her. I tried to give her enough love to last her a lifetime. I held onto her for dear life not wanted to waste a moment of our precious time together.

My mom came to the hospital to see me but refused to meet her granddaughter, she would not even look at her. I always thought she would not actually do this. She would not do this to her daughter; she would not do this to her grandchild. I always thought my mother would change her mind, that we would leave the hospital together, the three of us.

When I left the hospital without my daughter that day I died. I was no longer the same person. Who I was, what I believed in, and who I trusted, were destroyed instantly. There was no normal life to return to, I was gone.

Adoption is something I rarely talk about, because it is too painful of a subject for me to discuss without experiencing great emotional trauma. With those I am closest to I have shared some of my feelings but no one can truly understand what I have gone through unless they themselves are a natural mother.

Having to give your child up for adoption is something one never recovers from. Well intentioned parents and families that think they are doing right by their daughters by advocating or forcing adoption are in actuality scaring them for life.

Speaking from personal experience separating a mother from her child is a surefire way to forever negatively alter her life. She will never ever recover from the experience. Forever she lives with a deep aching feeling of emptiness and longing for the child that is missing from her life.

Having another child does not take away this feeling; it causes the pain and hurt to grow stronger. Each milestone moment she experiences with her other children will be followed by deep sadness for every special moment and occasion she could not share wither missing child. A mother’s heart holds a special place for each and every child she gives birth to, each child has their own special place. No matter how much love and joy and laughter her heart is filled with, there will always be that empty space.

A part of her will always be stuck in the trauma of the experience of being separated from her child and she will never be able to leave that terrible place. Not of a day of her life will go by when she will not miss and ache to hold and touch and comfort her child, and not a night will pass when she will not say a special prayer for God to guide and comfort and protect her child and keep her safe.

I do not promote teen pregnancy but accidents do happen and I think when they do families and society should provide teen moms with support, love and nurturing rather than convince them that if they cared about and loved their baby they would do the right by them and give them up.

They should not try to convince them that what is important to a child’s well-being is a big house with two parents and two cars and a cottage, and brand name clothing…. They should not dare to try to convince them that they are unfit to be a mother because of how old they are.

The truth is the only thing a child needs to grow up happy and well-adjusted is love. There is no replacement for mother love!

The mother child bond should never be broken. Separating a mother and child is abusive and torture and both will the feel the pain of it in every part of their being. There is nothing that can replace that empty hollowness and there can be no happy endings.

The mother and child reunion fills the empty place but mother and child will spend the rest of their lives trying to make up for all they missed out on and playing catch up. They will spend years getting to know each other and establishing their relationship. There is also the introduction of the child into the family. All will struggle as they try to figure out roles that feel comfortable and make sense.

The day that I left the hospital without my daughter was my death day. I never recovered from the trauma and felt like I was part zombie for the next 21 years of my life.

I urge all parents if you daughter ever confides in you that she is pregnant; don’t turn your back on her. Be there for her and for her baby, your grandchild. Do all you can to ensure that they make it, together. Speaking from personal experience forcing a 15 year old to give up her child will do more than keeping her baby could ever do to ruin her life.