I changed my stance on abortion after giving my child up for adoption

Several years ago, I gave my child up for adoption. I was not too young, in my early 20s, but my boyfriend (at the time) and I were not ready to become parents. Regardless, I've never wanted children, and I'm even more adamant about it today. Though I contemplated abortion, in the end, I decided adoption was the better choice. Who am I to end the life of a child simply out of convenience, I thought.

The adoption went smoothly. I was happy we agreed to a semi-open adoption, which included frequent communication with the parents. The parents are the most amazing people I’ve met. They’ve given the child the life they deserve. I have absolutely nothing bad to say about them. No, this story is all about me. Shocker, right?

As it began, the adoption organization gave me information booklets about the adoption process and briefly mentioned support groups for birthmothers. I quickly tossed them aside and decided to move on with my life. I figured I should, at least, have something to show for this “sacrifice.” I moved to a new place and started my adult life over.

There were some ups and downs. It was not too bad, but just enough instability to show me that I made the right decision. I could barely take care of my own life. I’m your classic millennial meme right here.

Throughout the years, I experienced a number of the emotions that you might expect after adoption, including guilt, shame, and regret. However, there is one emotion I didn’t expect: grief.

Grieving someone who is still alive is a unique feeling. Reading what little information there was about the psychological effects of adoption for birth mothers back then, I came across this phrase: “losing their child to adoption.” That confused me. I didn’t “lose” the child. To say I lost a child to adoption would be like stomping on the flowers of parents whose children were taken and are no longer here. Most people mourn because they miss the life they lived with their loved ones. For me, I grieve for the life we could have had together.

I don’t regret the adoption. I still believe I made the absolute right decision. This child was destined to be with their family, whether by chance or design. I do not doubt that these were the true parents of the child. It was meant to be.

Not only are the parents amazing to the child, but they’re also amazing to me. I have a good and open relationship with them that makes me feel like a part of a unique family dynamic. It’s weird seeing this tiny person who looks like you and has similar mannerisms as you do, but with added dramatic influences they get from their parents. The child is growing into this brilliant, sweet, and beautiful person. While my ego wants to attribute that to the child’s genes (specifically the ones I gave them), I know, in actuality, it’s because of their equally brilliant and sweet mother and father that raises them. It’s a picture-perfect ending.

So why did this experience change my stance on abortion?

Because, even with this best-case scenario, I still grieve. Not every day. Not even most days. Some days are hard, though. Even after many years, the tears still come too easily. I feel a deep hole in my chest where my heart should be. A fist where my throat should be. Not all of the time. Just some of the time.

It’s a complex kind of grief that I don’t think will ever go away. Adoption is a beautiful gift, but the emotional cost is heavy. In the end, I learned to have compassion for anyone who finds themselves at this crossroads.

If I can offer one piece of advice, when it comes to choosing between abortion or adoption, make the choice you can live it, because neither one is the easier choice.

We make thousands of decisions every day. Most of them go without any noticeable impact. This decision is the one that changed everything.