I wasn't ready for a child at nineteen. Honestly, I don't think many girls are ready at that age, especially when they are planning on going to college and who aren't even married. But life doesn't always go the way we planned and it ended up that way.
I don't believe in abortion, so that wasn't really an option, but I knew I wouldn't be able to take care of the child either. My mom said she would help, because she is nice like that, but I wouldn't want to put her through that again, especially when the child was mine. And so I did what I could. I gave the child to two parents who would love it.
It's hard letting go of something that had been inside you for ninth months. I would lie if I said I didn't have second thoughts about giving the child up for adoption, but in the end, my mind was made up. No matter the affection I felt for that child, I knew that I would not be able to give it all the love and care that it needed and that the couple, which I had met, would. I was there when they came to pick up the child, and I was happy for them, but at the same time I felt a little part of me leave. Never to return.