Growth and change... The first of the story

Well, for those of you who stay pretty connected with me, you know this has been a rocky adoption week.  The blog was private for a couple of days while I was getting more information on why in the world some total stranger would contact my agency and meddle in my personal situation.  I was told that the person (who is still unknown to me) was coming at it from an angle of "concern" for me.  I still maintain that it was completely inappropriate for someone to show "concern" for me by going behind my back, going to the agency first instead of to ME first, and jeopardizing an already delicate situation.  I will completely own the responsibility for writing on a public blog.  And I do have analytics, so I happen to know that my agency has been reading... I knew that before I got the call.  Just do me a favor, friends (and foes). I ask that if you disagree with me (and I know you will at times), please have enough compassion and decency to come to me personally, or respectfully join the discussion on the blog.  I welcome differing viewpoints as long as people keep it civil.   Afterall, the whole purpose of the blog is to facilitate discussion and give a voice to people who are often dismissed.  I stand behind what I believe.  But I am fair.  Please be fair to me.  And don't punch me in the gut in anonymity or in a passive aggressive way.  If you can't respect me, can you respect my family, my precious little girls, and my first daughter?  Because those are the people who were affected by your "concern" this week. 

With that said, I thought it might be a good time to explain a few things about where I started out and how I got to this point.  I was asked this week how I could go from being supportive of Bethany and speaking publicly for them to having a blog that talks about so much that I believe needs to be changed.  I think that is a very legitimate question and one that is worthy of a sincere response.  If you are going to be able to see where I am coming from now, you have to be able to see where I started out.  This may take a couple of posts so as not to bog you down completely in one sitting. :)

I grew up knowing about Bethany.  I grew up in the church and in a Christian home.  My church was very heavily involved with Bethany.  I knew people who adopted through Bethany, people who kept foster babies and who did interim care for Bethany, and people who opened their homes to women who were relinquishing through Bethany who needed a temporary place to stay.  I did not know anyone who had ever relinquished a child.  We regularly had "Sanctity of Life" Sunday each year, had elders in our church who were on the local Bethany Board, etc...  Bethany was always a very good thing in my mind.  So naturally, when I became pregnant right around my 17th birthday, it was THE place to go.  My parents were as lost as I was, and it was as if when we called Bethany, the cavalry was coming.  Help was on the way.  ( I promise I don't mean to sound like I am making light of this.  I am just spilling it all out, and this truly is how it was at the time.)  We, my mom and dad and I, had HOPE that they would help us sort through the possibilities.  Our heads were spinning, and we honestly were in a panic.  Well, my parents were in a panic.  And heartbroken.  Crushed.  I was humiliated by what I had done, the circumstances surrounding HOW I got pregnant (not ready to talk about that here) and basically scared out of my mind.  No, more like TERRIFIED.  I had just finished my junior year of high school and had taken Senior English in summer school.

My mom and I went to Bethany and talked with the person who had been there for years and years... someone beloved by our church and many families we knew.  She was a gentle woman, very kind and compassionate and calming.  We used up a lot of tissues in her office, but we breathed easy after we left.  We had more clarity.  I was only 8 weeks pregnant.  To this day, I truly believe that everything she said and did was from a heart that desired to help us and to show us the love of Christ.  Her heart was in her work, and she was a person of integrity.  She is now retired from Bethany.

Over the next few days after that appointment, my mom was on the phone with the Bethany office.  I was not involved in those conversations, but it was revealed to me soon after that the social worker and my parents believed I should not go through my pregnancy in my hometown.  Too many outside influences.  Too many people who would offer opinions and advice.  So... drum roll please...  I was going to go live in another city, one hundred miles away, and live with what Bethany called a shepherding family.  In a matter of a few weeks, it was all said and done... totally arranged... and I was packing my bags and driving my little red beretta down the freeway.  It didn't matter that I sobbed and begged and pleaded to PLEASE be able to stay at home.  I had no say in it.  Off I went.  I stayed in the other town the entire time I was pregnant, coming home only for a few days at Thanksgiving and then again at Christmas.  I am not usually a vulgar person, but frankly, it sucked.  Bigtime.  I had never felt so alone and in despair.  If I thought I was terrified when I learned I was pregnant, it was nothing compared to how I felt when I was sent away.  Oh, and I forgot... First we had to tell my church that I was pregnant, that I was remorseful, and that I was working with Bethany.  THEN I had to leave home.  Of course, at the time, it was explained to me that it would be better if we told the church all at one time instead of just letting people gossip and spread misinformation.  Actually, it was pretty much the most humilating thing that has ever happened to me, and separated my heart from the church for quite some time.  You have to understand that at age 17, when everyone is already so disappointed and so angry and so crushed that you have messed up so badly, all you want to do is make it go away.  Make it better.  Try to repair things.  Do what it takes to make your parents and the other adults in your life approve of you.  At least, that is how I was wired, but I'm getting off track...

I don't want to go into much detail about my time in the shepherding home.  I do remember a great deal about that time, but I honestly don't want to drag anyone else into my story at this point.  As lonely and debilitatingly painful as it was to be sent away, I do have to say that the mother in the home was the first person to ever question if I truly had a relationship with God.  Of course at the time, I couldn't have been more offended! LOL  But I do credit her with asking me some hard questions about spiritual things, and causing me to evaluate my heart... all the while being very angry with her! :)  I am not proud of that, but that is how I felt at the time.

While I lived in the home, I spent my days finishing my senior year of high school via correspondence and getting some college credits through the university in the town.  Ironically, this involvement with the university would help me years and years later when my husband and I moved back to that town, because everything was familiar to me.   Actually, I find it very, very sweet that the happiest memories of my life up to this point are in that town, because for years it contained my darkest moments and was a place of instant pain for me whenever I had to visit .  I believe it was God's tenderness with me and a personal gift that he gave out of love for me, but I'll talk more about that at another time.  In addition to finishing school and starting some college work, I had some responsibilities around the house (which were good for me) and I met regularly with my social worker.

I want to go into a lot more detail with that, but it is extremely late.  Like almost 3 am late.  And since I have two little kids, I don't have any business staying up any later. :)  But your eyes are tired by this point anyway.  I'll pick back up next time.