RePOST Brittany's Struggles part 1

This is a repost as I feel since things have gone so far awry with my daughter, wanted to remind myself of where I've been.

BRITTANY'S STRUGGLES part 1

This is my girl Brittany, who is now a whopping 17 years old. It's hard to imagine. I am proud of this picture because she looks so grown up and I've passed it around to family members.

Brittany's struggle began probably from when she was born and I am proud to say she has done so well in the past few years. I have to admit, this might not have been the case had I not made the ultimate of sacrifices.

I was 23 and pregnant by a man(I use the term loosely) who when I informed him of his impending fatherhood, stated that he was already married with 2 children. Hmm. I guess to me, it was a blessing. I'd had no relationship with this man. Yes, I never questioned my sexuality at the time, but knew I was looking for something...a brick to fall on my head, something that would just excite me. Then I would know what everyone was talking about. I knew this man, like all the others, was not it. But now I had to face it and make life altering decisions. The thought of having a life inside me, was thrilling...I had a chance to make something happen. Enter the family....

I was living and working for a man that was my best friend inside and out. He'd known me since I was 19. His name was Tony, an older gay man who took care of his elderly mother. I was living in a room in the back of his house, taking care of his mother while he worked. This is where I met Brittany's father, whose name also happened to be Tony. I'll call him TonyS. He made the moves on me one afternoon while I was steadily involved with some wine coolers. TonyS and I worked in shifts taking care of Tony's mother. Confusing?

My family consisted of both my grandmothers who lived there in town. Both of my grandfathers had died earlier that year. All of my family was not happy about the news, of course, because I was not married and it looked bad. This was 1988...not the 50s. Though on my father's side, everyone had been divorced more than once, my aunt would end up to be divorced 3 times and my father is on his 3rd marriage. So glad that doesn't look bad. My father's mother, Millie, I was closest to. She was not thrilled to say the least. Neither was my father and stepmother. I wrote a letter to my mother telling her the news. She wrote back saying I should get an abortion as "that baby didn't ask to be born." I thought, what baby does? I didn't believe in abortions for something I did all on my own. I still don't. No one in my family spoke to me for quite awhile. Until my stepmother talked to me about what my plans were. It had tortured my mind, but inside I had planned to keep the baby. She showed me what a struggle it would be and talked to me about adoption. So after much thought, deliberation and weighing out the good and bad...I decided she was right. I went looking for someone to adopt my baby.

Searching through the paper, I found an ad from a couple looking to adopt. So I wrote and called. I found a couple. All I still know about them to this day is that their names were Debbi and John and they lived around White Plains, New York. John was a vice president of a bank and Debbi was in some kind of marketing/advertising. They'd been married for 10 years. They called me and I felt an instant connection to them, especially Debbi. A few times of talking, they decided to go with me, compared to others who had called/written. Debbi told me later that the other women/girls had some kind of drug background.

Of course, once I announced this decision, everyone in my family was happy. Suddenly, they were all so proud of me. It taught me that if you do what they want, they love you. And so, I had decided to give my baby up for adoption.

Coming soon....Part 2