The Heart of a Mother

by Julie Clark

My goal was to make sure my daughter could find me if she wanted to.

Everyone always talks about a woman’s right to choose, but when you’re sixteen and pregnant, there isn’t much choice.

Forbidden from knowing any of the terms surrounding the adoption. It’s for your own good, and it’s what’s best for the baby.

There’s an emotional toll to carrying a baby, giving birth to them, and then giving them away. It eats away at you. The idea of your child out there, not knowing you . . . it’s soul crushing.

Choosing adoption as the only alternate happy ending to abortion is a fallacy, because giving up a child is a trauma that happens not only to you but to your child as well.

Perhaps a lonely childhood where books felt like her only friends?

I wanted nothing more than to listen to her talk.

If you can’t be honest with her about who you are, the respectful thing is to back away.”

“Do you really have her now?” he asked gently. When I didn’t answer, he said, “The only way to move forward is to do a total reset.

From then on, I showered every day. I dressed in real clothes. I returned phone calls. I went out to dinner with David and his colleagues and smiled at jokes. Day by day, I felt a little looser, as if my joints had finally unstuck. I went on long walks and listened to podcasts about mindfulness.

Parents often had to grapple with tough decisions, doing things their kids might not like because in the long run, it was in their best interests.

The betrayal was sharp, though a voice deep inside whispered that perhaps I had gotten what I deserved. This was her punishment for abandoning her as a baby. For stalking her and lying to her. There had never been any forgiveness, only anger and retribution.

Some people might call this an obsession. But perhaps, in some ways, that’s what unconditional love really is.