July 28th, 2011
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Olson FamilyWe have all heard the words before ‘you are just like your mother’ or ‘you are your father’s son’. When you hear those words said it is usually meant to be a compliment, right? Well, in my world it was quite the opposite, to hear ‘you are turning out like your mother’ meant I had done something terribly wrong…those words still send shooting pains to my stomach. So you can imagine that when I found out I was pregnant, out of wedlock, I anticipated those words rolling off the lips of my father. To my shock he didn’t even mention it, in fact he didn’t have much to say at all.


Over the course of my pregnancy my father and step-mother seemed to turn a blind eye and operate like I was not pregnant and a bit invisible. Looking back I suppose their lack of communication with me made my decision just that ‘my decision’ and not clouded. Although home was uncomfortable my relationship with my unborn child’s soon to be parents was blossoming. They were very interested in making sure I was doing ok, that I was healthy, and had everything I needed. They were going through all the motions with securing an adoption agency that worked across states, being cleared by FBI and everyone else (so evasive!!) and preparing their home. (Did you know there is a drug that will help you develop milk to breast feed? She started this and was getting amazing results in preparation for a newborn). I was blessed enough to land a job that offered full coverage health insurance so I received the best possible care available, which isn’t always the case in these situations. My relationship with my forever man was blossoming as well, he was my rock and experienced the entire pregnancy with me, including the cravings of pizza and chinese food. When I met the adoptive parents for the first time it was actually with my boyfriend and his parents, not my own. His parents were more accepting to the situation than anyone, they supported the adoption, and more importantly supported the fact that their son was dating someone who just turned 18 and was pregnant. That was huge and spoke volumes to the kind of people they were/are.

Nine months seemed to take an eternity. I have to be honest, it was difficult. I gained 75lbs on top of my already Freshman 30, ha! But, I also was dealing with the loss already, I was sad that I would be parting with this child growing so peacefully in my belly. Don’t get me wrong, I was not wavering on my decision I was starting to grieve…secretly. I knew that God planned it this way and that He would reward me for the good deed with a family of my own some day. I think I was starting to grow up, after all these were pretty adult like scenarios I was experiencing so I had no other choice. I tried to stay focused over my pregnancy and tried to operate as though life was as it should be and to not depress myself with the fact that I was not able to carry on with college since I needed a job to support myself now. I tried to pretend I was not getting judgmental stares by others as I was in public. I tried to pretend that my heart was ready to carry more pain.

I remember my last doctor’s appointment very clearly. My OBGYN was a sweet lady who would ask me subtle questions at every visit. This last visit she shed tears over my situation and the adoption because she had begun to connect with me. My visit with her was just enough to send my body into labor in the wee hours of the following morning. I called my boyfriend, who was living with his parents, his father answered and with his sweet genuine concern for me asked me if it was ‘time’ as he ran to give the phone to his son. It indeed was time. I tried to keep myself busy while waiting for him to drive the 20 minutes to pick me up, I made my bed, packed a bag and tried to calm my racing heart. I tip-toed up the stairs to not wake my father and step-mother and off I went. It still saddens me that I didn’t feel that I could go wake my father and ask for a ride to the hospital. My boyfriend arrived and we went and checked into the hospital then we called the soon to be parents, one hopped on a plane in order to not miss the delivery, and one hopped in a car with all the baby necessities that they had awaiting this precious little one.

Nothing could prepare me for the hours of labor that I was about to endure. I honestly don’t even want to recall how many of them there actually were! All I know is the pain was immense, I can still hear myself screaming. By time I received an epidural they realized there was something wrong with the baby’s heart beat and we needed to deliver, NOW. He was already in the birth canal so c-section was not an option and the cord was wrapped around his neck (which isn’t uncommon). My doctor arrived as did the soon to be Mom. It was time. The epidural completely paralyzed my right side so when the doctor yelled at me to push I felt nothing, I couldn’t even tell if I was pushing. The heart beat was dropping more. She pulled out a device called the vacuum…broke the first…the second failed. Pulled out the forceps as a nurse straddled my chest to push on my stomach another grabbed the waist of the doctor and they pulled with all their might. He was finally out and could take a breath, he was going to be ok. The new crying happy Mom left with him as the doctors finished their work on me. I glanced to the end of the bed and to my horror was mass amounts of blood, I look to the floor and there was more. What had happened to me? My body had been broken! It took 155 stitches to repair the damage of birth which also gave me a broken tailbone. I was shocked and in horrible pain which took months to diminish. I remember just sobbing and biting my pillow begging for the pain medicine to just take some of it away. All I could think of was the new parents were tucked away in another room with their precious little baby, examining his fingers, toes, nose, little ears, and sounds. Fulfilling their hearts and completing their family made this pain bearable. My boyfriend stayed with me in the hospital that night and we got a visit from Will, they named him Will. Till this day I always repeat in my head ‘His Will be done’.

I had given birth to new life.

We have maintained an open adoption and I can’t wait to share more of the joys with you. Until then my friend, count your blessings!

As for where I stand today, I am proud to call myself a birth-mother, wife (yes to my forever man), mommy (God gave me 3 more boys!), and children’s book author (hoping one day I will touch you and yours).

~ Denise

One Response to “Giving Birth to New Life: Part 2”

  1. rasa77 says:

    Wow, what a story. It brought tears to my eyes.

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