To the girl making the hardest decision of her life,

I’m not going to say I understand what you’re going through because, let’s be honest: I have no clue. Are you scared? Alone? Embarrassed? Worried about what everyone at school will think? What about your education? Where’s the father? Are y’all on good terms or is he the monster who haunts your night terrors causing you to wake up screaming?

Like I said, I have never been in your shoes but, me and your unborn child share more than you could ever understand. Twenty years ago, my own mother was in your shoes: pregnant, young and afraid. I was a result of one night with some guy at a party who still, to this day, I can’t even find on Facebook. She was bright, beautiful, and had opportunities throwing themselves at her, but three minutes later, two pink lines meant one thing and because of her decisions you’re reading this today.  I’m not sure if abortion ever crossed her mind.  I would assume that she thoroughly considered every option; however, change a few letters in abortion and you have the word adoption… but, I have life.

Because my biological mother decided to have me, I have two amazing parents who would give up the world for me.  They’ve remodeled my bedroom fifteen times in the last nineteen years.  You know whenever I decided I was too “grown up” for Lizzie McGuire, Winnie the Pooh, Hello Kitty or that I no longer wanted to be a princess, cowgirl, or gymnast. They have selflessly loved me through all of my awkward phases and hormone-filled temper tantrums with patience and grace. As a family, we have danced around the living room to cheesy pop songs a few too many times and still do regularly. None of which they could’ve experienced without my biological mother’s blessing as they were a barren couple.

Because my biological mother experienced the… ahem… “joy” of morning sickness, I was able to experience my first steps, my first bike ride, my first crush, my first cheer tryout, my first trip out of the country, my first kiss my first semester of college, and even my first fried twinkie.  I’ve also been blessed to have my first fall, my first rejection, my first heartbreak, my first broken bone, my first week of grounding, and my first death of a close friend.  The good, the bad, the ugly- None of which you can experience once you’ve been ripped apart— limb by limb.

Because my biological mother experienced the sideways glances of strangers captivated by the size 00 girl with a belly the size of a beach ball, I’ve fallen head over heels in love with life.  I adore the wind playing with my hair when my windows are down. I’m obsessed with the feeling of little hands wrapping around my pinkie as if I am all they will ever need.  I cannot begin to express my affection for getting lost in a good book to hide from the world and that ten page paper I need to write—a trait I’m told I get from my biological mother. You never get to fall in love when your fate is (vacuum) sealed.

Because my biological mother chose adoption, I now share bright blue eyes, long eyelashes, a love for learning, a minor heart defect, and the inability to grow past five foot one with the most selfless human being I’ve ever met.  I can never thank her enough for all she has done for me.  From the day she gave me up to the day we met on my sixteenth birthday and every day since, her decision has changed my life.

So I am begging you while you make this decision—Think through all the options, because it’s not only your life that you’re changing with this decision.


The Non-Aborted Conservative