By Brittany Hudson, Founder of 4TheLoveofAlex.org
I sat in a cramped, overstuffed nurse’s office with clammy hands as we went over the information in front of her.
I had discovered two months earlier that I was pregnant, but when excessive bleeding and cramping sent me to the emergency room, I was hoping that I had somehow avoided an unintended pregnancy. I was referred to my doctor for a follow-up and an ultrasound the next day.
The simple test revealed a fluttering heartbeat and what seemed to be a very healthy little life resting in my womb. My doctor smiled at the monitor as I cried. I really didn’t want to go through this.
I was still swimming in grief over the loss of my husband just 10 short months earlier. My lapse in judgment over seeking comfort in the arms of another man turned into the trial of my life within the trial of my life. How could this be happening?
My doctor scheduled another appointment for me to meet with his nurse to go over my options. The time between visits gave me time to think it through.
She sat there and consoled me as I cried. When I rallied, she started talking. “Are you going to keep your baby or are you going to terminate the pregnancy?”
My mind spun with her statement. How could the same thing change terminology within the same sentence, simply depending on my ‘choice’? How did a baby become something that I could just dispose of?
I wish I was a fly on the wall for what came next. “No, I am seeking adoption for this child.” I said, looking down at her paperwork. I watched her face go chalky as she drummed her fingers on the desk. She slowly turned her chair around to the rack of information behind her, knowing she didn’t have anything to offer me. Her sighing told me what I already knew. I was on my own.
“I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have anything for you to take. I have never been in this situation before. Why don’t you go on the internet and see if you can find an agency in the area.” Her nervousness came through her voice as she tried to avoid direct eye contact with me. I left her office after a few exchanges and a follow-up appointment scheduled.
I left with nothing but a card with a date on it.
The internet seemed daunting. Who was reputable? Who was in my area? I didn’t know anyone who had gone through this before. Could I trust an agency? What if they wanted to make me sign something right away? What are my rights?
I found a site and read what they had to say, but I then discovered I was at least 14 hours from their nearest location. They referred me to Bethany Christian Services, where I called and left a message for someone to return my calls. I then prayed to God that I wouldn’t be lied to or talked into something I wasn’t ready for.
Facing the fact that I was pregnant was hard enough. Even though I knew what I wanted to do, I also know that it would have made a world of difference to have someone who knew me come alongside to tell me about what I’d decided before I had to launch headlong into a dialogue with an adoption agency.
I wished the nurse had known as much about choosing to parent and parenting through adoption as she had about abortion. It would have eased my mind and helped curb my fears.
My adoption went just fine. In fact, it went as well as I could have hoped, even though it was very difficult to go through.
The things I’ve learned for myself, and the experiences I went through have come together to form a ministry for the woman who chooses adoption for her unborn child. I give these women what I wished I had—a listening ear, independent guidance, direction, and the very real hope of restoration in Christ in the midst of an unintended pregnancy.
The women I’ve mentored so far have all come from agencies who see the value in coupling an expectant mother with a birthmother who has lived the experience of an unintended pregnancy for herself.
There is peace in being able to relate to someone and help them see there is a life after the trial. It is my joy to see that God uses the most painful things in life to create something beautiful. And He does so wonderfully.