It was the year 2010. I was 19 and had just completed my freshman year of college when I found out I was pregnant. To say I was scared would be an understatement. I didn’t want to believe it! How could this be happening to me? I was a good kid. I grew up in a conservative family, was active in our community, and even sang in the worship band at church. I knew better! Or so I thought.
The moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew adoption was the right option for me. I was not prepared to be a mother and I wanted my daughter to be raised by a mother and father who love each other. I wanted her to have the life and opportunities I would not be able to provide her. My decision to place never wavered during my pregnancy. I was confident in my decision and even more so when we chose my birth daughter’s amazing adoptive family. But regardless of how easy my pregnancy seemed, I felt very numb to the experience. It was almost too much for me to handle and I immediately built up barriers to protect me from further harm. I remember telling my pregnancy counselor over and over, “I just want to feel normal again.” I didn’t want to accept the fact that I had a new normal.
I officially moved back home from college to spend my sophomore year taking online classes and handle my pregnancy in the comfort of my hometown. Most of the friends I made my freshman year were completely unaware of my pregnancy because I told them I was moving back home to focus on school. My best friend didn’t even know about my pregnancy until I was about six months along. I was blessed with a few close friends in town who knew about my pregnancy and loved on me but I still felt very isolated. I hid indoors most days, too afraid to even go get the mail from the front yard for fear someone would see me. I wore sweaters and scarves if I did leave the house to hide the ever-growing baby bump. Deny, deny, deny.
The day we left the hospital was very surreal. It felt like a strange dream. I left empty-bellied and empty-handed. I walked down the hallway with tears streaming down my exhausted face thinking I was never going to stop crying. Luckily, I did stop crying but not because I was at peace with my decision, but because the trauma I experienced convinced me that what I had experienced wasn’t so bad and I should just get over it. See, that’s the tricky thing about trauma, it belittles your experience and pain and because of that, I avoided seeking help. I didn’t think I needed it.
I moved back to college to continue my education just a couple of months after giving birth because I was so focused on feeling normal again. I wanted to pretend that that last year didn’t happen. Adjusting back into college life proved to be much more difficult than I originally thought. I had changed, dynamics had changed, my friends had new friends and despite having opened up to more people about my adoption, I still felt like the black sheep and I blamed everyone else. Once again, trauma was lying to me.
I grew more jaded throughout the years and my relationships with my friends and family were strained. I struggled to stay on top of my school work and I was not taking care of myself properly. I didn’t think my “problems” were a product of my trauma, which in turn, prolonged my denial and healing even more. During this time, I spoke at many birth mom panels and events alike but never bothered to participate in support groups or seek more help. My life continued on this way but things started looking up during the spring of 2015. I finally graduated from college and seemed to be getting my head on straight but I still had a hard time allowing myself to be completely vulnerable about my adoption. Unbeknownst to me, I was still harboring a lot of guilt and shame.
Fast forward to the fall of 2018, almost eight years post-placement, when I attended a dinner specifically held for birth mothers. That was the first time I had ever been in a room full of birth moms and I left that dinner completely changed. It’s like a light went off and all of a sudden the fog started to clear. I was so inspired by the women I had met at that dinner and their confidence and I wanted that! So I decided to make that change. I decided to accept my new normal. I chose to no longer carry that shame or guilt anymore. I admitted to myself that what I had experienced was in fact trauma and I’m slowly learning to undo the lies my trauma has been telling me all these years. I’m seeking out support from other birth mothers and I’m actively getting more involved in the adoption community.
I know I am just at the beginning stages of my healing process but I have done more healing in the past seven months than I have in the seven years prior. I realize now that I didn’t classify my experience as trauma because I was the one who made the choice to place my daughter for adoption and didn’t think it was “worthy” of that title. I wish I had found community sooner but I respect my journey and I wouldn’t be the person and advocate I am today had I not struggled to keep my head above water. Now that I am bringing myself back from the deep end, I can throw the life vest to others in need. I love my adoption story, even the ugly bits and I have the adoption community to thank for that. I encourage anyone who is struggling to reach out. Share your story with someone new. Don’t deny your experience simply because it doesn’t look like someone else’s. Rely on your community, we weren’t designed to do life alone.
Jessie Mattos is a birth mom from Orlando, Florida, who has a passion for people, really good chicken wings and will be the first to tell you when you have something in your teeth (in the nicest way possible). She’s married to her best friend, Gabe, and is a stay at home mom to their 18-month-old boy, Gabriel. She is a University of Florida alumna and has been known to cut a rug or two. Jessie is the type of friend who will never leave your side and when she’s not spending time with her family, she loves to explore her hometown and immerse herself in the flavors of the city. Although she’s been a birth mom for eight years, Jessie is just now finding her voice and her “people” within the adoption community and hopes to use this platform to remind others they’re not alone.
MargueriteBeautiful, Jesse.
Elsa NavarroWhat a great great story as a distant relative I never would have imagined you could have experienced something as life changing as this. This article definitely sounds like a lot of healing within took place by the action you took to seek help; the baby step to many of our different hurts in life that can take place or might have taken place. Blessings as you help others find help for their pain. With love!!!!