What It’s Like to Go through Pregnancy with an Adoptive Mother by Your Side

The following is adapted from Finding Hope.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was a twenty-one-year-old college student, supporting myself while living with my parents in Minnesota. I knew that I wasn’t ready to raise a child, so I opted for an open adoption. I met (and even lived with) my son’s adoptive mother before he was born, and I knew it was the right decision for my son’s life at the time.

I had already combed through thousands of adoption books and found the most amazing adoptive mother. She was confident, successful, and generous, and I knew she would take amazing care of the baby. We talked regularly, and one day, when the long work days were getting to me, my son’s mother suggested I come live with her in California. 

It was always going to be an open adoption, but ours began a little more open than most. I moved across the country and spent the final two months of my pregnancy living with my son’s mother. It was unorthodox, but there were significant benefits to that decision. It was the right choice for me, and because of those benefits, I would even encourage other birthmothers to keep an open mind and consider the option. 

The Legal and Financial Benefits

When I moved from Minnesota to California to live with my son’s mother, I went straight to my attorney’s office. We’d been talking via phone and email, but we needed to meet in person to discuss process and paperwork. My son’s mother and I had agreed that she would pay my bills while I was there and for two months after I gave birth. We had also agreed I would get a $200 per week stipend to live on, which is standard in adoption in some states. I was lucky that she lived in California, where birthmothers have some rights; in some states, they don’t have as many.

The assistance with bills was important to me because I fully supported myself. I was putting myself through college by working at a bar, so before I was pregnant, I was always working. As my pregnancy advanced, it became difficult to manage all that physical labor, and eventually, I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to do the work that, previously, had paid my bills. My son’s adoptive mother was a very understanding person, but I think it took a while for her to truly understand how much her financial assistance meant to me. She came from a different background, and she had a successful career before deciding to adopt a child. Her circumstances were completely different from mine. 

Once, I commented on how expensive something was, and we actually had a conversation about why I needed the financial support while there. It was a watershed moment; I felt like she understood me more then. The financial assistance she gave me during my pregnancy ensured that the baby and I were fed, happy, and healthy. 

A Feeling of Closeness

When we were thousands of miles apart, I’d been telling her about every doctor’s appointment, sending her ultrasound pictures—everything. We had had long meetings over the phone, hashing out the details of the birth and the after-birth logistics, but it was really difficult to have all those conversations long-distance.

Once I was in California, we were able to tackle all those things together. For example, we toured Cedars-Sinai Medical Center and discussed all our options. Did we want to be in the same room or conjoining rooms? Did we want a doula? For every consideration, we’d sit down and talk about it together. Logistically, this made everything easier, but it also helped us develop a relationship of mutual understanding. Because she saw me every day, my son’s mother had the chance to feel like she was a part of the pregnancy, birth, and earliest phases of her son’s life. 

Being close to her also gave me the emotional support I needed. The first part of my pregnancy had been difficult. Some members of my family had taken the news well, but others had been combative or hurt, and my family dynamics were fraught. Many of my friends and some of my family didn’t even know I was pregnant, and I had little communication with anyone back home. As my pregnancy entered its final stages, I was craving comfort, understanding, and support. 

My son’s adoptive mother was able to provide all of that. There were many times that she went out of her way to understand my situation and make sure I had everything I needed. We’d lay on the floor for hours and watch Orange Is the New Black. We walked the dog every day. While she was at work, I’d stay home—very pregnant—or walk to the mall. When she got home, she’d often ask if I wanted to go to my favorite cookie spot, Magnolia’s. At all times, she wanted me to be fed, happy, and comfortable. I felt safe and protected in a way that I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t decided to move in with her. 

Feeling Secure About My Son’s Future

When I lived with my son’s mother before my baby was born, she made me feel like a real extension of her life. When she went to the salon, I went to the salon. When she went to lunch or to a dinner party, I went, too. She sought not only to include me, but to help me build my own life.

Those experiences, and seeing her consideration, care, and character, gave me a real sense of what my son’s life was going to be like. I got to see his mother, day-in and day-out. She wasn’t just a voice on the end of a telephone line or a photograph in an adoption book. She was a flesh-and-blood person with admirable traits and flaws. Getting to know her convinced me, more than ever, that she was meant to be the mother of my son. 

Years later, when I see my son on my visits, I am secure in the fact that she is an amazing mother. But I could have told you that she would be, even before he was born. 

It Wasn’t Always Easy, but It Was Worth It

The picture I’m painting here may sound rosy, and in many ways, it was. But it wasn’t always easy. Of course, there were days when the situation hit me, like the day we had a baby shower at the famous Chateau Marmont. 

My main memory of the event was feeling overwhelmed. I knew my son’s mother cared about me, and she worked to make the shower about me, too. Everyone toasted both of us. Her friends and family checked in on me several times throughout the night, simply asking if I was okay.

Was I okay? Not really.

Of course, I felt joy because I saw firsthand how much love my baby would have in his life. Still, part of me was breaking: all this celebrating of someone else gaining a child—but, for that to happen, I had to lose one. 

We Are a Village

Those melancholy moments were natural, and I was dealing with them for years to come, but through all that pain and all hardship, I still wouldn’t trade those months that I spent with my son’s mother. The point of moving in with her was that I wanted to bring my son into a situation where I knew his new family would not only love him and take care of him, but wouldn’t be strangers to him. Or to me. 

We aren’t strangers. We are a village—a village that loves and cares for the little boy that I brought into the world. We worked together in those two months to make life easier legally, financially, logistically, and emotionally. We built a firm foundation during that time, and those connections have spanned the years since. Looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

For more advice on open adoption, you can find Finding Hope on Amazon.

After placing her newborn son for adoption in 2013, Hope O Baker struggled with depression, addiction, and overcoming the stigma that surrounds birthmothers. In her first book, Finding Hope: A Birthmother’s Journey Into the Light, she shares her story of a successful, open adoption—and all the heartache and light that came along the way. Hope is a passionate advocate for those on all sides of adoption. You can find her online at HopeOBaker.com or follow her on Instagram at @HopeOBaker. Hope visits her son regularly, and she currently lives with her loving partner and her wonderful stepkids.