I gave birth to a daughter when I was 17 and placed her for adoption that very same day. For the next 15 years, the weight of that decision followed me everywhere. Years later, I married a man who had an adopted daughter. I assumed the connection I felt with her was only coincidence… until she took a DNA test for fun.
I was 17 when she was born. A baby girl. Seven pounds, two ounces, delivered on a Friday morning in February at the general hospital.
