I became pregnant in November 1973, I was 16. I was in denial for quite a while. Once my mother found out I was on the train to the city, I don't think I even knew where I was going, after a blur of doctor and social worker appointments, I ended up at the home for unmarried mothers in Grattan Street Carlton. I went into labour in August 1974. I remember my waters breaking but do not remember giving birth. I remember 'coming to' I had pillows piled on my stomach. I have since read that this was to stop you seeing your baby. Since accessing my medical records I discovered that I was given drugs due to my distressed state, no wonder I didn't remember! I was put in a ward with 3 other women who had also given birth. They had babies to hold and feed and love, all I had was a broken heart! I wasn't allowed to see my son, let alone hold him. My Mum told me I was to put it behind me, get on with my life and it would never be mentioned again! After telling my future husband my story and reliving the pain and heartbreak, I told him I never wanted to speak about it again. I now realise that this was a mistake! I lived 37 years of my life feeling ashamed! I believed that I didn't have the right to interfere in my son’s life. On October 29th 2011 I received a phone call from my son. After not allowing myself to think about him for so many years, I find that he is constantly on my mind. I still have days where I feel emotional and feel a need to hold him.
My mother assures me it was not a forced adoption! But I was not given a choice. I lived 37 years of my life feeling ashamed!