The next nine months were filled with wonder and pain; the wonder of new life blossoming within me and my painful conclusion that adoption was the best choice I could make for both my child and me.

Amanda Grace was born after two days of slow and painful labor. I was terribly scared. My beacon of light through it all was my dear older sister, who stayed with me and encouraged me throughout the entire labor. The instant they laid my daughter in my arms, I felt whole again. I held her only a few minuets before we both were whisked away, I to recovery, she to the nursery.

During my hospital stay, I rocked and held my sweet girl. The head nursery nurse, who had herself given up her son for adoption twenty years before, was a great comfort to me. When I went home, Amanda stayed in the hospital for several days. I went back to see her once, and I have never seen her again. She went to a foster home for several weeks before signing adoption papers. During that time I cried and wrestled with my important decision.

One of my most heart-wrenched experiences occurred the day I came home from the hospital. I had been given pills to dry up my milk, but they didn't work. That night as I was getting ready for bed, my breasts suddenly became very hot and tender and milk flowed down my body. I broke down in tears, because I knew that my milk should be nourishing my little baby girl.

I almost decided to keep her, because the pain of giving her up seemed too great for me to bear. But I realized that although her birth had changed things, the reasons I had for giving her up for adoption had not changed. I believe children need both a mother and a father, and I believe children need to be at home with their mother. I also wanted her to have brothers and sisters. I come from a family of seven girls, and I treasure my relationship with each and every one of them. The social worker that had counseled me before and after my pregnancy knew what I wanted for my daughter. The couple who adopted her had an adopted son who was two at the time, and the mother was at home with them. I knew a little about them, but not their names, and I never met them. I also don't know the name they have given her. I received several pictures of my baby from the foster mother, and the adoptive parents wrote me a letter. I wrote them a letter too and one for my daughter to read when she is older.

My parents were very supportive throughout my pregnancy and afterwards. My father and I have never been close, but the birth of Amanda Grace changed that. When he saw her, my father called her Amazing Grace. The day I came home from the hospital he and I sat on the couch. He held me tightly and rocked me while I cried. The memory of that moment still brings tears to my eyes.

My decision was the hardest one I ever made. I loved my little girl with all my heart, and I wanted to do the very best I could for her. The say I signed the adoption papers a heavy burden was lifted from my heart. I knew that I had done the right thing. Each day, the pain lessened a tiny bit. Each year when the New Year begins, my heart gets heavy with the realization that my daughter is growing up and I'm not there to see it. But painful as my decision was, I have no regrets that I chose to give birth to my daughter.

Today I am married to a wonderful man, and we have a daughter who is almost four. I am able to be a mother at home with her. I loved being a wife and a mother. The life I am living now convinces me even more than ever that my decision to give up my daughter for adoption was the right one. The look that my husband Wally and my daughter Jane Emily have for each other is a joy to see, and I know, as the years go by the importance of her father in her life will become more and more evident. And I know that she is the sweet, smart, loving child she is at least in part due to having her mother at home.

Elizabeth writes from her home in Maryland.