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Hours after delivery, I made my way to the nursery of the hospital where I had given birth determined to see my daughter. (The hospital staff knew I was planning on relinquishing her and I was put on a different floor than the other mothers). Looking longingly through the nursery window at the one lone child there being bottle fed by a nurse, I realized with a pang that was my daughter. I stood there with tears streaming down my face when the nurse looked up, saw me, and invited me in to the nursery, probably breaking all sorts of rules.
I got to spend several precious moments feeding my daughter, moments I will always cherish and for which I am very grateful.
I didn't even know I had a right to take my daughter home with me. Along with my other documents related to her adoption, I have a paper signed by me releasing her to the adoption agency, dated on the day after I delivered her. It was not a TPR document but it might as well have been.
I have no memories of signing that paper.
Believe it or not, this was 1982.
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