Your daughter is pregnant. It is not the joyous occasion you anticipated somewhere down the road, but a here-and-now reality. Your family feels wrung dry. You've run the gamut emotionally, passing through stages as predictable as those that accompany other crises: shock, sorrow, despair, even anger. The expectant parents are frightened and bewildered (even though they may put up a brave front), and are asking you for reassurance and solutions.

Soon you dry your tears and face the question which looms on the horizon like a thunderhead. How can you help your daughter make a wise decision so that both her life and the life of the baby will reach their full potential?

Like most pregnant teens, my daughter was ill-equipped for motherhood. Only 16 and a junior in high school, she had no skills and no chance of finding meaningful employment. Having just joined the work force, I found myself unwilling to give up a challenging job and step into the role of "back-up Mom" while she finished high school. Which left us with one other choice. Hesitantly, I raised the subject of adoption.

"I can't do it," she sobbed. "How can I give my baby away to strangers and never see it again?" My tears joined hers. Neither of us could imagine such a thing.

Then by luck or magic or twist of fate, we heard from a friend about a different kind of adoption, an open process where the birth parents and the adopting parents were not strangers but friends, a team working together. My daughter smiled for the first time in days and said she'd like to know more. We contacted an open adoption agency and made an appointment.

Before I knew it, my daughter had found the "perfect couple" to raise her child. They hit it off immediately and began the bonding process, which took like super glue.

Suddenly I was reduced to the role of third wheel, which aroused only feelings of euphoria and gratitude as a huge weight eased off my shoulders. The thunderheads on the horizon had been transformed into rainbows. But as I soon learned, I should not have put my umbrella away so quickly, for the critics and prophets of doom were about to dump buckets on our parade.

Enter my daughter's peer group gooing and cooing about how cute babies are and how much fun. Boy, if they were pregnant they would never never give their very own baby away to people they didn't even know. Brushing aside explanations of how the open process works, they tried to convince my daughter that "those people" were just being nice so she would hand over her kid. Fortunately, the glue bonding my daughter to "her couple," along with the trust she felt for her counselor, proved stronger than advice from flaky friends. There are many girls who are not so lucky. In fact, the majority of pregnant teens keep their babies. Adoption is not the "in" thing to do.

For the rest of the world, adoption (the old-fashioned kind) is still considered the best solution to one of life's stickiest problems. Most think the new, open forum is irresponsible, crazy, dumb, risky, plus an assortment of other uncomplimentary adjectives. At first, I was angry and resentful that others could not see the wisdom of my daughter's choice, that they offered not encouragement, but criticism.

"How can you allow someone else to raise your own grandchild? After all, it's your flesh and blood."

"Did you daughter really want to do this?"

"It will be too confusing for the baby, having two sets of parents, plus all the grandparents, aunts and uncles."

"It's too risky. If the birth mother knows where her baby is, she can just go and get it."

"How can a birth mother get her life back together if she is still connected to her baby? She should put the experience behind her, forget about the baby and move forward."

"What happens when the baby grows up to be a teenager and gets angry with the adoptive parents and wants to run away and live with the birth mother?"

In the beginning, I was very much on the defensive as I answered the critics, hoping, I suppose, to win converts. But then I realized that open adoption is no different from any other controversial issue. Some will say "yea" and some will say "nay."

The older generation I found to be mostly on the nay" side of the fence while the younger, more liberal minded were apt to say, "how interesting, tell me more." My husband, who travels around the country in his job, learned that in certain localities where the words "teenage pregnancy" still cause shock waves, it was prudent to remain mum about our open adoption saga. Even family members whom you count on to be supportive in times of crisis may surprise you with their negative reaction. My mother, who learned of our family crisis after the fact and over the long distance telephone, thought I was making up stories to get attention.

"What crazy stuff is Mary talking about?" she asked my father. "Adoptions can't be open. I don't believe a word."

I reasoned that my mother was elderly and in failing health and was not able to embrace new concepts, but what excuse could I offer for my brother-in-law's reaction? The father of two adopted children, he scoffed at the notion of the parties involved in an adoption knowing each other, liking each other, perhaps even forging bonds. "How can a child know who he is with all those extra people cluttering up the landscape?" he asked. I had no ready answer, just a deep conviction that a child's life could only be enriched by the love and support of those "extra people."

My brother-in-law declared adamantly and self-righteously that his two adopted children, a son and daughter, were not the least bit interested in the "real" parents. I would win no converts here. But life sometimes takes unexpected turns. When my niece Vicki was 25, she decided to do something about the unfinished business in her life. "I can't go forward until I know where I've been," she told me. "I'm going to find my birth parents." She contacted a adoption registry and, to her joy, found that her birth mother had also begun to search. They met in London and talked non-stop for two days. When Vicki returned home and broke the news her parents, they offered their full support and, in fact, phoned birth mother Kay , inviting her to be guest in their home on an upcoming visit. "You're in the middle of an open adoption," I teased my brother-in-law. "Even if you did arrive by the back door."

This year, my granddaughter will celebrate her 7th birthday. My husband and I cherish our roles as grandparents to this lively child and her sister, also part of another open adoption. My daughter finished high school and junior college, married a terrific guy and is now a preschool teacher. She says that giving her daughter up for adoption was the hardest thing and the best thing she ever did. She thanks me for hanging tough and keeping her focused. That was the hardest and best thing I ever did.

Your pregnant daughter is looking to you to strength and support. Don't clutter up this landscape with unsolicited advice from friends, family or the man on the street. Remember, you are an intelligent, informed person. You did not pluck the concept of a open adoption out of thin air. You and your daughter, with the help of professionals in the field, have explored the "whys" and "wherefores" and the "what ifs." Don't explain or defend your decision. The "nay sayers" never listen anyway.

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