Facing my own demons

adoption, adoption loss, life,

How to tear apart a family….

The day came to sign the papers. Someone from CPS picked me up, so I wouldn’t have to take the city bus. They were OH, so helpful.

I was told I would get to see Little R and L that day to say good bye. I was told that I should try hard not to cry in front of them. Not to let them know I was sad and to tell them that I couldn’t take care of them, so I was going to let some nice people take them and love them and they would have a new family to love. This was supposed to make it easier on them to adapt to their new family.

I was also promised that everything in their power would be done to make sure the girls were not separated. That they were sure that they could find them a great adoptive family that would accept both girls. This was a very important issue to me. They only had each other left now, they had to be allowed to stay together. Oh yes, promises were made!

 (I had no idea for years how they lied right then and there to my face. I didn’t know that the girls had already been separated in foster care, even though they did get to visit each other. Nor did I know that both sets of foster parents had already been told they could adopt each of my girls very soon! Nor did I know, that while it was suggested that the girls be allowed to have contact after adoption, it was not required and L’s new parents would severe her contact from her older sister shortly after the adoptions were finalized. I had no idea of any of this until I heard it from R’s adopted mother years later, when R was a teenager.)

I was taken into this room at the offices. I can’t remember much about it, except it was all one color. I can’t remember the color, but I remember it was all one color, the carpet, and the walls, same color. So strange. It contained a couple of straight back chairs and off to the side was some toys laying on the floor. Maybe the toys were blocks or something like that, I’m not sure.

I sat there in that room by myself for what seemed to be hours. I don’t really know how long it was. When the door opened, A woman entered with my girls on each side of her. Ruby hesitated for a second, as though she might not be sure it was me, then pulled her hand away from the woman and ran to my waiting arms. She started crying and so did I.

L was still standing in the doorway holding on to the woman’s hand. R looked back at her and said,” Look, Tishie, Mommy.”

I had to go get L. She came to me when I went to her and put out my arms. She hugged me and then she with drew and sat on the floor playing with the toys there. R and I sat on the floor with her. R sitting almost on top of me. But L was not the same little girl she had been when I last saw her.

 I couldn’t believe the change in her in such a short time. She wasn’t the happy, laughing baby any more. She didn’t even talk to R. And she had always jibbered at R before. I picked her up and sat her in my lap. She didn’t try to get down, but she didn’t acknowledge that she was even aware of my presence, or R’s presence. She didn’t smile, she didn’t cry, she had almost no emotion expression at all.

 So I talked to her and R and tried to pretend that she could understand. I told them first and for most that I loved them both more than they could ever know and that I would always always love them. R says, “we love you, mommy.” Tears again. Then Ruby said “go home now?” My heart was breaking. I had trouble just continuing any sort of communication, much less telling my precious babies the they would never come home with me again.

I’m not sure how I told them. I know I didn’t tell them that I wanted to give them to a new family as the social worker suggested I do. I know I did tell them that it was breaking my heart to let them go, even though I was told not to tell them that. And I told them that I would always love them and always miss them and would always always be somewhere that they could find me. I told them that one day when they were old enough to decide for themselves and if they wanted to they could find me and I’d love them still. That was of course, the last thing I was allowed to say before a social worker burst in to the room and said it was time to go. That created a scene that I will forever remember. R grabbed me around the neck and began screaming. Not using any words, just straight out hysterical screaming! That seem to startle L out of her non emotion state and she grabbed me and started crying.

So there it was, I was bawling, L was bawling, R was screaming bloody murder and the social worker lady was flapping her arms around like some big clumsy flightless bird trying to take flight, yelling for help. And help she got. Several people came in and ruthlessly pulled my baby girls away from me. They took the girls out kicking and screaming while a couple of them stood in front of me with stern looks. How could any human see this scene and not be touched by it at all? I ask you? But none of it seemed to have an effect on these people at all.

After I had calmed down to quiet tears, they took me to another room to sign the papers. They told me again the same things about how I was saving them from being moved around from home to home. How, by signing these papers, I was doing the ultimate deed of Love. How I should be proud of having such unselfish love for my children to think of them first….

(When I first started exploring other, first mother’s blogs and discovered that the words they used on me were the same that were used on many many unwed pregnant girls I was shocked! I guess that kind of coercion works in many different situations.)

The only thing that I could think of for the days, weeks to follow, was at least there was nothing else I could loose. I had lost the most important people in my life. My daughters and no one could ever hurt me more than that. And yes, even though the pain was always, always horrible, I did, at that time buy into the “I did what was best for my babies” theory.

There were times, many times that I wished for death. I wasn’t sure how I could be still alive and hurt that bad any way. I even thought about taking my own life. What stopped me? I had made a promise to my girls that I would be waiting for them always. I couldn’t break that promise. So I would just say it again, at least no one could ever hurt me again because there was nothing left. That was what I thought, until I found yet one more thing I had to loose.


During all this, I had been very physically sick. I chalked this sickness up to the stress and depression. Because I had been eating very little during the last month or more and because when I did eat, I usually threw it up, I had lost a lot of weight. And I was already a small person before all this.

 I remember in August. around R’s birthday which was terrible for me I suddenly relized that I couldn’t remember the last time I had had a period. But at first, I didn’t think about it more than a minute or two, because one time I had heard, or saw on t.v. that if you loose weight down to a point you would stop having periods.

but evenually, I had to go to a dr. Yes, it was confirmed in late August that I was pregnant. After another appointment, (I couldn’t remember when my last period was) so I had to be tested to determine my due date, which was said by the dr to be Feb 14. This pregnancy I knew would not be a happy one, like the two before. I couldn’t think of anything worse at this time than to be pregnant. I was sure that CPS would be knocking on my door the day I brought my baby home to take it away. When I told T and Mrs. H about it, they agreed that CPs would never let me keep the baby and the best thing I could do would be to hire a lawyer and do a private adoption.

All I could think of was I couldn’t live through having another child taken away from me. I decided the only way to defend myself against these people was to do as Mrs. H suggested. I asked her to find a lawyer for me. She picked a name out of the phone book and my hell continued. ……..


June 26, 2006 - Posted by | Adoption, my angels, past


  1. That made me cry. You poor poor thing. That must have been and still must be hell for you.

    Comment by reunionwritings | June 26, 2006 | Reply

  2. Sheri, those people weren’t human. My heart goes out to you and my neices. What those people did to you and the girls was horrible.

    Love, Kelly

    Comment by Kelly | June 27, 2006 | Reply

  3. Oh Sheri. Oh Oh Oh. My computer has been down for a week and I have been thinking of you and wondering… and your blog is the first I am reading on this borrowed computer. It is too sad for words. You poor thing. I am crying for you and your babies. I can not bear it. How did you go through all this and keep living? I am angry at this world we have. It is too horrible.

    Comment by cloudscome | June 28, 2006 | Reply

  4. Kim Kim, thank you. I wanted to respond in more detail to your comment, but soon realized that my response was enough for a post… So soon I will answer this.

    Kelly, I’m sorry, I forgot you hadn’t commented here yet and didn’t check to see if I needed to approve you. But you’re all approved now.

    Comment by sheribat | June 28, 2006 | Reply

  5. I’m so very, very sorry that this all happened to you! I really hope there’s a reunion side to your story. I’ll keep reading.

    Comment by Overwhelmed! | July 10, 2006 | Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: