Facing my own demons

adoption, adoption loss, life,

For the love of Terry David

I have been putting this post off. I wasn’t sure why, after all I posted the hardest part. Making my story public about how I lost my girls was a giant step for me. I so feared that other’s wouldn’t understand my story. They just wouldn’t get it. I feared that people would say, “oh, she had to be wrong because CPS doesn’t do stuff like that.” Even after I found others who had similar things happen to them, I was still afraid of being judged wrongly. But I sucked it up and told my story. The whole unvarnished truth that was my horror story.

So why was I hesitant to post the story of my son? I decided that I would have to have the answer to that question before I could actually get past this hesitation. And so that’s what I’ve been doing, analyzing how I felt about telling my son’s story. Finally, it came to me. It was like the end. Just like the when I gave him up for adoption, telling the story for anyone who cares to see, it was like the end.

So knowing what was my cause for hesitation, I was able to work through it. So here is how this feels, writing this is like going back to that time and reliving it again. The last time I ever was a mother. That’s how it always felt. It was the end. Of course, it wasn’t really the end, I lived. (Although, at times I did not know how I lived, but I did.)

And telling this story doesn’t have to be the end here. I still have much to say. I still have much to work out in my life. So today, I will tell the world about Terry David, my baby son.

 Once I contacted the lawyer, from a phone book ad, I went to his office once. I am sure that I did that. It seems more like a dream. A lot of stuff I really don’t remember very clearly and yet other stuff, minor things, I remember perfectly. It is a jumbled up mess in my head.

I know that the lawyer gave me the name and phone no to a Obgyn and I started going to him for my medical needs. The ad in the phone book for the lawyer said the adoptive parents would pay for medical expenses and some living expenses. So I assumed, without asking that I had to go to this Dr and could not choose my own Dr. Although, as far as I remember, I never really had a complaint about the chosen Dr. He doesn’t stand out in my memory much except at the end.

I know that after he examined me he said he thought the due date that my first Dr had given me was close enough to keep. So My due date was valentines day. I thought about that and thought it was cool. I really wanted my baby to be born on Valentine’s Day. He’d be a true love child then. I thought. (Now, I hate valentine’s day. I do my best not to celebrate it. My DH always buys me something for that day, but I never buy him anything and I usually spend a lot of time hiding by myself to cry.)

I never received in living expense moneys. I didn’t ask about it, cause I really felt like if I did receive any money personally, it would be like selling my baby. But this meant I had to work full time for my whole pregnancy.

This was hard, because I was sick the whole time. The “morning” sickness never stopped. Even through my last month, I threw up everyday, sometimes several times a day. I wanted my baby to be healthy, I didn’t want to do anything to hurt him, so I ate what I could and found the only thing I could hold down was raw fruits and veggies. So that’s what I ate during my pregnancy. Nothing cooked, nothing processed, and absolutely no meat. I couldn’t stand it at all. Even the smell of meat cooking was too much. Which was bad since I worked in a restaurant.

I also cried. I cried all the time. I cried myself to sleep at night. If anyone said anything about my pregnancy, I cried. If I saw a mother with her children, I cried. If I saw a little lost dog on the street, I cried. It was the worst time of my life. People I worked with learned to pretend that I wasn’t as big as a house and were very careful what they said to me, or around me. But of course, you know there’s nothing like a pregnant woman to get strangers to ask personal questions of someone they didn’t know. The managers tried their best to assign me to jobs that would keep me from having direct contact with the costumers. (As I look back on that now, I realize that the people I worked with were really good to me. They really tried hard to help me and protect me. I don’t think I saw that then.)

So my due date was Feb. 14. I was scheduled to go in for birth by c-section on Feb. 15. The last time I went for a Dr’s appointment they did test to see if the baby was fully developed and determined that he was and the date of feb. 15th was confirmed.

On feb. 12, I went to work like any other day. I remember my back was bothering me occasionally while I was at work and my legs kept cramping. But I didn’t think much about it. I worked my shift and walked the three blocks from work to home. By the time I reached home, I was in serious pain. And I knew I was in labor. So this is it, I thought. I didn’t want my son to be born after valentine’s day and I guess he didn’t want to wait ether.

So he was born on feb. 12. I called my Dr and told him I was having labor pains. They were still not on a schedule, but since we already knew that the baby was ready and because I was having a c-section, the Dr said to go to the hospital and check in. He was there by the time I got checked in. They took me straight to the delivery room and gave me a spinal thing. (I’m sorry, I’ve tried every possible way I can think of and my spell checker refuses to give me the correct spelling of that word.) Anyway, I wanted to be awake for the birth of my son. It was the first time I was awake for birth.

When he was born, the nurse held him up for just a second for me to see. He wasn’t crying. But I was. Then she whisked him away to clean him and do the test or what ever they do. I started feeling that my lungs were collapsing. My chest hurt so bad that I felt like I was getting no air at all. I heard someone say something about hyperventilating and blood pressure and then someone leaned next to my ear and told me they were going to put something in my i.v. To help calm me. He said I may start to feel sleepy. That was ok, he said. I nodded my head, I thought I was dying. I couldn’t feel any air getting to my lungs. Then I felt a warmth in my arm that spread through my body and I ether went to sleep or passed out. It didn’t feel like falling asleep, it was like, I hear everything and feel all this pain and  think I’m dying and then suddenly I wake up in recovery.

When I woke up enough to sit up and take a drink of water, which was only a couple of hours, I was moved to a private room. But those couple of hours to me felt like an instant. Once I got to my room I told the nurse I wanted to see my son. But she said I needed to be more stable before they brought the baby in. Maybe that was the truth, I don’t know now. All I do know was I felt like I was ok physically and I wanted to see my son. I was aching so bad to hold him.

They didn’t mention bringing him to me until the next day. When the nurse asked me if I would like to see my son now I almost jumped out of bed. Yes! Yes!

But she didn’t come back with him. Instead the lawyer and another woman came in with the papers for me to sign. The lawyer didn’t say anything. This woman that I didn’t know started trying to act like she was my friend or something. She said it would be better for me to get this out of the way before I said good bye to the baby. And some other stuff. If we went over what the papers said, I don’t remember it. If I read any of it, I really don’t remember reading it. I just signed where she told me too. I was bawling like crazy. I could barely see. She reached out and patted my shoulder and I do remember flinching away from her. And then they were gone and there was another woman and the nurse with my son.

The nurse placed my son in my arms. I couldn’t stop crying. I sat up on the side of my bed so I could turn my back on the new woman who did not leave when the nurse left. I, to this day, do not have a clue who that woman was. I was crying so hard by then that my ears were stopped up. So when I turned my back on the woman, she came to that side of the bed and sat down right in front of me and started talking. I couldn’t hear her, I couldn’t say anything. I just hugged my baby to me and cried. I wanted to tell this woman to leave, I wanted to scream it. But I didn’t. I wanted to talk to my son. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him and I didn’t want to do this but I didn’t have a choice. I wanted to tell him that I would always always love him. But I didn’t want anyone else to hear. It was supposed to be a private moment for me and my son, but here was this woman who I didn’t know. I wanted also to tell him the name I chose for him. I didn’t tell anyone for many many years the name I gave to my son. The name he would never use, would never know. Terry David, my son, I still love you just as much as I did that day! The one and only day that I held you in my arms.

After that I was released from the hospital. Only a few hours after I held my son. One day after I had surgery and the Dr that I had went to during all this, wrote on my release papers that I should visit the county hospital on such and such date for a check up as he would not be able to see me again. I guess once they had my baby the adoptive parents felt no need to pay any future medical bills. I didn’t go to county, I didn’t go anywhere to be checked. I figured I couldn’t kill myself, but if I got a bad infection or something and died from it, then I’d be out of this pain.

Shortly after the birth of my son, the DA dropped the charges against my babies father. He never even went to court. Just like they had dropped the charges against me, they said it was due to lack of evidence. Of course there was lack of evidence! The charges against Terry’s father were totally trumped up by Cps to get my daughters away from me!

But as it happens in city jail. It took almost a week for them to release T.H. After the charges were dropped. We knew the day he was going to get out. Before that day came, I called my Dad and begged him to let me move to Tenn and stay with them for a while. I couldn’t stay there any more and I couldn’t be there when T.H. Got out of jail. He had encouraged me to sign the papers giving up my rights to parent my daughters and he was the one who first said I should hire a lawyer to put our baby up for adoption. I couldn’t face him ever again. So I left him and my life long home of Texas before he got out of jail. I moved to Tenn and began my new life. A life in which I wasn’t a mother. A life behind a mask of anger, depression and shame. I became a totally different person. I never again cried in front of anyone. I cried for my children only in the dark, alone.

There is one thing that I’ve only just figured out, which became clear to me once I started writing this blog. That is that during all that time, I have blamed myself first because I didn’t fight for my kids. I knew that I was lied to and not told anything about my rights but I didn’t think any of that mattered in the end because I signed those papers. Now, I know that I was in no emotional position to make any life decisions during any of that time. I was such an emotional wreck that I couldn’t even make simple everyday decisions. I was as close to a total break down as anyone could be without standing naked in the street screaming. I remember one time I was in a store to buy milk and stood in front of the cooler and started crying because there were too many different types of milk and I didn’t know which one to buy. This was the woman who signed the papers that took my precious babies out of my life. Looking back on that time, remembering all of it, it’s like I can see myself, but it’s like not me. It was this woman who was living in my body. She was so lost. It was like being in a totally dark room, with no windows or doors and trying to find your way out. So lost and trapped. How could anyone have looked at that woman and not known how messed up she was? How could anyone have not known that she shouldn’t have been allowed to make any life decisions?


July 6, 2006 - Posted by | Adoption, past


  1. I am so sorry you had to go through this. So sorry you were treated this way.

    Comment by cloudscome | July 7, 2006 | Reply

  2. This just makes me so sad. What a terrible crime this is. You were really robbed of your children and you were a good mother.

    Telling your story here is not the end, it’s the beginning, we have a lot of ground to cover us mums working it all through. Keep writing.

    Wish I could do more for you.

    Keep giving this a voice, it’s so very important.

    Comment by kim.kim | July 7, 2006 | Reply

  3. Sheri, this is the 2nd time I have read this story, the first time when you finally told me everything. It still hurts to know what you went through. I wish I had know and could have been there for you. You really did need someone there who cares about you and could be your voice then.

    I am here for you now though and always will be.

    Love you so much,

    Comment by Kelly | July 8, 2006 | Reply

  4. It was a crime that you were treated this way, by everyone involved! I’m so sorry you’ve had to live with this pain all of your life.

    I hope that writing here offers you some form of healing, or at least some moral support!

    Comment by Overwhelmed! | July 10, 2006 | Reply

  5. Wow, this is really horrible. I hope you find peace and are able to someday re-establish a relationship with your children. They are forever a part of you as you are equally a part of them.

    I became pregnant (found out on my 21st birthday) with a baby I knew I couldn’t keep. My life was in chaos and I knew the baby’s father wouldn’t stick around. I looked into adoption, but was very uncomfortable I knew already that I wouldn’t be able to give up the baby. So then I thought I was being selfish and sought out an abortion. I hate it when people make it sound like adoption or abortion are even comparable. Either decision is frought with difficulties- each is painful, and requires a space and support. It was hard for me to hear that people thought I was a “murderer” and that adoption would have been the right choice. In that circumstance, the right choice should have been made before I got pregnant and by that time, it was already too late.

    I’m really very sorry for all you have gone through. I think about it often, what it must be like. I knew a woman who gave up her son. I supported her in her decision, but it was a very difficult experience. Her partner left her and her parents disowned her. All because she tried to do what she thought was right. It’s so sad that people can be so judgemental – to the point that they cause such horrific pain in others.

    Blessings to you and yours.

    Comment by iamsamiam | August 1, 2006 | Reply

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