These people made everything so difficult, so uncomfortable.

I never imagined I’d encounter such awful people; desperate, infertile people.

Their misfortune was not our fault, why did they have to shatter our dreams to make theirs come true?

This baby had and has a home. They knew she is loved and adored. How could anyone do such a selfish and ugly thing?

How could they ‘forbid’ us of taking photos and calling my niece terms of endearment? That is a different kind of cruel. How do you explain why you would do something like that other than you’re trying to make this child your own, when she isn’t and never will be.

Paperwork doesn’t make her belong to these people. Paperwork will never fill the hole that will be in my niece’s heart, feeling like we didn’t love her or want her. Anything they could to  drive the knife deeper, they did. They made sure salt was poured in the wound. On one occasion purposely putting a note in my niece’s lunch that was “from mommy.”

I believe my niece was a year and a half old. Was it necessary to add that dagger in our hearts? This woman has a master’s degree in psychology and she undoubtedly knew how it would make us feel, as hard as we were fighting to bring her home.

Their friends circling us like secret spies at the tables at the park, freezing first thing in the morning. Had I eaten breakfast I wouldn’t have been able to keep it down.

I describe these people as cruel, desperate, immoral, spiteful, and manipulative. No amount of fancy gifts they gave to Lupita could ever make my niece truly theirs.

I want my niece to know that we, her God-given family, are waiting for her to come home. We reconvene in court in two years, when my niece will have somewhat of a voice. I hope and pray that after she is made aware of the circumstances and truth, she will want to know us, love us, and come home the very day she is of age.

( Written: August, 2006 )

For me, this blog has been a life-saver.

It has helped me to keep a running record of the book I’m writing for my niece, page by page. It’s a slow process to explain each part of the story and being able to see it come together little by little helps me sleep at night.

I value my privacy so I steer clear of social media but this blog is necessary for my sanity. Anything I can do to raise awareness about secret pregnancies and secret adoptions and the destruction they leave behind, I am willing to do.

I have a teenage daughter and she has talked to me about numerous friends that needed some help or someone to talk to, and before the words finished leaving her lips, I told her, they can come here. If they needed a place to stay, help to get on their feet, whatever it is, we’re here day or night. I’ve taken in many kids over the years and have served more meals than I count to every one of them that came over.

My grandma always told me to make a good size portion of whatever I was making because you never knew who would stop by to eat. I carried that with me my whole life and every time I had more than extra and those unexpected guests came by, I served them a huge plate with a smile, silently thinking of my grandma.

I was always taking care of the neighborhood kids, the kids’ friends from school, buying them clothes, opening the door in the middle of the night if they needed to talk or a place to sleep. My daughter ran up to me one day and said that it was one of her good friends’ thirteenth birthday and that absolutely nothing was being done for her. I thought quickly, told her to give me an hour, and I threw her milestone birthday, complete with decorations, food, and beautifully wrapped gifts. I believe the party was ready in an hour and fifteen minutes.  

The look on this little girl’s face and the happy tears in her eyes is a memory I feel so honored to be a part of.

I still have a card from another of the kids’ friends thanking me for being the best mom he ever had. Kids were always welcome to come over, eat, have a sleepover, play board games, come over for a book club meeting complete with  Hors d’oeuvre and face painting. My heart has always been with children. I knew my calling was to be a teacher when I was in second grade. Thankfully, I was blessed and my dream came true.

So is it any wonder that one of my biggest dreams other than having children of my own, was to have nieces and nephews? Having an eight year gap between my middle sibling and a sixteen year gap between myself and my little brother, I knew I would have to wait patiently for my dream of becoming an auntie to be fulfilled.

I had it all planned out. How the baby shower decorations would look, how I would be there for the birth, the books we would read, the places we would go, the ice-cream sundaes we would make.

I daydreamed of wearing one of those cheesy ‘ #1 Auntie ‘ t-shirts.

When I heard of the news, that our lives changed overnight into living nightmare we would have to survive, I saw my dreams in my mind’s eye disappear one by one. No special holidays, no movie nights, no discovering the world through nature walks, no museums, no plays, no hugs, no kisses. Everything I dreamed of my whole life was wiped away in one second like a sandcastle built at the shoreline.

I couldn’t sleep the night I found out, my hands shaking, I grabbed a sheet of paper to scribble out some feelings and frustrations. That writing never stopped, and continues to this day. I had to get out what I felt, had I not started writing what would turn into this book, I don’t think I would have made it.

I’ve barely survived as it is, but the writing and praying are what kept me alive. For many years after this secret and painful adoption, I became very sick. I was having crying spells so I had no choice but to quit a job I loved so much because I would smile and take care of patients when they came in, and once they were sent to the doctor’s care room, I would go in the back of the office and cry my eyes out. I would cry so hard that I would hyperventilate.

I was getting sick all the time, my body felt weak and achy. I couldn’t think straight, walk straight, I couldn’t keep track of time, I was having terrifying nightmares, I could barely eat, and I just wanted to sit still, stare off into space and not utter a word. You really do get a lump in your throat when the emotional pain is so severe it takes away your ability to even swallow.

I withdrew from everything and everyone for a good while and it has been a slow process of healing, and I know that I’ll never really be the same ever again. I realized that part  a long time ago.

But God is always with me and I know the day will come when I get to have a relationship with my niece. This blog has been so therapeutic and helps me immensely. It helps me get it all out. I have received so much kindness and support from strangers around the world and I am deeply touched every time someone reaches out to me. That support helps me get through some tough days and gives me that push to never give up.

Being able to document the process from blog to book helps bring me relief, it eases the strain. It has been such a blessing to be able to raise awareness about such a taboo subject.

Telling our side of this awful story is so important and I’m grateful to have a place for our voices to be heard.

This is so profoundly true ….

I am just absolutely dumbfounded that nearly ten years have gone by.

I still can’t make sense of it. I keep rolling different scenarios around my mind, can this all just be a horrible nightmare?

I’ve missed so much of my baby niece’s life. I have prayed until I have fallen asleep in the midst of asking God for his mercy, I have wished on every falling star I’ve seen. I want her back so badly. I want to hug her, kiss her, and just let my eyes soak in her beauty. I want to get in our jammies with a good book, snuggled under the covers with hot chocolate and scented candles burning bright. I want to hold our hands up to each other and see how much they look the same. I want her to look into a face that resembles her own.

I long so deeply for peace; an emotional peace that only she can bring. I write letters to her that I’m not even certain she will ever get. I buy her gifts and put them away, I have keepsakes for her that I can only dream of giving her. I’m doing my best to stay positive and keep her with me as much as I can. Until we are free to have a relationship without ridiculous restrictions, all we can do is be stuck in limbo.

It’s amazing to me how people can do such horrific things, then put on a face of an angel. The wicked go on with their lives and are blessed because Satan does reward devious, selfish, and unfavorable behavior.

But in the Bible it also says in Psalms 37:17 ” For the arms of the wicked shall be broken: but the Lord upholdeth the righteous. ” I believe that with all my heart. Good always prevails over evil, without fail.

I wait anxiously for this all to just go away. I want to think about something other than how the filth involved in this swooped in like vultures and snatched our baby away with their claws. I want the truth about this adoption to be told.

It wasn’t right, and there is no other way to say it.

Shame on all those who took part in this ugliness; make no mistake, you will reap what you have sown.

And ” They that sow in tears shall reap in joy “….. Psalms 126:5

I hardly watch television, but when I do, its like the devil makes sure I hear the one-second mention of adoption. It could be a commercial or just a quick clip, but I’ve noticed on a great number of sitcoms that adoption is glamorized, jokes are made about it, it’s taken so lightly and it’s made to be trendy. People are so desensitized that the tearing apart of a mother and child and family are obsolete.

Hollywood makes it all look so cool and fashionable. You always hear of these celebrities and their ‘new children’ making the news, children that seem to be adopted for show, for status. It’s like children just drop out of the sky, no ties to anyone, a person to mold and shape, a toy that doesn’t run out of batteries. The baby cries, hand them to the nanny.

Please don’t misunderstand me; under the right circumstances, adoption can be an amazing blessing. When a child is orphaned, in the foster care system, when the child is without any of their natural family, then yes, adoption can be a beautiful thing.

But when a child’s family is there, supportive, loving, and accepting, they should have every right to be given the opportunity to raise their kin.  A family should be kept together if at all possible. Had our family been made aware of my sister’s pregnancy, this adoption would have come to a screeching halt. She just didn’t know how to tell us, she was taken advantage of at the most vulnerable she had ever been, and ultimately we were robbed of our right to raise our baby in our family, her rightful family.

Secret adoptions are never good, adoptions where someone profits from the baby exchange are sickening, the severing of a family through unjust adoption is not a laughing matter. Adoption jokes are not funny no matter how you tell them.

Altering a child’s identity via adoption should be the last option because the child is literally molded into what the adoptive family wants them to be, rather than the child developing through a natural course with their natural family teaching their traditions and ways of life. A person is not a thing to be bought. A good rule of thumb is ‘Adoption is for children without homes, not homes without children.’ 

The truth about adoption, the details no one wants to talk about, the pain and destruction left behind, it’s all conveniently left out. No one talks about the mother and family who never heal, the child who grows up wondering and yearning to belong. People are entitled to know where they come from, who they belong to, and they have the right to be a part of their own family. No one should have the right to break up a family by ‘buying’ a child especially when the child’s family was completely unaware of the clandestine adoption taking place.

The real issues of adoption need awareness, it’s taboo to talk about but looks so beautiful on t.v. I know from personal experience that the effects of adoption last a lifetime, no matter how they are arranged. It leaves scars, it leaves unanswered questions, it leaves confusion and unsettled spirits.

Family is so important and more resources need to be available to keep them intact.

The truth about adoption isn’t what is portrayed in the movies and magazines. The fact is, children are not accessories. They are human beings and their needs should be considered above all else.

Laws need to be changed regarding relinquishment of rights, the timeframe a mother has to ‘think it out thoroughly’ needs to be extensive. No more of this ridiculous ’72 hours’ nonsense. Rules need to be followed, nothing should be hidden.

Adoption isn’t glamorous. It is a serious, life-altering event that changes everyone involved. Adoption nightmares are hidden, swept under the radar, never talked about. Adoptees rarely have the right to their own paperwork, which is absurd. Moms are thrown away and forgotten.

Hollywood and television make adoption look glittery like gold, when in truth, there is a darkness beneath the bright lights. And that darkness is so dark, black isn’t dark enough to describe it.

This piece of writing is dedicated to my sister, and no matter how old she gets, she’ll always be my baby sister. Her strength amazes me and her hope inspires me.

I cannot imagine how she feels or how she keeps going. I think she is still so lost and confused about what happened to her, it will never make sense. I think God protects her by specifically giving her extra happiness and blessings because if He didn’t, I know she would wither away from heartbreak.

I close my eyes and clench my jaw and fists, still in disbelief that this has happened. All this time later, I still say that had this truly been her decision, I would have to find a way to accept it. But when two and two never added up to four, I am well aware of the fact that this was an immoral, unethical, and ultimately, illegal secret adoption. It just doesn’t add up. In adoptions that are done the right way, there aren’t so many red flags. There isn’t a tug-of-war over a living, breathing, human being. How can you take a child away from her mother and family, regardless of paperwork you obtained and gifts you gave out?

I could never do such a thing and neither could anyone in my family. We’re always the ones to help everyone. Had I adopted a baby, and the mother said to me, please give me my baby back, I was under extreme duress, and the decisions were made for me while I was under the enormous pressure of just not knowing how to tell my parents, my baby should never have been taken this way… I would hand that baby over with loving arms, wish the mother, baby, and family well, and just trust in God that He would give us a baby that was meant to be ours.

You don’t fix your own infertility by taking the fruit of another woman’s womb. No matter how much paperwork I had, I could not rest knowing a family and mother wanted their baby, and rightfully so, and I was just so desperate for a child that I didn’t care. I couldn’t destroy a family to create my own. I could never take advantage of a young, vulnerable, teenage mother, at a time she needed her family support more than ever. This adoptive “mother” should have been well aware of that, having a master’s degree in psychology she should have known the emotional turmoil this fragile girl was in. If this mother and her family came to me and said, we just didn’t know, please do the right thing and give her to us her family, I wouldn’t be happier than to reunite mother and child.  

It takes every bit of prayer and trust in God I have to maintain my composure in the midst of such an emotional battle. What my sister feels, I wish I could block it out of my mind because it hurts so much for me to think of. It gives me such an anxiety thinking about how my baby sister was taken advantage of, and thrown away. She must have been so incredibly scared, so alone, so lost, so confused, and in an indescribable state of panic. It was pointed out that she was sleeping an awful lot, she was trying to sleep away her pain and desperation.

She prays and has learned to forgive herself because it is clear that she was a victim of an evil force at work. A naïve and frightened young girl didn’t stand a chance against lawyers, vultures, and highly educated people with life-experience. No one in her corner, Lupita being given gifts and being the guest star in every detail of this adoption, she did what she was told, and even when she expressed uncertainty, she was blatantly ignored.

I hurt because my sister hurts. I feel guilty, helpless, disappointed, angry, and unnerved because I can’t do anything to help her. I don’t want someone I love so much to hurt so deeply. I wish I could take all her pain away and put it on my shoulders. I wish no more tears to fall from her eyes. I want her to know, I understand. I am on her side and I will do whatever I can to help tell her/our story. I will make sure her voice and her side of the story is finally told. I write to ease the ache in her heart. I say what she gets too choked up to express. I know my sister, and I know how to explain what she feels. With one look in her eyes, I can feel her emotion.

I will always be here for her. I will be here to listen and to tell her that everything is going to be okay. She is courageous, and she will one day be vindicated. Then, finally, we will all be able to rest.