❤     To feel most beautifully alive means to be reading something beautiful, ready always to apprehend in the flow of language the sudden flash of poetry.

❤     If you are not too long, I will wait for you all my life.

❤     Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is a daily admission of one’s weakness…. It       is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.

❤     Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us all without words….

❤     To read a writer is for me not merely to get an idea of what he says, but to go off with him and travel in his company. 

The past few years have brought as much confusion as they have brought clarity.

The more I find out and the more I learn about adoption, the less I want to know about it.

Reading through paperwork and depositions, having questions for lawyers that have been no help, people not wanting to talk to us because of the very nature of our case and accusations, it’s been awful. To have so many unanswered questions and so many unethical actions that those responsible have still not been held accountable for, makes my stomach turn.

The judge, or shall I say former judge, no stranger to scandal; Lupita, a court clerk,  facilitating and profiting from an adoption she set up while on the clock; the police, who simply never responded; the DA, look the other way rather than explain such a thing happening on his watch; the court-appointed LA lawyer, no passion, no concern, nothing but a suit; an infertile couple, who showered Lupita with gifts for my niece, there is no nice way to sugar coat that, baby buying and selling are precisely what they sound like. All the attorneys, and the way they manipulate and twist the truth with smiles on their faces. It drives me crazy to think about.

As I get closer to finalizing part one of this nightmare, it’s bringing me a little bit of peace. Seeing the book come together one page at a time takes some of the weight off. Each time I write and check details off my outline, I feel free as I get it out and on paper.  I have a few months left before it’s being sent to print, and as it gets closer, relief.

It’s our side of the story, written to my niece in hopes of her knowing the truth.  For my family, who have had to endure such a thing. It’s especially dedicated to all those that believed that destroying one family in secret to make another was worth it. I want them to know the pain they caused and the destruction that they left behind them. They wanted us to remain silent and probably think we always will. Little do they know they are being written about nearly daily.

We need a voice as much as we need justice.

This is the judge we addressed our complaints to, Lupita’s former boss.
It speaks for itself.

Dear God ….

Please take this hurt away.

Help me to get through this night without crying myself to sleep.

Please give my niece the desire to know us and the wisdom to believe us.

Take all this bad and make it beautiful.

Forgive us for the forgiveness we cannot yet manage.

Break away the barriers outsiders have put in our family way.

Carry us during this time we can barely stand on our own feet.

Prepare us for what the future holds.

Brighten the darkness in our thoughts.

Remind us that evil never prevails over good.

Give us the patience to wait.

Keep us together even though we’re apart.

Quiet the chaos.

Take the burdens and make them blessings.

Protect us from the lies told against us.

Comfort us during this painful tribulation.

Release us from the bondage of bitterness.

Guide us and keep us.

These things I pray with all my heart, in Jesus’ name …. Amen.

❤     We are each other’s business: we are each other’s magnitude and bond…. 

❤     We know the truth, not only by reason, but also by the heart….

❤     The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes….

❤      If it were not for hopes, the heart would break….

❤     The process of writing has something infinite about it. Even though it is interrupted each night, it is one single rotation.

Dealing with a situation of this magnitude takes an enormous amount of patience.

I want to shout from the rooftops about the horrible injustice bestowed upon my family at the hands of a sneaky, conniving neighbor and an infertile couple; but at the same time, it is so very personal and exposing the most intimate of hurts is not easy. In fact, it is quite uncomfortable. I want to bury the agony but instead I have to put it all out there.

I just want it to go away. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I don’t want to go to bed with it, I don’t want to get lost in thought, I don’t want the anxiety. I don’t even want to know about it myself, yet I have no choice but to document everything in hopes that their despicable acts will be made transparent. Since we weren’t given the justice we deserve, because the people who were supposed to protect us were the ones who kept it quiet for their own sake, I will make sure we get justice somehow.

It is mind-boggling how something like this could happen, in a county courthouse, and the district attorney and judge just looked the other way. A judge that later had to step down after many years for “misconduct”, a district attorney who acted like we were ridiculous for wanting answers. Our police reports never even received an answer. This tight-knit little town, where everyone knows each other and they live as if they’re above the law, and apparently they are since they just swept our accusations right under the carpet.

All I know is that I’m exhausted. I’m so tired and drained. I don’t know how I’ve done all this for so long. I don’t know how I’ve managed to keep it together when I want to come unglued. I’ve had to force myself out of bed when all I want to do is pull the covers over me and disappear. I’ve had to force a smile when I want to just fall to the floor and cry. I’ve had to be attentive to the needs of others when sometimes I can’t even eat because my stomach is all upset with nerves on edge.

It still feels like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. I can’t completely freak out like I deserve to. I have to be polite and proper toward people who are the absolute scum of the earth. And I hate it. As if they deserve any consideration. They should all be put away in a place where they can’t buy and sell babies.

I didn’t ever think things like this could happen, but they do. They happen more often than one would like to think. You just don’t think about people being capable of doing such things. The more you try to understand it, the more you realize you can’t wrap your brain around it. You just close your eyes and try to get away from it.

This has not only changed my life, it has taken it. There’s no such thing as a “normal” anymore. It’s all about trying to survive and maintain until I’m able to set the record straight. I have to stay strong and trust in God that this evil will one day be turned into something good. One day the clouds will clear and the brightness of the light will be heavenly….

I love her more than I could ever explain.

I miss her so much when I close my eyes, I see her little face.

I wish I could take care of her and see her grow and discover.

I dream of hearing her laugh and seeing her play.

I think of her throughout the day and dream of her most nights.

I imagine the memories we’ll one day get to make.

I pray she will come home and stay with us forever.

If she only knew….

Although I am a night owl, the afternoon of a rainy day calms my restlessness. I really enjoyed the cloudy day today. A mug of hot chocolate, a good book, relaxing in my getaway in the backyard.

I love taking these little breaks between creating lesson plans and planning events, both of which are year round and take a lot of time. I’ve mapped out every detail for one event after another; Superbowl Sunday, Valentine’s Day, a graduation celebration, an 18th birthday party, a quadruple baptism, two baby showers, a trip to Puerto Rico, and that’s just booking through May. I’m always being pulled in a million directions so this quiet time is essential.

A couple of years ago, I decided I really had to start taking care of myself again, not just taking care of everyone else and worrying myself sick, and it’s been a lot harder than it sounds. I had to spend time with myself, alone, figuring out what I liked and what made me smile because after neglecting myself for so long, I didn’t feel like I knew myself at all. So I’ve made it a point to pamper myself with little things like a pedicure, and haven’t been spending endless hours cooking and cleaning but instead doing things to make me feel renewed.

 It’s so easy to get lost in the hurt of this tragic situation, but I’ve been making it a point to look ahead and think positive. Just because there’s nothing I can do now doesn’t mean I will be bound and helpless forever. God is in the business of miracles and I believe that one day we will be granted one. It  gives me great comfort to know that He is keeping track of our tears, our worries, our wants, and our deepest hopes.

So as I wait anxiously for my niece to come home, I’ve decided not to fall apart any further. Despair has kept me from living, kept me from seeing all the wonderful and beautiful things around me. I want to focus on blessings not disappointments. I want to look up and not down. I feel like everything is going to be okay, everything will work out….

Before I decided to write a formal account of the adoption, I began writing handwritten letters to my niece. I wanted to share certain thoughts and feelings with her that are very personal, things I want to remain just between she and I.

Putting your heart on paper is a really intimate thing, revealing your innermost feelings a little bit at a time. I wanted my words to have a personal touch so that all the love I feel would radiate from the pages. A box full of letters wrapped with a pink ribbon, a time capsule on pretty stationery. It means everything to me to leave something of great importance to the little girl who has captured my heart. One day she’ll know that she was always with me, always on my mind, always in my prayers.

Love letters…. wishes and dreams …. dedicated to my beloved niece…. 

I never liked this guy from the start. I only met him a few times but I just didn’t like him.

I didn’t like the way he talked to my sister, I didn’t like the way he treated my sister, and I hate the way he abandoned my sister in her most desperate time. It was his child she was carrying, he was well aware of it, although he blatantly denied it.

He left her to fend for herself, not being there for her in any way, emotionally, financially, or otherwise.

He was a little boy pretending to be a man, and he was more than willing to walk away from his responsibilities.

But that isn’t the worst of it.

Our families had no choice but to speak over the phone the night before we went to court to determine the custody of my niece. As the head of the family, my father placed a call to Daryl’s mother, Paula. After a long discussion, Paula told my father that yes, they would help us to have Nevaeh returned to us, and Daryl would not relinquish his rights. They agreed that this baby had much family to love and support her, my father even stated that we would draw up papers relinquishing Daryl of any payments for child support.

I remember all of us sitting around the kitchen island at my parent’s house while they were on the phone. I can’t even find the words to describe the desperation we all felt, and still feel. It was just not an option to have one of our own be taken off to be raised by strangers when our family was more than willing and capable. Never in a million years did I ever think we would be in a battle for our own baby.

After sitting on pins and needles, feeling like the room was spinning, all of a sudden we saw a look on my dad’s face, he lit up and said, ” oh thank you, Paula, this baby needs to be with her mom and family and we’ll handle everything.” A little more discussion which I can’t remember because I was so elated, and that was that.

He hung up the phone, we all cried, we laughed, we were love drunk. We breathed a sigh of relief, our baby was coming home to her rightful place. We had already gotten her a diaper bag, clothes, and blankets, which still sit on a shelf in my mother’s private closet.

Everything was going to be okay, we started talking about everything we were going to do. Painting her tiny toes and when she got bigger, out for ice cream. A simple but beautiful love and bond was already there. We saw a wonderful future and we looked at each other and were never so strong or in love with each other. We were a family that rallied together, just as we still do. We look after each other and take care of each other.

It was a long night. We were all so physically and mentally wiped out that by the time we went to sleep it was almost time to get up for court. I’ll never forget that morning. It was the worst day of my life.

************************************************************

We arrived at the courthouse.

I remember standing there, looking around. Lawyers, suits, briefcases. I felt sick to my stomach then, and I feel sick thinking about it now.

Our lawyer came over to us, and said, ” he signed away his rights this morning.”

My sister screamed.

**************************************************************

All these years later, I still can’t believe how that went down. Daryl denying over and over that he was the father and wouldn’t even submit to a paternity test, but signed her away like nothing. Paula, his mother, already had more than one son under her roof paying child support for kids they didn’t see. I guess they thought it was easier to give her to strangers, rather than keep her with her family than for them to possibly have to pay a dime for her.

They signed her away to avoid any responsibility, although we needed nothing from them. I don’t know who is worse, Lupita who set it up and profited from the adoption; or Daryl and his family, that knew the situation and turned a blind-eye.

Daryl never lifted a finger for my niece, and when he did, it was the middle one. He’s simply pathetic, no excuse. We stood up to fight, and he put his tail between his legs, just like his mom showed him how to do.