I don’t like to “write angry” which is why I have a writing ritual. I light candles, put music on and simply hope I can write without being fueled with a meanness that only this situation brings out of me. I am forced to take breaks because I don’t want the rage I feel to transfer onto the paper. I have to be rational when I feel anything but.

There’s really no nice way to put it: A secret adoption, a couple unable to conceive willing to do whatever it took to “get a baby.”

My niece; sold away by our neighbor, taken, bought, smiles to our faces, lies behind our backs ….WHAT ????

How is it possible that this happened ?

I am beside myself in disbelief and ever since this fiasco about the balloons and flowers I sent on her tenth birthday, I feel like once again we are being beaten down. Who knew that sending balloons and flowers would cause such an uproar? My sister was immediately called to be bullied and ‘ told off.’

It’s one more time we have to pick ourselves up and  it’s another little jab on their part. I was never told I couldn’t send anything, I just never did. I save things for her instead to be certain that she will actually get the things I have put away for her. I knew what their reaction would be and it was spot on.

They are still playing house, happily lying to my niece about her identity, ethnicity, family, her adoption and the circumstances of events. I am really just so tired of being so helpless that I had to do something. I couldn’t just keep sitting here taking this injustice.

We are the victims in this mess, and they feel it is the other way around. Not so. The judge himself said he was going to “do what was in the best interest of the child.” They changed judges immediately because they knew they did not fix that description, why else would they change judges only after he made that particular statement?

Try to put yourself in our shoes.

Think about what you would do, how you would feel, how your world would be turned upside down in an instant. So blind-sided, confused, putting your hands over your eyes because it can’t be real. It just can’t.

Now for a moment, imagine us.

Think about how we feel.

Our baby girl, with strangers living a made-up life.

Our hands tied for another seven years; seven years that will seem to screech by.

Hurting, anxious, betrayed, pointing the finger at us, when the finger should be pointed at them. Can you blame me for being adamant about making sure my niece knows the truth?

Other than this, I live a very blessed life. I’m so close to God, in love with everyone in my life, well-traveled, well-read, it’s said that I take care of everyone and my dear friend recently told me that I’m a doter, which I never realized I was.

Before I write, I have to pray for a calmness. I have to sit amongst beautiful things, in a cozy place, so that my spirit is as relaxed as possible. I pray for God to give me the wisdom to write the right words so that I can not only tell our story, but hopefully reach the heart of the reader. I hope I reach my niece’s heart.

Now here is a huge dilemma.

How do you sugarcoat an ugly and awful truth?

It worries me sick when I think about how my niece is going to feel when she hears their version of events, and how she is going to feel when she learns the real truth.

The real truth being: this adoption was immoral, unethical, and quite possibly illegal. I wonder how my niece will feel knowing that.

Ever since the moment I found out that my niece has no idea she’s adopted, something has changed in me. I am so hurt and I’m so mad there isn’t a word that is big enough that I could use to describe it.

Ten years, and this little girl has no idea how these people got her in the first place. She has no clue that her life is one big, phony set-up. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; money cannot buy children …. their hearts, I mean.

It hurts me immensely that the adoptive “parents” would take such advantage of a scared and vulnerable young girl, simply to fix their infertility. I think it bothers me even more because we, my niece’s natural family, are the kind of people who would do anything to help and lend a hand.  

I live my life on a tightrope because of this adoption. I walk along smoothly for a bit, then I’m emotionally thrown down, have to get back up and keep going.

When you are dealing with what I call a “living nightmare,” nothing is normal and nothing is as easy as it used to be. Everything takes more effort. It takes a lot to even get out of bed.

Just because I’m not writing every single day doesn’t mean I’m not working on other things pertaining to our case, which is why I decided to keep a monthly calendar so that everything I do is documented even further. The calls I make, the letters I send, the questions I refuse to stop asking.

The people who have my niece may be able to lie and say we never thought about her and never cared about her; but this book, the journals, the scrapbooks, the legal struggle, the phone calls, the constant efforts made to try to bring her home to her rightful place, will be right there for her to see. My niece will see court documents, depositions, complaints letters; they may have their deceiving smiles but we have paperwork in black and white that says this was a red-flag adoption. My niece will see that she was robbed of her rightful family and rightful place in the world, all so this “poor infertile couple” could be “parents.”

My niece will see that her mom, her real mom, Samantha, was deceived, distraught, and duped. She and her family were treated like utter filth, enemies they had to throw every weapon at. There was no loophole they didn’t take advantage of, there’s no tricky tactics they didn’t use.

There was no limit on their manipulations, they had every advantage, their high-priced, heartless lawyer, cold as ice, just like this despicable couple treated us. None of them cared who they hurt along the way, as long as they got what they wanted. I can’t say a baby was the one thing their money couldn’t buy, because their money did buy a baby.

She was worth Tiffany & Co. jewelry, plane tickets, nice dinners, how incredibly pathetic. They treated Lupita like royalty because that is exactly who gave them my sister’s baby. Why else was Lupita given anything?

There is a saying, “follow the money,” well it leads straight to Lupita like tracks in the snow.

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

I’m really only writing this book for one person, my niece. It is dedicated with love and it is written in all honesty. After having had something so devastating happen to you and your family, especially when it is involving the loss of a child, it changes you whether you want it to, or not.

I’m also writing this book to ease my family’s sadness by not allowing the secret to remain as such. Finally our story will be told, our voices will be heard and no one can take that from us.

This book is also dedicated to anyone who has gone through what we have and never had a voice either. I wonder how many times this happens, how many families are broken apart, how many young moms were lied to and treated like royalty until their babies were removed from their arms. It makes me sigh.

If I am able to help just one person or family by telling our painful story, which I would much rather forget than tell, it would really touch my heart and I would simply say ….          ” Thank God. “

I believe with my whole heart that one day my niece will come home and all this anguish and suffering will be gone. We’ll be able to move forward together in love and happiness ….

One thing that is particularly disturbing to me is how my niece is going to react when she finally learns that she is adopted.

I wonder what this will do to her emotionally, how it will feel for her to find out that she has been lied to, that everything she needed to know was hidden from her. Her family, purposely denied our own flesh and blood.

Paperwork be damned, they are well aware that this adoption was immoral, but they chose to put themselves first. They knew full well what this would do to my sister, and her family should we ever have found out. They could care less that they were ripping apart our family to create theirs. They needed a child and they found their solution in a vulnerable girl.

I hope my niece will be able to read trough the lies she has been fed, that she will truly understand that this adoption was an ugly set-up, an awful injustice upon herself, and us, her family. Their money bought her. Their cold hearts and desperation justified their actions in their minds.

We have the evidentiary support that makes it very clear that my sister was taken advantage of. She needed someone who cared about her and her child on her side, she was so young and naïve, there was no way she could have entered into such a contract. She was guilty of being a teenager afraid to tell her parents of her circumstance, nothing more.

So many worries, so many hopes, so many prayers, so many tears; it has been exhausting and has left us emotionally drained.

This thing that happened to us has taken over everything in our lives, it changed everything. There’s never a moment we don’t miss her, or a moment we aren’t seeking out justice. To think that one woman’s infertility could affect so many lives, that she would be willing to do such a horrible thing, all to satisfy her need for a child. I’m sorry that she cannot have children, but what gave her the right to capitalize on a young mother’s fear and pain?

I hope that my niece will get through this with us, because we need each other, because we are family.

As I watch the breaking news reports of the traffic and protests mixed with Christmas commercials trying to sell you everything you don’t need, I am simply rolling my eyes at how ridiculous it all is.

There are people suffering, children going hungry; not just on the other side of the world, but literally down the street.

I care not about fancy cars, flashy jewelry, and the endless distractions of Hollywood. I wonder how people do the things they do, why they don’t seem to care about anything, how they ignore ‘the heart’ of issues.

It’s Christmas Eve and before I leave for a lovely dinner in a candle-lit room with family and friends, I just wanted to take a moment to pray and spend with my niece. There’s never a time I don’t miss her and hardly a day I don’t work on our many efforts from paperwork to phone calls (and everything in between) to bring her home.

I am finding a comfort in knowing that no one can ever take the love in my heart, the compassion I have for others, all things beautiful about my spirit.

I take care of everyone, I dote on those I love, and the things I cherish are not materialistic. I am always putting myself to work for the greater good, with everyone from my students, to children, to strangers I come in contact with in daily life. I am thoughtful, I am loyal, I am a devout believer, and I see with my eyes closed, lead by feeling.

Love will always find a way…. it will wait, it will return if it is ever goes astray. Love is everlasting, it is of the greatest importance, it leaves an imprint, it is so valuable. It defies all reason, it is the strongest force. It can change the world, one act of kindness at a time.

It is my hope that my niece will find the love within the pages of this book, love that is documented with these written words. I hope she will find the love that is within us, her family.

Lord, hear my prayer, and may He give us the “want” to still see the joy ….

~ ” Rest Your Head Close To My Heart,   

     Never To Part …. Baby of Mine ….”

                              ~ Bette Midler

I know you hurt and feel a pain that no one could ever fully understand, not even your family that has gone through it with you.

I can’t imagine what sadness and emptiness you feel. I think about how scared you were, how alone you were. I know how badly you wanted to tell us but couldn’t and I hate that someone we all trusted did such an incredibly awful thing. How can you profit from someone else’s pain and sleep at night?

You were taken advantage of at the most vulnerable time of your life by so many “grown ups” and at least one of them should have recognized the magnitude of what was happening. A desperate couple with a bag of money and jewelry, a court clerk setting up this rush job in a mere 28 days, the most important person, being you ( and your baby as you were still one ), left with no lawyer or advocate, no one from your family by your side to take care of you and help you.

You were told your voice would be heard, and it never was, so I am making sure it is and will be. As your big sister, I told you many years ago that I would take this on my shoulders, because you did not need to carry it on yours.

What happened to you was not your fault, but the fault of those that had everything to gain from YOUR child. No one cared about the girl with the pretty brown eyes that would be left behind. Well, I do.

I care about what this has done to you, and us. I write out our story one word at a time in hopes that someday, your daughter, my niece, will know the truth. She was literally taken from your arms, and what was taken from you as mother and daughter at that moment, was an incomprehensible injustice, and crime of the heart. A crime against a mother and child, who never had a fighting chance because of the vultures surrounding them.

It should have been our family in that delivery room, welcoming one more of our own. Had we known, that couple and their cohorts wouldn’t have been allowed within a hundred miles you or our baby.

Your daughter was, and will remain YOUR daughter, paperwork isn’t going to matter for very much longer. Soon, we will have a reunion that will  make the heavens sing. Don’t you ever hold your head down, you hold your head high and know that God will lead our baby home. No matter her age, she will always be our baby.

I understand that you are so incredibly damaged that you can’t even speak of how you feel because only a few words get out before tears of agony and gasps for air.

I write our story because it needs to be told, it needs to be heard.

I dedicate every moment I spend, writing, researching, seeking out answers; to you, my baby sister and your precious daughter, my niece. 

We got blind-sided by the evildoers once, guarantee it won’t happen again.

I will continue to fight for the voice you and your baby, never had.

Love knows no time, space, or distance, and it can overcome all things, even something as messy and hurtful as this ….

Today I had a “me” day, and I chose to use it to work on our case. I spent the day going through a few thousand pages of paperwork, reading complaints, reading the deceptive lies of the adoptive couple. In a quick description, I hated looking at every single page. Hate is a strong word and entirely appropriate.

As my eyes go over each word of this monster that is not your ordinary adoption case, I am exhausted and running on pure passion for my niece. This adoption never should have happened and I wish this was not our reality.

All the work and writing I do takes hours, from the early morning until the early morning. The time just ticks on and by the time I look up, it’s 2 or 3 in the morning. I quickly wrap it up, pray, and hope not to have nightmares.

This afternoon, I got envelopes ready to be mailed to the Supreme Court Justices, I kept track of what I researched today, I spent my day amongst court documents I dread going through. I had to stay calm as this stirs up so many emotions. Candles lit around me, praying that one day we won’t have to go through this any more. I await the joy that will come after all this sorrow. A case is worked on little by little, it doesn’t happen over night, some cases take years and years. Whatever ours takes, we will go the distance.

I was also working on retyping and reformatting so I can add important letters and documents to the book for my niece.

I am tired, my glasses have hurt my fragile nose that is just a few months out of corrective surgery, but I had to push through it. Until we get some answers and our voice is heard, I will push through anything.

The need for justice knows no bounds. If my neck hurts, I put the heating pad around it, if my wrists start tingling from writing for hours on end, I put my sports wristbands on, if I start having anxiety, I pray.

I will continue to stand up for my sister, niece, and family; until it’s right, I won’t rest. I have found strength, faith, courage, most of all, I have found the true meaning of love, loyalty, and commitment. I have learned the pen is mightier than the sword. (Or the laptop keys, in this case.) 

The more hopeless it seems, the more I refuse to give up. I have reached thousands of people all around the world, one by one. I have learned that I am not alone and that so many others feel my pain. I have been given so much love and support, and that support helps me sleep just a little better.

I am determined, I’m a survivor of many, many traumas, and I don’t give up on what I believe and know to be true.

The truth will lead my niece home, and love will make her stay ….

Writing about a topic such as unjust adoption brings out the most deepest of hurtful emotions. It’s hard to put anything beautiful into something that is so horribly painful.

For ten years straight, I have worked on our case, this book, personal letters, a scrapbook of hopeful memories to be made, a time capsule in a beautiful box with ribbon and charms, a family recipe book; anything and everything I can think of to keep my niece close to us and to document this all-consuming, life-altering event.

Journal entries, phone calls, research: I have tried to timestamp every detail.

I recently thought of another way to keep track of all pertinent information in the form of a monthly calendar so the constant efforts being made to bring my niece home will be easily readable at-a-glance.

I have searched the internet for calendars, cards, and graphics to occasionally insert into entries and have found the best designs at GraphicGarden.Com.

I am respectful of copyrights and wrote a personal email to the wonderfully talented Helena Normark, and kindly asked her if I may use her beautiful graphics as I continue to document this unbelievable, non-fiction, fight for justice.

Ms. Normark granted her permission and sent me a sweet response with well-wishes.

With love, I want to extend my deepest thanks to Helena Normark at GraphicGarden.Com for her compassion and support and for allowing me to use her lovely graphics in writing about a not-so-lovely story.

Thank you, Ms. Normark !

I have so much to say that I can’t even write because the thoughts are just coming too many, too fast.

New developments since my niece’s birthday; my sending balloons and flowers opened Pandora’s Box.

I have just been made aware that the people who have my niece have yet to her she’s adopted.

She is now ten years old and has not a clue that she has a whole family waiting for her, nor does she know the circumstances under which she was taken.

I have been absolutely beside myself since two days after her birthday when I found out this crucial detail. I have to sit down and slow down, breathe, and try to explain this madness in a rational way, and I’m going to need a little more time to do that.

I’m need to figure out how I’m going to write this part. Ever since I found that out, I have able to think of nothing else. This only proves what I have said all along; they are going to dress her up and shape her into what they want her to be, while trying to completely eliminate her God-given family.

Their own little doll, their own little lies.

Today I sort of took a day off from the world.

I sat on my comfortable, plush bed with my baby daughter next to me and was thankful for every moment. I believe God sent her to me to help heal and soften my heart. She brought magic back to my world. I couldn’t even lay eyes on a baby girl for ten years without wanting to cry. She came 13 years after I prayed for her, but she came, healthy and beautiful.

Her little presence made me not want to give up; looking at her I realized I had to live for her sake, to protect her, to love and care for her. She gave me the extra push I needed to make it through today.

But …. I allowed myself to grieve. I cried softly, then sobbed out loud because I couldn’t help it. The hurt had to get out somehow.

I tried to make a very painful day as manageable as possible. I wrote to my niece, made her a card, and sent flowers and balloons to her door. I couldn’t help it. Now that she can read and understand, now that she is growing up, slowly we can reunite.

The last years we haven’t seen her we have been waiting for her to get to this point. I explained thoroughly before why we had to cease visits, for the time being, and I think the entire family being near-death, losing our marriages, being shipped far away, family split apart, being restricted with every phone call, every visit being watched and treated like animals, we had no choice but to wait until she got bigger. We need her to be able to understand. Being ” strangers in the park ” , literally, it was unhealthy for everyone involved.

Freezing at the park, first thing in the morning, restricted to 3 hours with a monitor we were required to pay for because they didn’t ‘trust’ us. That is so ridiculous that it’s almost funny. We’re not the ones who ripped a baby away from an unknowing and loving family that wanted their baby. We could never do such a thing regardless of the paperwork we had. I would have said,          ‘ void it all ‘, and would place that child in the arms of the mother myself, personally. Along with a big hug and wishing them the best of life together.

I would think that God had another baby in mind for me, and I would have waited for a child that literally had no one.  I couldn’t take a child away from their blood family to make a pretend one of my own. All the piles of paperwork in the world will never make her ‘theirs.’

Ever so gently we will ease our way into her life and heart, and there will be no turning back. I have the utmost faith that my niece will one day look at me and say “auntie.”  It will happen and when it does, I will thank God that He answered. I will feel free.

For the last two years I have left messages for attorneys that won’t call me back because they know where our family stands and what our family believes to be true; which is an adoption-for-profit set up by a third-party who had no right to do anything of the sort.

So we just wait until that light at the end of the tunnel, which is my niece’s eighteenth birthday. We’re more than halfway there, one day we’ll be done having to wait.

I’m glad I made it through today and I’m more glad that I will keep that same faith tomorrow. I will never give up hope, I will stand strong in waiting for my niece to come home.

One day closer ….

What I would have done today…. Because I still get to make a wish for my niece ….

.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~.
I would have gotten up and scattered turquoise and pink balloons through the house. Flowers would be delivered to your school this afternoon. I would be there to meet you for lunch, with pizza, cupcakes, and balloons for your classmates.

After school would have been time spent together, your favorite dinner (hopefully one day I’ll know what that is), and maybe a movie since it’s a school night.

Of course a family celebration and barbecue would be happening on Sunday afternoon. Since this is a milestone birthday, I would have tastefully overdone the decorations. (smile)

The event planner in me would have made sure every detail was perfect; from appetizer trays to the goodie bags. The auntie in me would have pulled you aside and given you the biggest hug, and of course the best present. I’ve literally visualized this day for so long I can’t believe it’s finally here.

Here it is and all I want to do is sit still in the dark and not even speak. I feel tears welling up in my eyes and they just fall one after another. I swallow hard because it hurts.

One day it won’t be like this. We’ll be catching up, we’ll be falling in love moment by moment. We’ll have her to hold.

The most important thing I would’ve given you today was me. The love I have for you fills my heart and only gets deeper. If it takes a thousand years, we will find each other, be able to reach and feel the other reach back ….

Happy 10th Birthday, sweetheart….

I love you so much.

Love,

Auntie