I am another mother robbed of my baby daughter
I was six months pregnant when I sought out social services. I was
told that they would help me out financially. By the time I left their
office I had agreed with the worker, she made sense: my baby deserved
a two parent family.
She was a professional and obviously knew what was best for my unborn
baby. I was already depressed over the break up with my boyfriend and
after seeing this social worker ... I became lost in a deeper depression
believing everything she had told me and believing little in myself
...
I talked to my unborn baby trying to explain that she needed to go with
a better family who would provide her with everything. Repeating what
had been put into my head by the social worker, I cried almost every
night and grieved a lot ... I never knew I had options or rights, I
thought that my rent was being paid because I was pregnant.
I lived in a little room with a single bed, a hotplate, a table, one
chair and a transister radio. I must have had a mini-fridge although
I don't remember. I spent my days and nights colouring in a kids' colouring
book and reading true confession books. I never saw anyone except for
an older man who lived above me ... he would knock on my door every
now and then to see if I was ok.
On June 18, 1971, I had a baby girl. I did not know how babies came
from a woman's body. I had no idea what push meant, but when I saw the
baby laying across my stomach, I fell completely in love with her.
During the delivery I was cut in a terrible way {the nurse had to tell
the doctor twice to stop cutting me} and I was put on medication for
eight days. I was also told that it was normal to have my arms strapped
down.
I realised she was real, not just a baby growing inside of me ... she
was my baby, she was conceived out of love and I didn't want to give
her up to adoption..
I had her baby hospital picture taken at the hospital and I would find
clothes to bring her home in, she will share my little bed and we would
be close. We would find a way to make it together.
A few days later when the adoption agent came to the hospital, I hid
my baby behind my back I didn't want the woman to see her.
I told the worker that I had changed my mind and was keeping my baby.
She told me I could not change my mind and isn't your father going to
kill you? I said I don't care any more what my father will do.
She then said I will walk the streets with my baby in my arms. I started
to stutter and then the worker said that a nice couple is already taking
the baby home and I would be responsible for breaking the woman's heart
... my throat was hoarse and I cried, "But I love her!"
She said I was being selfish and was only thinking of myself and if
I really loved my baby I should prove it by allowing her the opportunity
to have a proper life with a two parent family and that my baby would
contact me and thank me for the great life she had.
The woman told me that society would call my baby a bastard. I slowly
sunk into the black hole of depression.
The day of the court hearing I was a zombie and very thin ... nothing
made sense and traffic noise was interferring on my peaceful mind. The
adoption woman came to me and asked me if I would do her a favour and
change her friend's baby's diaper ... I did it ... the baby was a big
girl, not an infant ... the baby was looking at me. I had no emotion
or expression -- not even a hello for this baby -- I was already dead
inside. I believed that this baby belonged to the friend of the adoption
worker.
The worker came back and said thank you and took the baby away.
Before going into the court room she told me that all questions were
to be answered with NO and although one question would sound like I
should say YES"remember" to answer NO ... I did as I was told,
until one question caused the fog to lift from my mind a glimmer of
hope was coming into my senses and I answered, "Yes." ...
The adoption woman was leaning in close towards me and was looking angry
at me ... she whispered to me that I gave the wrong answer, she either
said I was stupid or else I felt stupid like a school kid ... I thought
I must have imagined that I heard the Judge say if you had help do you
think you could raise this baby,
I slipped back into the black hole and answered again to the judge NO,
this time looking at the adoption worker.
Sixteen years later I told my sister about the court hearing and she
told me that the baby from the court house was my own baby. I said,
"No, she belonged to another woman." and my sister said, "Nol
it was your baby ... You were being observed behind a two-way mirror."
I waited for the first eighteen years to pass to meet my daughter. I
bought 18 yrs of birthday cards, wrote letters and waited. I believed
the worker when she said my daughter would contact me at age 18.
When I received non-identifying information about my daughter, I realised
that I had been betrayed, coerced and cheated by the adoption worker.
My baby was put into a foster home for three months and then "freed
for adoption" at 9 months old.
For many years I had reoccurring dreams of running and hiding with my
newborn ... through the forest ... ducking behind bushes and waking
up during the night to find my self crying ... those dreams have finally
stopped 32 years later.
I have been registered with ADR since 1989 and have waited for contact.
I didn't know I could search: I thought I was suppose to wait for her
to search for me.
I have been actively searching the internet search sites since 2001
... that is when I learned how to use a computer and learned that there
are thousands of other women like me who were robbed, cheated, and suffer
the loss of our babies
I found a website for adoptees searching on February 3, 2004 ... There
was my daughter's name and date of birth, the city and the name of the
hospital ... she was searching for me but her email was inactive, she
must have gotten tired of searching and not finding me.
So here I am still searching and waiting. I named my baby April Lynn
Drake, she had grey blue eyes and weighed 8 lbs, 6ozs. She was born
in Toronto, Ontario, at Doctors Hospital on June 18, 1971.
Sincerely
Carmel Drake
- More Adoption 'Counseling' and
Coercion Stories -
