The Station Wagon

I'm five now. Life is taking a turn for the better! Some people have come to ' look' at me and my brother, you know, to see if we are what they want. I can hardly believe it!!!...they want us!!! After several visits from them, it became official,the Welfare Station Wagon pulled up at the orphange and we were to go live with them and become their 'children' .

I was in heaven! They were obviously well off. TOYS!! A beautiful house!! A room of my very own!!! A mommy ....A Daddy....We were going to be a family!!~~ still no hugs~~ but maybe they just had to get to know us.

Being a child, I didn't know about the 'probationary period' of adoption. It lasted six months. A month after we arrived, the Mrs. Mommy got pregnant. It also seems after reading my records that my brother wasn't adjusting very well. I'm really not sure what exactly that meant or how he was acting out....but we basically were just 'too much for the Mrs. Mommy to handle' what with the baby coming and all.

The Station Wagon came back for us.....but hey ......we'd at least get all these neat toys out of the deal!!!.........Being a child, I didn't know.... Rules are....it wouldn't be fair to the other children if we came back with treasures.

...Oh.

Bad Girl

Like I said before, I don't remember a lot about my years at the orphanage. I remember the home...that there were a lot of other children there, but all were boys other than myself and the people who ran the orphanage had a grown daughter who helped out. I found out later the people never took girl children in, as luck would have it ( laugh) they didn't like them....I was the exception because of my brother and the Welfare people wanted to keep us together while court proceedings were ongoing. It's funny in hindsight...... I can remember every corner of the home....... but not anyones face..... Or perhaps...... it's not funny.

Other things I don't remember.....I don't remember ever being happy, or playing, or having for that matter anything to play with...... I never ever remember being hugged. I don't remember ever really 'feeling' anything. Except a constant need for 'something' ...... but not knowing what.

I do remember when I was about six asking the lady who ran the home why I didn't have a mommy and daddy like the other kids in school and her answer was..."Your mommy is in prison."...."She is there because she beat you, and Mommies don't beat good babies, so you must have been a very very bad baby."...

Oh.

So Why Am I Writing This?

Before I continue on, I want to ponder for a minute why I feel such a need to voice my life story.
Am I suddenly getting 'flashbacks' or having visions that have been lying dormant in my brain mercifully for all these years?...........No...... I haven't been blessed with loss of memory. Everyday of my life I have lived with the memories and how they have affected me and those around me.

Outward appearances have me blending into society. I am an attractive, intelligent ,very kind and compassionate person. Everyone who knows me and knows of my past....can't believe it. I hear remarks all the time....You are a survivor!! How blessed you are that you came out of all this and are such a wonderful person... I can't believe you are so 'normal'.
Well, guess what???.......I'm not........ I hurt everyday.....I am painfully unhuggable, yet needing desperately to be hugged. I have no one to talk to , as everyone thinks...I am a survivor.

So please, my captive audience, I don't mean this to be a depressing experience for anyone.....nor do I want anyone to go away from reading this not a better person for the read..... I just want to be validated .....for someone to gain the knowledge that how we make our children feel ......is the adults they become.

........Now, on with my story...

Broken Bones *Broken Soul

I've read the reports....Of how when the Welfare People were finally notified .... they found my brother and myself sitting in a playpen, soiled, hungry, yet strangely unafraid.....with a piece of plywood strapped over the playpen so we couldn't climb out. From the neighbors reports we had been left there for two days while our birth mother decided to go 'have some fun'. I wonder what went through our young minds~~ however I don't wonder why God blessed us with amnesia. We were both malnourished, bruised, and after extensive xrays shown to have numerous fractures. What would possess a human being?? The reports also show how shocked the case workers were after a physical exam showed that I had been sexually assualted...... I was all of two and a half......
SHE (birth mother) was sentenced to five years in prison...... I am still doing my time.

........to be continued

Just Feet

When I try to recover some of my first memories, I find it odd that all I can remember of the people at the orphanage is feet..... I remember always looking down. Odd?....Perhaps not, but I lived there from the age of two and a half to age seven, and cannot recall anyone's face. I do remember, always feeling alone... that something was missing.......I do remember.......... never knowing the comfort of a hug.
I lived here with my brother, who was a year older than myself. I won't mention him very often as who he became is his story ........ if he wishes someday to tell it.
I guess I need to tell how I came to be where I was. I've gathered some information as an adult about my beginnings and as far as I know they are pretty accurate, since they have been confirmed through extensive research of records........ The telling will be a little muddled, but more or less accurate.
I came in existance because of 2 very young people. My birth mother was 14 at my birth and my father was 16. I'm not sure to this day what part of my newborn and toddler life my father played....... but I know that who I am today is because of choices my birth mother made. My father, overwhelmed I'm sure, left soon after my birth and joined the service, from what I understand. He left behind a 14 year old girl with no family and no skills of how to cope let alone support 2 young babies. Am I making excuses for my birth mother for what happened?>>>>NO. Only stating facts. She was a heavy drinker, and drug user, with 2 children in the way.......until......somewhere in her drug induced mind she realized that money could be made. That yes, even back in the 50's there were perverts who would pay to come ' play ' with the little ones....... Am I angry,disgusted,sick to my stomach, violated,unbelieving?~~~~ I don't know..... there are no memories.....only records. There are years ahead in this young toddlers* life full of memories that the records don't have to point out to her......... this is just the beginning.

*note
At some points I realize that I tell this in the 'third party' sense.....I can only suggest that this is a defense mechanism.

Preface

This will be my personal victory. Written for my soul.........There won't be any photos or information in the profile.......As I could be, and am , the person walking next to you at any given time.......Take the time to give the people you meet an encouraging smile, for you never know how hungry their soul is. God Bless any and all who read this......... All I ever wanted was for someone to hear me.
And now......... the journey.