Life After Loss

” Taking time to live life will only inspire your work. “

~ Author Unknown



It took me a lifetime to learn that life after disaster is worth living.

When the news broke that life as we knew it was a thing of the past, it felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe, I fell to the floor, I became sick. I heard my heart thumping in my ears.

I hurt from within so badly, that I didn’t want to live to go through it.

Day after day, my sanity and survival hung in the balance.

I had to rearrange, reevaluate, and redesign my whole life.

It has taken many years for me to comprehend  that although I feel like I died inside, on the outside I am still alive.

I realized I shouldn’t feel guilty if I smiled, if I laughed. God knows the pain is still there no matter how much make-up I wear or how high my heels are.

It hit me that I owed it to my children to make their lives as wonderful as possible. I looked into their eyes, and they were searching for me. They needed me and I began to really feel that.

I made it a point to want to not only live life, but to live it in unique and fulfilling ways. I begged God for His mercy as I placed all of my heartache and paralyzing pain at His feet.

I had to learn to live again, and it wasn’t something that came easily. For a long time, I had to force a smile. But gradually as I prayed my anguish away, I started to dream again.

Life is a gift, and I am worth being alive. I deserve to live in peace instead of pain. God can take something awful and turn it into something beautiful, and that is the light at the end of the tunnel ….





” I’m going to do what’s in the best interest of the child.”

I’ll never forget those words Judge Gamble said.

And I’ll never forget how fast another judge was requested by the adoptive couple’s attorney the moment he finished that statement.

To me, that clearly means that the attorney and the ‘adoptive father’  knew full well that ” in the best interest of the child ” meant that the child would be returned to her rightful family. It was obvious that the best interest of the child meant that the child should stay with her family. It is absolutely in the best interest of a child to remain with the people they belong with, the family they are a part of. If a child is in foster care, if there is no option of a family member to take care of the child, then yes, adoption is an option.

Adoption, the severing of a family, the permanent alternator of a family’s life and future, should be the very last option, acceptable only when there is no other alternative. A child should be kept within their family and all other options should be exhausted before that child is taken away, given a ” new identity ” and a ” new history .” People aren’t to be bought and sold, bargained, or guilted away by people who unfortunately can’t have children of their own; people willing to do  anything to get what they want. They had no problem putting their needs in front of my niece’s needs. You don’t take a child from a family to play house.

I’ve said it a million times ” Adoption is for children without homes, not homes without children.”

You don’t step into someone else’s family and secretly take one of them just because someone was afraid and didn’t know how to tell those that loved them. My sister had a support system, the safety net of her family to fall upon. It would’ve taken us less than two minutes to not only embrace the news but to become completely overjoyed by it. We never got the chance.

Those words, ” in the best interest of the child ” have played over and over again in my mind. I know in my heart what those words meant and what they still mean.

I’ll always trust and believe that WE, our family, is and always will be THE best for my niece. Blood is thicker than water no matter how you drain it. No family is perfect and every family has trials and triumphs, but keeping the family together to love and support each other is vital. You need your family to help get you through tough times, and you need your family to fully enjoy times of celebration.

The moral of the story: family was designed by God; not lawyers, baby-buyers or baby-sellers. Family is sacred, think twice before you barge in and destroy one.

Tragedy Makes the Intimate, Public.

This morning, I was woken up by my broken heart. After another night of bad dreams, it took me a moment to sit up in bed and realize that I was safe and that it was ‘just’ a dream.

The nightmare was awful.

My love was driving, my eldest son in the front seat, my eldest daughter next to me in the backseat, I was sitting behind my son. We were driving across the San Mateo bridge, and although I’m from the Bay Area and frequently cross the bridges, I’m nervous and uncomfortable every time. One thing that makes the San Mateo bridge extra creepy is that for a good length of it, you’re so close to the surface of the water that it looks like you’re riding on top of it.

All of a sudden, the water started rising around the car, then we crashed head on into the rail and the car slammed into the water. It felt so real in the dream that I remember feeling the impact as we hit the water. All of our windows were open and each of them started swimming out of the windows. But I didn’t immediately escape.

Water was rushing through the back of the car and I frantically felt through the water with my right hand looking for a journal that I write to my niece. Even in a dream, I couldn’t leave without it. Once I felt it, I held onto it and then began to try to get out of the car which was rapidly filling with water….
One thing that really bothers me about this whole situation is that telling a story about something so personal such as this, requires very personal information to be put out there. In order to tell the story accurately, I have to include all the gut-wrenching hurtful details that this has all caused. Although I want to crawl in a hole and never make a sound, I have no choice but to lay it all out. Personal life isn’t so personal anymore. Things I never wanted to think about in the first place are now all on the table for the world to know and judge. It bothers me so much to put my/our pain and struggle all out in the open, but I know I have to if I want to really help the reader understand where I’m coming from and what I’m talking about.

I have had a few  too many extremely traumatizing things happen to me in my life and talking about them is something I don’t do. I have my life written in 7 or so journals, simply so I can maintain a certain sense of security. It’s hard to keep track of entries and events when they’re so spread out and in no particular order.

I value my privacy, and I keep so much of my life to myself. You don’t really know about my life unless you were there to personally experience it with me. I’m a private person and I like to keep things tucked away in my heart. The intimacies of my being should be safely kept in that hidden place that no one is allowed to go, and now writing it out, seemingly in neon colors, is extremely difficult for me.

I don’t want to tell anyone how much pain I’m in. I don’t want to say why I’m broken-hearted. I don’t want to say out loud that because of this, I have to adjust my daily life and remember that everything else is beautiful and wonderful. I don’t want to share that I cry in the middle of the night when I’m writing. I don’t want anyone to see me because when it’s over I feel embarrassed that I can’t control it. Losing a child the way we have brings out emotions I never even knew existed. I don’t want to say that it hurts so bad, that sometimes I feel like I need to be held and comforted like a small child. I’ve had more than a few people I’ve met after this ordeal tell me ‘there’s something behind your eyes’  , and I feel like I have to explain because it’s apparent it’s something.

It’s no fun putting my heart on display, I’m still so vulnerable. For being so strong, I feel so fragile. As much as I want  lock my feelings up in a storage trunk and hide it in the attic, it’s just the opposite. You have to talk out tragic things. You have to be able to express what don’t want to otherwise it will weigh you completely down.

I don’t like giving up my privacy but I will to tell our story, to possibly help someone who feels alone and afraid. I write it all out, holding nothing back, despite the fact I want to keep my personal feelings personal.

What should be kept to oneself is now being discussed around the dinner table and being gossiped about over the phone. But the message is important. It isn’t easy to share, but it is necessary. It’s vital that our experience is not hidden away like the ‘dirty little secret’ it was intended to be. 

Smile Through the Storm ….

No longer do I take anything for granted. Never have I been so thankful or aware of the blessings I’ve been given. I wake up with purpose, I look forward to the day ahead. Although much is gone, all is not lost. I’m making the best out of this post-adoption alternate life. I look into my babies’ eyes and feel truly alive. My heart fills full and I just want to pour my love out onto them.

I believe God wants me to be joyful while I wait on Him to act, I should not be waiting in misery. He knows my heart and my plight. He knows what happened but more importantly, how it happened.

I will be what I call ‘anxiously patient’ and I will trust that when it comes time to be reunited with my beloved niece, God will carry us through, heal our battle wounds, and help us put the past behind and give us a bright future to look toward.

At this point, I’m just happy and proud that I have survived this up to this point because it has been so very difficult. It’s hard to balance a happy daily life with a sadness that never goes away. You’re happy at the surface, but down deep lies an ache that weighs your heart down.

God’s love and healing makes my heart feel like it has fluttery-little- wings, a sign that He will never leave me and will always take care of me.

He eases the pain, He shines light in the darkness, and I’m never alone because He is always with me.

I’m blessed, I’m thankful, and I always remember it.

Praise God for His mercy and infinite love …. He heals the broken-hearted, and gives rest to the weary ….


I Miss My Little Love ….

I just miss my niece.

All the technicalities, details, facts; it all matters, but all that aside, I simply just miss her.

Have you ever longed for someone, thought about someone, held someone dear, just absolutely needed someone in your life?

Have you ever felt the emptiness of someone’s absence? Have you ever loved someone who was for some reason or another, beyond your reach?

Does someone unknowingly hold the key to your heart?

Do you ever wish you could get back all the time that you’ve lost with the person your heart misses with each beat?

Have you ever dreamt of someone and the dream was so real that you woke up, and reached for them?

The love I feel for this little girl is unwavering, immense, and overwhelming. It is strong and absolute.

She means the world to me. I pray for her, I ask God to keep us in her heart.

It’s love that keeps hope alive, its faith that makes us stand when we want to fall.

One day, we’ll be reunited and all will be right in the world. All the hurt will float away. Dreams will be fulfilled, wishes will be proven true.

As I wait, I miss her, I miss her, I miss her ….





A Secret Pregnancy = A Private Hell

Just a couple of days ago, I read in the news that a young woman had been arrested for placing her newborn baby in her neighbor’s trash can after she gave birth. It was stated that she was afraid to tell her parents she was pregnant.

As I was reading the story, my heart felt so heavy. I was overcome with emotions. All I could do was close my eyes and sigh. Tears filled my eyes for this mom, baby, and family. It seems so simple to just tell someone you’re pregnant, but so often, it’s not.

One of the reasons I write this blog is to reach out and possibly help someone who may feel alone or may believe they have nowhere to turn. If I could prevent just one mother, father, or family from having to go through what we have, it would be a blessing worth all the blood, sweat, and tears.

The  ‘ secret adoption ‘ our family was thrust into has been devastating and writing about it has become a means of survival.

The love and support I have received from strangers around the world really helps me to keep going. I am driven by love and passion for my niece, fueled by our desperate need for justice.

It’s horribly sad that the young and vulnerable make such rash decisions out of fear and desperation, and having gone through what we have, I see beyond what some would view as ‘ a mother just throwing her child away.’ I’m sure she felt there was no other way and judging her is something people have no right to do. It’s easy to give an opinion, but no one but she walked in her shoes ….  







The More I Learn, The Less I Want To Know

The more I know about this adoption and adoption in general, the less I want to know about it.

I hate going through pages and pages of lies, manipulations, and red flags. I got my Child Development Associate’s Degree just to keep my brain busy while waiting for the babies to be born. I’m an avid learner but some things I just don’t want to know about. While reading through my class material, the whole section on adoption literally made my knees tremble. I wanted to skip the section altogether because just seeing the word adoption written out makes me crazy.

The adoptive mother has a master’s degree in psychology. She knew full well the effects of adoption on the child, mother, and family and still went ahead with it, fixing her own infertility by taking the fruit of another woman’s womb. Adoptions done the ‘ right ‘ way need to be treated delicately, but adoptions done in the dark are absolutely wrong.

When goods, gifts, jewelry, and money are being lavished on someone for a child, in my opinion that is a ‘ baby sale.’ All that and more were given to Letty, my sister never took a dime. Her medical bills remain unpaid, her wages garnished. The adoptive couple swooped in as soon as Letty gave the green light, like vultures, got the brand new baby they wanted, and they were gone. Paperwork was incomplete, rushed, missing, incorrect, so many red flags that Douglas County still doesn’t want to deal with.

There’s not one thing in this case that is right. It doesn’t matter how much evidence you have, when a ‘ Good Ol’ Boy’ town wants to hide something, that’s what they do. They don’t have to answer for anything. They don’t have to explain why one of their court clerks illegally facilitated an adoption from her workplace, while on the clock.

God never forgets and His timing is always perfect. He will hold those accountable and justice will be served one day. Their dirty deeds will be put out there for them to face, to explain. He knows the hearts of those involved, their wicked intentions. You can’t count on a ‘ criminal’s justice system ‘ but you can count on God to be the ultimate judge.