The night we found out that my niece wasn’t coming home was the longest, and it sticks out in my memory plain as day almost 9 years later. It still hurts to think about it, and I’ve been trying to erase it from my memory ever since. If I close my eyes, I can still feel myself laying down on that uncomfortable bed, the covers pulled over my head so my mom wouldn’t know I was still awake.

We were in a hotel room, the four of us together, bound together by blood and heartache. A long way from home, in a city I hated, simply because my heart was being yanked out during this week of pure hell there.

My dad lay asleep in the bed next to the window. Sleeping heavily out of pure exhaustion. My baby sister in the bed next to me, having cried herself to sleep.

My mom sat up, in a chair, no t.v. on, no radio. In the dark, only a crack of light coming through the window. I can only imagine what was going through her mind. She sat there, helpless. A woman who always took care of everything and put her best heart forward, unable to fix or make sense of this life-shattering and life-altering event.

Nothing she could do to take the pain away. Maybe she was thinking about the grand-daughter she would never know. The daughter my sister would never be able to hold. The incredible ache, emptiness, and sorrow that my sister would feel for the rest of her life.

My mind was racing all over the place. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted this to just somehow not be true. How was this happening? How was it possible that such a thing could happen to us?

My mom sat there all night. Quiet and still. I don’t know why I didn’t get up and sit with her. I think maybe my own pain kept me stuck to the bed. My jaw was clenched. I wanted to jump out of the bed, get in the car, go get my niece and bring her home….

That was the night my heart shattered into a million pieces.

That was the night I knew nothing would never, not ever, be the same again. 

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Dedicated to my wonderful and loving mother, who to this day is the one who is always there. Strong and smart, beautiful in every way.

For her dedication to her family, friends, and all those around her. It was her love that kept her up that night. The love for her daughter, Samantha. The love for her grand-daughter, Nevaeh.

That’s what a loving mother does. She sits awake at night, watching over her heartbroken family, silently pleading with God. Knowing there’s nothing she can do, but willing to do anything.

THAT is a Mother’s Love….

Letty was our across-the-street-neighbor, she moved in when I was in 6th grade.

The morning she and her family started moving in, my mom took cereal and milk to them for breakfast, as a kind gesture and friendly welcome.

Before long, I was babysitting both of her sons.

My sister at this time was about 3.

Fast forward 15 years. Through that time a friendship was built, a trust was formed, we looked after their family as if they were our own. Summers had passed, things were  mostly peaceful, typical teen life. Later, Letty and her husband even borrowed money from my parents for a bulk payment on their home, which my parents happily lent them.

In short, we trusted her, we trusted her husband and sons. We were there for them. We cared about them.

So you can imagine our surprise and disgust at the thought of her selling my sister’s baby away. My first and only niece (until recently….a niece just arrived days ago.)

Letty actually facilitating and profiting from the adoption of my niece and the causing the worst heartache I had never felt before and have never felt since.