Archive | August 28, 2013

The Adoptive “Mother”

Up until this point I have hardly mentioned the adoptive mother, Kate.

Today that changes.

I am going to be very candid and honest about the woman who has seen it in her best interest to take my sister’s child under such circumstances.

Keep in mind, at the time the adoption took place, my sister was barely 18. She was scared, pregnant, and keeping an enormous secret. The adoption was set up in a miraculous 28 days, how lucky for the people who have her. A brand new baby with Norwegian decent. They choose to forget that she is almost full blooded Latina, Puerto Rican and Mexican.  She is not the Italian child they are passing her off to be. They gave her a name that has absolutely nothing to do with her heritage.

Here’s what I know:

*  Kate has a Master’s degree in Psychology

*  Her husband Fred works for a prominent bank.

*  Kate wore a hot pink bow in her hair during the trial, as if to appear as naïve and innocent as my sister.

*  She is very materialistic, bragging that there were 13 0r 14 bridesmaids at her wedding.

*  She smiled at me across the court, and did it in a calculated and sneaky way.

*  She had made it impossible to maintain a relationship with my niece, she watches her as if she is a child that is not hers and can be taken at any time.

*  Obviously coaching my niece into saying what her name is  since my niece refers to herself not as “me” or “my”, she calls herself by her name only.

*  On one or our visits, Kate wrote a note and put it in my niece’s lunchbox, saying, “mommy loves you.” So obviously on purpose.

*  During each visit, she and her husband had our family pay a monitor $75 dollars an hour to “watch us” as if WE’RE the ones who have done something wrong. In a public park, that was freezing, with her and her husband sitting in a parked car, glaring at us from across the grass.

* We were given a paper on one of our visits that said we could not photograph or take video of my niece, tell her who we were, and could call her no pet names, we could only call her the name they gave her. Does that mean that they don’t call her any terms of endearment, or are we the only ones exempt from calling her sweet nicknames?

* She and her husband prohibited myself and my family to enter the courtroom when we were going through trial, she obviously wanted my sister alone and frightened, once again.

* She is infertile, having had a surgery related to the infertility while were in Los Angeles.

*  She had the Tiffany bracelet she gave to Lupita engraved. My sister’s had no inscription and she did not accept it anyway.

* She and her husband were on the television show “House Hunters”.


**** ( I had a very rough night last night and had to write before I step out for the afternoon. As this woman and her despicable actions are burning on my mind today, this post will be continued.

I just can’t keep quiet any longer. )







A Broken Heart

I feel so sad, so heartbroken.

This experience has made me fall to my knees, made me cry day and night, even through the night. I wake up with dried tears on my face. It hurts. Time, what is that? One day rolls into the next. I wake up, and don’t know how I’ll get through the day; I go to sleep wondering how did I get through the day.

Is it so wrong for me to want a niece that is rightfully mine? I’m made to feel like “how dare I love her, how dare I want her.”

Is it so horrible that I just can’t seem to get it together after my heart was ripped out with cold, bare hands?

I think people really can die from a broken heart. The anguish and the raw emotion that losing a child brings is something I don’t recognize and hardly know how to explain. Only those that have lost a child can truly understand the emptiness, the sand falling one grain at a time through the hourglass. Each moment no less painful than the previous.

How do you make sense of seeing yourself do things you never would, not doing things you always did? I’ve changed so dramatically. So permanently. I used to love people, now I don’t want anyone I don’t know near me, I just don’t trust anyone. People are capable of terrible things, and they do them with smiles on their faces. They laugh when you cry.

A broken heart changes a person. I’ve developed severe fibromyalgia and can literally feel the pain and worry manifest with extreme body pain the worse my anxiety gets.

All day, I’m super-mom, super-wife and super-teacher.

All night, I’m hurt, I’m worried, I’m absolutely heartbroken.

A daily roller-coaster of comedy and tragedy.

Where Does The Time Go ?..

Another day we missed out on, so much I want to share with you.

So much has been taken from us, but still all I can think of is when our baby girl will be coming home.

She won’t be a baby anymore, and she’s not a baby now. She’s 9, and she has no idea that she has a family that she belongs to, she’s surrounded by strangers playing house.

They have stolen memories, and are raising my nice in a glass house full of lies.

Needless to say, I can’t sleep at night. It’s impossible to rest when there is a knot in your stomach and the nightmares get so bad that I’ve literally tried to jump out of a window after waking up screaming, not knowing what I was doing, and very thankful to have been sleeping on the ground floor.

I’m stuck between anger, bitterness, and confusion and the very word “adoption” makes my blood pressure hit the roof.  I see all these stories of people buying children around the world, people so desperate for a child they’re willing to do anything and take them away from their “real” family who loves them.

I haven’t been able to write for the past few weeks, I’ve just been stuck in heartache. It hurts to think about my niece so far from home, looking into unfamiliar faces that have no business being in her life.

I want to tell her, I want to show her allllllllll the paperwork that she deserves to see. I want her to know that we are waiting for her patiently because the “people” who have her will keep her from us until they no longer can. Nine more years to wait, but halfway there.

I’ll be waiting for my beloved niece. Nine years or nine hundred years, I’ll be right here waiting for her.

With love….