| Biographical Non-Fiction posted May 30, 2016 |
  |
True personal story
A Story Not Yet Told
by patcelaw
The date was January 11, 1958. My child would soon arrive. As I lay on the delivery table, my arms were pulled to the side and strapped down. There was a towel placed across my face. I was told this was what was best, since I was going to relinquish my child for adoption.
It was a Saturday morning and delivery went quickly, as I gave birth to a son. I was told he was a big baby weighing in at 9 pounds, two ounces and twenty-three inches long. They said, "he appears to be a healthy baby."
I wanted so much to see him at that moment. The heartache I was feeling I have never talked about or written about until this writing.
My son was taken from the delivery room and they took the towel from my face and allowed my arms to be free.
Later that morning I asked to see my son and was told, "since you are going to give this child for adoption we cannot allow you to see him until Monday morning when a social worker is here to take you to the nursery."
All through the days of Saturday and Sunday I was left to imagine what my child looked like. I cried and cried.
Finally Monday morning came, the social worker arrived and took me to the nursery to see my son. I was only allowed to see him through the window. He was a big baby for sure and as I looked at him through the glass, I talked to him and told him how sorry I was that I could not be his mother. I didn't know how to pray or what I needed to say, other than, I hoped that he would become a wonderful son to the mother who would adopt him.
I had been told there was a couple who wanted to adopt him. I was told they were quite wealthy and the nursery they had set up in their home was beautiful. That is all I knew about the family who would adopt him as their son.
About a week after he was born, I was taken to the county courthouse where I had to go through the process of signing all the papers needed to relinquish him. I had to give him a name, which I did. I named him Dwight Douglas, a name taken from history.
I spent another week in the home where I had given birth and then sent back home to my family.
I was not allowed to talk to anyone about the birth or what I experienced during the birth.
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Less than nine months later I met a wonderful man. He and I fell in love rather quickly. I knew I had to tell this man about what I had been through as I could see he was getting very serious about me.
"Wayne, I must tell you something that you need to know, I had a son in January and gave him up for adoption."
When I told him of my son, he was stunned and he took me home immediately. I was devastated as I was sure I would never see this man again. I was so in love with him.
Two days later he called and said, "Patricia, could I come to see you and talk with you?"
"Oh, yes I would love to see you as soon as possible."
He came and took me to a lovely spot in the mountains in Southern California.
Stopping the car under a beautiful tree he turned to me and said, "Patricia, I don't care where you have been, or what you have done, what is important to me is what you mean to me now and what you can mean to me in my future."
Five days later he asked me to marry him and we were married three months later.
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Thirty-five years later, after a search of one and one-half years I located the son with the help of a search team called World Wide Tracers. For a flat fee they searched.
On the night before Mother's day in 1993, I called the information operator in the town where the people who adopted him lived. I asked for a phone number for his name. I was given the number. After some discussion with my youngest daughter and my husband, then finally praying to God, I made the phone call.
He and I talked long distance for 92 minutes. He was most interested in finding out all he could about me my life all those years and I was also wanting to know how his life had been.
I told him that he had three half sisters, their names and ages. I told him he had two aunts and three uncles. I briefly told him the story of why I had to give him up for adoption and that I was so sorry. I had been forced to make that decision.
Three weeks later my husband and I traveled to the town in which he lived and we met. I got to meet the lovely lady who had raised him as her son. She had a bit of difficulty that I had located them, but I assured her that I would never come between her and her son. We are now good friends.
After meeting my son and the mother who raised him, I was told the family who were to adopt him, refused
because he was too large a baby, so that is how he was adopted by the family who did raise him.
The date was January 11, 1958. My child would soon arrive. As I lay on the delivery table, my arms were pulled to the side and strapped down. There was a towel placed across my face. I was told this was what was best, since I was going to relinquish my child for adoption.
It was a Saturday morning and delivery went quickly, as I gave birth to a son. I was told he was a big baby weighing in at 9 pounds, two ounces and twenty-three inches long. They said, "he appears to be a healthy baby."
I wanted so much to see him at that moment. The heartache I was feeling I have never talked about or written about until this writing.
My son was taken from the delivery room and they took the towel from my face and allowed my arms to be free.
Later that morning I asked to see my son and was told, "since you are going to give this child for adoption we cannot allow you to see him until Monday morning when a social worker is here to take you to the nursery."
All through the days of Saturday and Sunday I was left to imagine what my child looked like. I cried and cried.
Finally Monday morning came, the social worker arrived and took me to the nursery to see my son. I was only allowed to see him through the window. He was a big baby for sure and as I looked at him through the glass, I talked to him and told him how sorry I was that I could not be his mother. I didn't know how to pray or what I needed to say, other than, I hoped that he would become a wonderful son to the mother who would adopt him.
I had been told there was a couple who wanted to adopt him. I was told they were quite wealthy and the nursery they had set up in their home was beautiful. That is all I knew about the family who would adopt him as their son.
About a week after he was born, I was taken to the county courthouse where I had to go through the process of signing all the papers needed to relinquish him. I had to give him a name, which I did. I named him Dwight Douglas, a name taken from history.
I spent another week in the home where I had given birth and then sent back home to my family.
I was not allowed to talk to anyone about the birth or what I experienced during the birth.
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Less than nine months later I met a wonderful man. He and I fell in love rather quickly. I knew I had to tell this man about what I had been through as I could see he was getting very serious about me.
"Wayne, I must tell you something that you need to know, I had a son in January and gave him up for adoption."
When I told him of my son, he was stunned and he took me home immediately. I was devastated as I was sure I would never see this man again. I was so in love with him.
Two days later he called and said, "Patricia, could I come to see you and talk with you?"
"Oh, yes I would love to see you as soon as possible."
He came and took me to a lovely spot in the mountains in Southern California.
Stopping the car under a beautiful tree he turned to me and said, "Patricia, I don't care where you have been, or what you have done, what is important to me is what you mean to me now and what you can mean to me in my future."
Five days later he asked me to marry him and we were married three months later.
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Thirty-five years later, after a search of one and one-half years I located the son with the help of a search team called World Wide Tracers. For a flat fee they searched.
On the night before Mother's day in 1993, I called the information operator in the town where the people who adopted him lived. I asked for a phone number for his name. I was given the number. After some discussion with my youngest daughter and my husband, then finally praying to God, I made the phone call.
He and I talked long distance for 92 minutes. He was most interested in finding out all he could about me my life all those years and I was also wanting to know how his life had been.
I told him that he had three half sisters, their names and ages. I told him he had two aunts and three uncles. I briefly told him the story of why I had to give him up for adoption and that I was so sorry. I had been forced to make that decision.
Three weeks later my husband and I traveled to the town in which he lived and we met. I got to meet the lovely lady who had raised him as her son. She had a bit of difficulty that I had located them, but I assured her that I would never come between her and her son. We are now good friends.
After meeting my son and the mother who raised him, I was told the family who were to adopt him, refused
because he was too large a baby, so that is how he was adopted by the family who did raise him.
 Recognized |
|
Just one week after my son's birthday in January of this year Bob my son paid me a surprise visit. It was a blessing and I am so thankful that I chose life for my son.
The picture is of Bob, when we were together in January.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. The picture is of Bob, when we were together in January.
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