MY STORY

I was born and raised on the eastern plains of Colorado....about 50 miles east of Colorado Springs. I was one of 6 children. We lived on a farm that my grandparents had homesteaded in the late 1800's. My father was born there.

While growing up, I recall being very close to my father...not as close with my mother...she and I hardly ever saw eye to eye on anything. I still don't know why. Having been raised on a farm and not having television or the exposure to "city life" I remained quite naive and just believed what "authority figures" said as "the gospel truth."

After graduating from high school, I left the farm and moved into Colorado Springs where I began my first job at a bank. I met Bill, my husband of still today and the birth father of our son. He had been drafted into the US Army and was stationed at Ft. Carson. I met him thru some friends of my older sister who she had met while she was a waitress during the summer months while not in college. I really fell for him....knew that as a Catholic, I had no chance of ever being able to marry him as he was the son of a Southern Baptist Minister.

We dated for a little over a year before I "consented" to doing the "duty" - (as my daughter calls it) - and that very, very first time I got pregnant. When I say we dated for over a year, I mean, we saw each other every night during the week and both day and night on weekends...except for those times the platoon was out on "field duty....but I never gave in until that fateful night.

About the same time this happened he learned that he was going to be getting an "early out"...there were too many draftees that had ended their two year military duty and they were not re-upping - they could not possibly discharge them all at the same time. I could not go to my parents and tell them what happened because my mother always said "if you ever get into any kind of trouble, don't come running home," I can still hear those words today. So...with no money, no family to turn to...I "listened" to Bill. He had a brother living in Washington, DC and he called him. Bill and his brother decided it was best we come to Washington and put the baby up for adoption. Well, in my "naive" mind...I just knew we would never do that...that once I arrived in DC, we'd get married and "live happily ever after." The bus trip across country in the middle of February was another chapter all in itself....I won't go into that here.

Bill's brother and his wife were renting a church parsonage at the time...and they rented out rooms to other co-workers, acquaintences...and they called it "The Boarding House." I was never so frightened in my life when meeting these folks; it was just like living in another another world to me. Certainly, it was not what I had been used to out in Colorado.

It was suggested that I check into a home for un-wed mothers. I refused. I said if that was what their intentions were...I wished I'd known as I would have stayed in Colorado. Well, Bill said that I was staying with him and not going anywhere. Since I couldn't get work...being pregnant...I offered to cook the evening meal...all of these folks paid "room and board" to Bill's brother...that money was used to pay for the rent on the house, plus food. Since Bill had just started working and really had no savings his brother told him to save for the hospital and doctor bills. Thank God, I had some medical insurance that was going to cover a good portion of it...so that part was taken care of.

For my "share" I cooked all the evening meals during the week. I would have dinner cooked and ready for them to eat when they all arrived home. We lived within walking distance of a Safeway .. so.. every day I walked to the store, purchased the groceries for that meal, cooked the meal, usually did the dishes and then Bill and I retired to our little corner in the "damp-smelling-unfinished basement." We were given a single-sized bed that had an old mattress that had been from a boat...it had that wierd angle shape on each end. I fixed our "area" up and made it kind of "homey." I spent the days alone...thinking, crying, writing "lies" to my parents...etc. I would take a nap each afternoon. I had a little transistor radio...remember those...I loved country music and I would place it on my stomach for the baby to hear.

My monthly appointments to the doctor were about the only time I ventured into the city. Even then, I would take a cab there and back. I had a wonderful doctor. He was a very nice man.

On July 30, 1964, I awoke very early in the morning...and I knew this was the day as there were little pains that I was timing at about 30 minutes apart. Bill and I got up and called the doctor - he said to go on to the hospital, he would meet us there. Well, we arrived around 6:00 AM....I don't recall anymore what time the doctor showed up...but it seemed like forever. This was a time when this hospital had Candy Strippers. The Candy Stripper that was "assigned" to me was one of the sweetest young girls anyone would have been proud to have along for the "ride." She sat with me the entire day..she was there when my son was born and she was there first thing the next morning. During the labor, she sat on a chair next to me, holding my hand, wiping my face and forehead, bringing me ice water...and some kind of pain pills when it seemed unbearable. I can sort of remember people coming in and I was told they were "students" - I guess they were...but I will always wonder if the adoptive parents were there as well. Maybe one day I will know that.

The labor lasted all day....I don't have the exact time of his birth...but on the one and only sheet of paper I do have, it says that I was in labor for 14 1/2 hours. I don't have a clue what time he was born as I don't know what time they started counting the beginning of labor.

I had the epideral...as I did not want to be put to sleep...I wanted to see my baby..I wanted to hold him. I did see him...they placed him on my stomach and chest and I will always remember his face...he was gorgeous. Then the doctor asked me if I wanted to have him circumcised. I said sure..if that is what he suggested. What was kind of comical...I overheard the doctor say, "poor little fella, he doesn't have much to circumcise." (Do I dare ask him today..ha ha. Just kidding...I would never do that.)

From this point on...it was horrible. The nurses in the recovery room were mean. I was cold and in pain. One finally let me have a blanket and said that I was not to have any pain pills because that was my punishment for what I had done. Later that night I was taken to my room. I was in a lot of pain. I rang the buzzer but it took about an hour before someone finally came in. I asked again for something for pain. I was told that there wasn't anything I could take that would help for pain. Then she brought this light in some sort of a contraption that she had me spread-eagle and she placed this light thing that was in a wooden box. It was pretty humiliating to say the least. Bill came in to visit me after he got off work. I asked him if he'd seen the baby and he said he did. I cried and begged him to change his mind....I wanted to keep the baby. He just wouldn't hear of it. He said we'd already made a decision and that is what he wanted.

After he left the hospital that night, I drug myself out of bed and walked down to the nursery. Our son was near the front...but when these nurses saw me, they quickly ran over and closed the curtain and moved him to the back.

One of them came out after me and grabbed my arm and "escorted" me back to my room. She told me to stay there and not come back down to the nursery.

The next morning, that sweet little Candy Stripper asked me if I'd like to hold him. I said, "yes, I do." She brought him in and it was so nice to be able to hold him, touch him. He looked up at me as if he knew who I was. He smiled...I know he did. About that time, a nurse came in and saw me with him, grabbed him out of my arms, reprimanded the Candy Stripper and myself....and said I was NOT allowed to see him again. A social worker came in later and she wanted me to sign some papers. I said I wasn't going to sign them because I wasn''t sure I was going to be giving him up. She finally agreed to my not signing after she made a phone call to someone. I assume it was a "fake" call...I don't know. Anyhow, she told me to call her when I was discharged. That there were papers to be signed.

I left the hospital...alone...no baby....and cried all the way home. I know you know what that felt like....a very, deep down hurt, emptiness, loss, whatever...but it hurt. I called the hospital the next day and they said he had not been released because he had jaundice and they wanted to keep him for observation. I don't recall if I called back or they called me when he was released, but I remember that I called the Adoption Agency to schedule a visit at the pre-placement foster care home. Bill's brother's wife wanted to go with me...so it was "approved" that she could visit my son with me. When I saw him...it was all I could do to keep from running away with him...but I had no where to run with him. He had put on some weight...his skin was perfect....he had big blue eyes, rosy little cheeks....he was gorgoues. Again, he had a beautiful little smile and he kept looking up at me as I spoke softly to him. Just before I had to give him back, I kissed both of his little cheeks and I whispered in his ear, "I love you....I will be back." It was soooo sad. I never dreamed it would be that hard to leave him. After leaving him, I was to call and schedule a time to meet and sign the relinquishment papers. I begged Bill to please, please, change his mind.

But he wouldn't. So...there was nothing left to do...I went in to the Agency and signed those papers. By the time I arrived back home, I changed my mind and I called to speak to the lady in charge. She was "busy" and would get back to me. She didn't call me back. The next morning I called the first thing and told her I had changed my mind. She said it was too late...that once I signed those papers, I had relinquished my rights as a mother and for me NEVER EVER to call there again...or they could sue me for harrassment. I believed them.

After about 2 months of "getting back to normal" I felt that Bill was never going to want to marry me....so I decided to go back home. I worked long enough to save some money. Bill bought me a first class airline ticket from Baltimore to Denver. When I left him, I figured that was the last time I would ever see him again. I boarded the plane and cried all the way from Baltimore to Denver. An airman saw me crying and he thought I was scared of flying...and he tried to assure me that everything would be ok. Kind of funny looking back on it.

I arrived in Denver where my brother picked me up and drove me home....to that dreaded farm and my parents. When I arrived, my parents treated me like I was still living at home....I was TOLD to help with the chores...do this...do that. Which I did. After a couple of days I asked my Mother if she really knew why I had gone to Washington, DC. She said well...no. I said well, I gave birth to a baby boy...and she said, "Thank God, I just figured you went there to have an abortion." I asked her if she knew any way that I could get him back. She said we could try making some phone calls....I tried again and was told NEVER TO CALL BACK.

Less than a week had passed and Bill called me from Dallas. Little did I know, but as soon as he dropped me off at the airport, he went back and packed his stuff and headed for Dallas...where he called "home." He asked me to come to Dallas and I arranged to be there the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. And...on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, he gave me an engagement ring and asked me to marry him. Of course, I said, yes...we were married on January 9, 1965.....in March of 1967 we moved to MD, in May of 1976 we had a beautiful daughter. I had searched for our bson until March of 1997 when I, with the financial help and encouragement of my brother, for my birthday on 3/14 - hired a professional searcher and within 48 hours I had my bsons name and telephone number. I waited until 4/1/97 to call him....we are still emailing but have not yet met. Hopefully, soon.

Patti D in MD Found bson dob 7/30/64 - made phone contact 4/1/97