I knew at a very young age that I wanted children, lots of them.
Even when I was a little kid I always knew I wanted a loving husband, children, a dog, a couple of cats, a home with a white picket fence. The whole 9 yards.
That was my dream.
I think it was so important to me because my father was a very abusive man. He did so many awful things to destroy our home life. So I wanted a better life. A better life for me and my own family.
This better life included children.
I wanted lots of children. I wanted to show them love, to show them how wonderful the world could be without violence, how wonderful the world could be when you give and show love, to laugh with them, to hold them when they cried, to dance with then when they laughed.
I so wanted to give them what I did not experience.
So when I found myself pregnant at a very young age I was frightened, scared that I would not be able to take care of this child, but elated that I was starting my family, my own family.
But life shows you that what you always wanted is not what you get.
I was too young. I legally had no control over my body. My parents decided what would happen to my child, though I did not know they were making these decisions or that they could make these decisions.
It scares me to this day.
My son was born on April 15th. My son was taken away from me on April 15th. The love of my child, my life as I knew it, changed on April 15th. The dream of having a home full of children, loving them to bits, laughing and sharing each and every step with them died that day.
I knew when he was taken away I would never have another child, and I never did.
Now, as the night falls and I lay my head on my pillow I still long for the family I never had. I close my eyes and see what I envisioned so many years ago. As I try to sleep my heart aches for my son who is part of me and was part of me, who I wanted to be part of our family with a loving husband, a dog, a couple of cats but most of all, him.
