After leaving the doctor’s office (see my last post) , and going back to my parents to pack up my belongings leaving for good, I went and stayed with a friend. I did not tell them where I was going.
I did not want any contact from them.
In many ways this was very hard on me. I loved my Mother with all my heart. The older I got the stronger our relationship grew. In many ways she had been my best friend. We talked about all sorts of things and would spend many late nights sharing our hopes, dreams and so much more. I was her protector from the violence my Father showered her with. Our bond was very strong and I thought it could never be broken.
I was wrong.
Sometime later my Mother called me and said she wanted to see me. I was not open to it, but she was convincing that it would be positive, for both of us.
She came and picked me up.
I asked her where we were going and she said something along the lines of “you’ll see”. The longer we drove the more I pushed her for an answer of where we were going, which she was not prepared to give me. We seemed to drive for hours. Finally we pulled up in front of a house I had never been to before. I had no idea where we were. As she unbuckled her seat belt I told her I would not get out of the car until she told me what we were doing here. She finally said we are here to see our lawyer.
I broke into tears.
Instinctively I knew what this meeting with the lawyer was about. Legally Jamie was still mine, I never signed any papers and had no intention of doing so. I turned to her and with tears streaming down my face I said “don’t make me do this”. She didn’t look at me with sadness, she looked at me with conviction. “Please help me get my baby back” I said to her, my voice cracking as my breathing became labored.
“Please don’t make me do this” I said as I could feel my heart breaking.
My Mother got out of the car and came around to my side, opened the door, and said come with me. I continued to beg her not to make me do this. It fell on deaf ears. She took my arm and almost dragged me into the house.
As I cried I kept saying “please don’t make me do this”. She just pulled me to the house even as I tried to pull away from her.
The lawyer was at the door to greet us. He, like my Mother, just had this look of conviction and did not react to what had become, me in hysterics.
We walked in the house and all I remember seeing was a long staircase and a small table at the side of the staircase with papers on it. I turned to my Mother and again begged her not to make me do it.
My Mother stood with the lawyer and said “the adoptive parents want this settled, it’s time you sign the adoption papers”. I yelled out “who cares about the adoptive parents, he is my son and I want him back”.
So many thoughts were swirling through my mind. The strongest was that I could run. but I had no idea where I was. I started to back away from them and said:
“I will never sign any papers, he is my son, please don’t make me do this”.
After what seemed like hours the lawyer and my Mother started talking, quietly enough that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Again my Mother said “you have to sign the adoption papers”. I refused, again crying “don’t make me do this”, turned and walked out the door.
I sat on the curb holding my head crying. How could my Mother who said she loved me, who had been my best friend, do this to me.
Not too long after my Mother came out and said let’s go. When we got in the car I said over and over through streams of tears “please help me get my son back”. She never answered and drove me back to my friends home, let me out of the car, and left.
She never said a word to me, never held me as my tears flowed. She just left.
To this day I have no memory of signing any papers. All I can conclude from that meeting was that my Mother signed the papers because I was not of legal age.
Hate is a strong word, but how could I continue to love my Mother who would do this to me.
