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Our Son's Story
A Word From A Survivor
IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHTDeep into our sleep We are taken by the sounds in The night the sound of an ambulance Pulls into sleep at night, The distant sound of a train Pulls us deeper and deeper Into sleep, never a way to Escape the nightly ritual Of sounds never a way to escape The words coming from The walls, the ever present Walls, the ever present sounds, Words in the walls, How helpless feeling We soon become how Mesmerizing those sounds and words Become in the still of the night, Leading us deeper and deeper into Sleep, soon, all to soon shadowy Features seem to appear on the walls, They are a part of our sleep Our dream like sleep They become part of In the still of the night Until they become part of us Pictures of young girls, Pregnant girls just like us Full of fear, sadness Aloneness, just like us Soon all to soon The girls seem to be getting Hurt, we can see it in their faces Hear it in their screams Yet it is the still of The night, all of us Young girls are tucked safely away Placed by our families In a very safe place Where no one will ever Know, nothing of our Disgrace, nothing of In the still of the night. Ever so slowly were their processions In the still of the night Ever so methodically In the still of the night Time will show us more and more What is to be, In the still of the night Soon our daytime hours Become blurred, dazed as We begin to accept our plight The walls have told us for hours, Days, there is no escape In the still of the night We will soon begin a long Torturous journey in the still Of the night, a journey so horrible We can't see it with our Conscious mind it is permanently Scarred into our Subconscious mind In the still of the night. ----Mary J. THIS POEM IS OWNED BY THE AUTHOR
I WAS A BIRTHMOTHER OF THE 1960'SI was placed in a Catholic Charities home for unwed mothers in 1965 by my mother in Peoria Illinois. When she put me there I had NO INTENTIONS of giving my baby up for adoption. I was just going to have my baby & do what ever I had to do to leave. I made it very clear to the housemothers that I was going to take my baby home with me. Through the many things that were done to me in that house by the housemothers I lost my son & was sent home without him. I never knew what happened to me in that house until after I was reunited with my birthson. On Thanksgiving Day 1991 I was reunited with my birthson by phone. AT LAST I had hoped that he had a happy childhood, but unfortunately I was wrong. He informed me that he had tried running away from the people that had him three times by the time he turned 7. He told me that he was trying to find his real mommy, he knew he didn't belong with the people that had him. He told us that they picked up in the middle of the night & moved out ot state for fear that he would find his real mother. Every birthmother hopes their birthchild has a happy childhood, but on that my worst fear had come to reality, he had been severely abused all of his life until he was finally able to get away from them. Once we were reunited & he learned his birthname, he changed his name & his families name to his birthname.
COPYRIGHT 1997 & 1998 BY MARK & MARY JIBBENI HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS FOR BIRTHMOTHERS: Have you tried to get information about your birthchild & the agency told you that it is sealed & you can't get it, or there is no information? When you were told this did you quit or did you try other means of searching? Do you want to block the stay in the maternity home completely out of your mind as if it never happened? Have you thought about searching but for some reason or another haven't? IF YOU DON'T ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS TO ME AT LEAST ANSWER THEM TO YOURSELF PLEASE FEEL FREE TO EMAIL ME, I WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO OTHER BIRTHMOTHERS email me
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