A Word From A Survivor
IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT
Deep 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'S
I 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 JIBBEN
I 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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