The owner of the site is not responsible for the above banners or to the sites to which they may lead. Linda H's Story
I was not that bad of a person, in 1968, I was kind of in a limbo world, my father was disabled, and there were eight of us children. As each one of approached the age to go out to work to help support the family,we did so, unconditionally.
When we did get to vacation, we went to Wildwood, N.J. My parents had friends who lived not too far from where we rented. I was crazy about one of their sons, who was the same age as I. Well, Bill was going to Vietnam, and his parents had a dinner for him the night before he left. After dinner, Bill and I went for a ride, parked in a moonlit drive, and got carried away.
Three months later, I knew something was wrong, my mother took me to the doctors, and I was pregnant. My Father was horrified. This didn't happen in his family. So, my Mom went off in search for a home for unwed mothers, we went to a few, and selected the Booth Home for Unwed Mothers.
I went there in June, 1969 to stay for the duration of my pregnancy. It was instilled in all of us girls that that was why we were there, to give birth, and to give the baby up for adoption, to a family who could have no children of their own. We were a Vessel!! We were in a make believe world, talked about everything but the child we were carrying. There were no ultrasounds in 1969, In August, I developed pre-eclampsia, and had to live on the medical floor for the duration of my pregnancy., however, the Doctor knew something was up....she ordered an Xray, and to the surpirse of myself and all concerned, I was having TWINS! I somehow thought that this would change my parents mind about giving the babies up for adoption, but was dismayed to learn that it didn't change a thing, only made matters worse!!
After 36 hours of labor, with no anesthesia, my sons were both born breech. The pain was unbearable, I thought, at the time, little did I know the pain would only get worse, and turn my life into a rollercoaster of ups and downs. I got to hold the babies just one time, to look into their sweet faces, and tell them that I loved, them, and was doing what was best for them. The minute that they took the babies away, a part of me turned to stone. I blocked everything out. I was depressed, I was alone, I had nothng. The birth father didn't want anything to do with me, after all, he "hardly knew me". He had twins in his familiy, 2 sets, actually.
As I had disgraced my family, I had no home to go to. I remember when I had to leave Booth, I only remember leaving, getting on a bus, and going to the local YMCA for a room. It was a living nightmare, one I will never fully recover from. It was as though I was living in a limbo, angry for having my sons taken from me, resentful because I had to live in a 4X6 room, in downtown Phila., scared, I shut down. I got involved with the wrong people, and I ended up being found on a bus, all alone, and sick, having taken some kind of drug.
The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital with my Father & Mother looking down at me with such disgust in their eyes, I was really messing up. My Father put me into a mental hospital to get help. Help, from what? Myself?? Those days were the hardest. The adoption agency was so kind as to pick me up from the mental hospital and drive me into town to the court hearing, and have me sign the relinquishment papers.....I really don't have too much memory or if, as I was on some kine of tranquilizer. I don't even remember anyone being kind to me, or offering me help. The social worker drove me back to the mental hospital. My older sister felt sorry for me, and allowed me to come and live with her. I did, got a job, and went on with my life....or so I thought.
My father was very ill, and as he lay dying, we all had a moment with him, to hear his last wishes, his wish for me was to find a man, settle down, and not to be a burden on my Mother. So, I did just that, married the first guy who I was attracted to. I knew I was not a whole person, knew I would never be. My father died that year, in April 1971, I got married in June, 1991, because I could do this for my father.
When I told my husband of the twins, he was understanding, and thought it was a novel thing to have happened. By now the twins were 2 years old. My husband wanted to go to court to get the twins back. He wanted to get a lawyer,and say that I was incompetent to sign any relinquishment papers. Imagine his dismay when I said "NO". He couldn't understand my position, saying that it just was not right to take the boys from the only parents they knwo, and from the parents who came to love them. That that was a decison I made for the second time, I came more to "like" myself, and to be a little less hard on myself. Not so for my husband. He said I was cold and heartless, and I was making a mistake. I said, "So be it", I will not take those babies from their parents. I went on to have 2 daughters, in 1972 and 1976, but, there was a part of me that I could never let anyone touch, it was a hole in my heart, for the sons I bore and gave up. Did I make the right decision?? On and on, I questioned myself, at the same time trying to be a good mother to the girls God had blessed me with.
Needess to say, the marriage didn't work out, and I was left to raise my two girls alone. Now I had to take action!! I had to find strength im my self to get on with my life. I had to survive, and I did. I went back to school and got my GED , went on to nursing school, and made a life for my girls. But, the sorrow never went away....friends said I was dwelling on the past, forget it!! But, I couldn't, and I still can't. My mother died in 1979, which was the year I left my husband, had a hysterctomy for medical reasons, and, struggled to find something to hold onto. I found God, I found my girls, and I found my strength, I was going to be a survivor!!! Well, I am a survivor, but I am also the Natural Mother to two sons, I could not forget..... how could I forget such a loss?
When the boys turned 18, I started to search for them. I registered with the ISRR, contacted the adoption agency, paid $300.00 of my meager savings, and the result: "Sorry, I can't find your sons". I will find my sons. I am a survivor of the worst atrocity there could ever be, a closed adoption. That's my story.
Each time I tell my story, I cry. I cry for my Mother, and Father, who I dissapointed in my teen years, I cry for the sons who I carried and gave life to, I cry for the part of me that could never even allow my daughters in. I cry, but I feel that when I cry, I am cleansing myself, getting all of the "muck" out from deep within my very soul. I was forturnate in having a very wonderful, sensitive therapist, who helped me to put myself back together again. Yes, I am a survivor, and I WILL find my Identical twin sons, those precious little babies who I gave to life to, and had to give them up because I loved them. I'm sorry if this is too long, but it is my story, my long, painful saga of being a birthmother.
I am a birthmom in search of identical twin sons whose date of birth is 9-1-69 and were born in Booth Maternity Phila., Pa,.
I WILL NEVER STOP SEARCHING.
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