Face from the past
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| Face from the past A True story from Take a Break Magazine 05 Jan 2006. Source: Take a Break Magazine This is an adoption story, with a happy ending. Edited by Elise Turner and Sally Ferguson. E Mail: tab.sally@bauer.co.uk Send your Story to Take A Break Magazine I hugged my 2 daughters against me. We all smiled and someone took a photo. Jodie was four and Jessica was three. With their dark eyes and regular features they looked like little replicas of me. I loved them both very much. It was an image of unity and I should have been happy. But the problem was that we weren’t united at all. Jessica was in foster care and Jodie and I were just visiting her. I didn’t like the situation but I thought it was for the best. Why Jessica and not Jodie? It had been an agonising decision. After Jessica’s birth I had suffered from depression. I was unable to eat or sleep and hardly left the house. I had associated the way I was feeling with Jessica. I was so ashamed. I really did love her. I just couldn’t cope. She was a bright, lively, loving child and I believed she deserved more than I could give. So when she was three I asked for her to be fostered. It was only meant to be until I felt better. After a few weeks I discovered I was pregnant again. I was terrified. I booked a termination but I couldn’t go through with it. Then I broke up with Jessica’s father and made a rash decision. I rang my social worker and said “Perhaps the best thing all round would be for Jessica to be adopted by a nice family. She’s suffered enough already and it isn’t fair on her”. The social worker said “”Don’t rush into anything Shirley see how you feel after the baby’s born”. I was glad she said that. I changed my mind very quickly and over the next few months I started to see things more clearly. Each time I visited Jessica she’d fling her arms round me and tell me she loved me. And Jodie missed her. I realised that no matter how hard it might be, there was one thing I had to do. When I was eight months pregnant I rang the social worker again. “I want Jessica to come home” I told her. She said “I’ll get back to you”. I collected Jodie from the nursery school. When I told her that her sister would be coming back to us, she was very excited. We both were. But when we got home an envelope was waiting on the doormat. I ripped it open. As I read the letter I started to shake. It was an emergency protection order forbidding me from going anywhere near Jessica. What’s more, social services wanted her adopted permanently. I called the social worker again. “I made a mistake” I said. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I thought you understood”. “What if you change your mind again?” she said. “Its time Jessica had a proper home. I’m sorry”. I was devastated. I crouched down on the carpet and cried. But I was determined to fight for my daughter. I contacted a solicitor and we prepared to go to court. A few weeks later I gave birth to a son, Aaron. When I held him in my arms I wanted Jessica back more than ever. Five months later the court case went ahead. Jessica’s adoption was confirmed. I cried as though I would never stop. We were allowed one final visit. I took Jodie and baby Aaron to see her. It was the first time Jessica had met her brother and she was transfixed. For two hours she cuddled him, fed him and bounced him on her knee. It was heartbreaking to watch. Then someone said “Its time to go”. I hugged and kissed her over and over again. “Bye Darling” I said. “I love you”. “Bye Mummy” she replied. Jessica was five years old. She didn’t understand. But I understood. It was agony. We filed out of the room. Finally I allowed myself to cry. I didn’t leave my house for two weeks. I tried to appeal but the court decision was final. I was no longer allowed to contact Jessica and she would only be given the option to contact me when she was 18. That was 13 years away. She would have forgotten all about me by then. I was permitted only a letter and photograph every Christmas. I’d lost her forever. That first Christmas without her was terrible. I cooked dinner and smiled as I watched Jodie tear open her presents. But inside I was crying. The house always felt so empty without her. Years passed and the adoption agency continued to forward photos of her from her adoptive family. I could see that she was developing into a beautiful child like Jodie. But their similarities only reminded me of what I was missing. I’d listen to Jodie’s stories about school and wish I could do the same for Jessica. I’d stare at her pictures and desperately wish that her image was a real person I could hug and kiss. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was for letting her go. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. She never left my mind. When I passed any dark haired girl in the street I’d gaze to see if it was her. On her birthday I would cry. I tried to get on with my life for Jodie and Aaron’s sakes. But I never stopped thinking about Jessica. Nor did they. I would tell them about their sister and they’d ask me questions. “Why did she go Mum?” Jodie said “Why did she leave? Doesn’t she love us anymore?” I didn’t know how to answer. In time I fell in love again. His name was Paul. When Jodie was 13 we got married. It was a lovely day. But that night Jodie said “Jess should have been there today mum. I miss her so much.”. “I know love” I said. We were used to crying by then. Jessica was now 12. We hadn’t seen her for almost eight years. I wondered whether she remembered me. I wondered what she thought about me. Did she hate me? Would she get in touch when she was old enough? It was still six years until her 18th birthday. I’d have to wait a long time to find out. I feared that I never would. One day a few months later Jodie went to the shops to buy some sweets. When I drove to collect her, her face was white. “What’s wrong?” I said. She started to cry. “I’ve just seen her” she said. I didn’t need to ask who. “You must be imagining things love” I said. “She can’t be living so near us”. “It was definitely her” she said. “I recognised her from the photos. She knew me too”. I could hardly think. My mind was racing. I knew that by law I was not allowed to contact her. I forced myself to start the car and began driving away. “Stop!” Jodie shouted. I pulled the car back to the kerb and she pointed to a group of girls. One of them was crying. I knew her instantly. “I’m going over” Jodie said. Before I could say anything she was out of the car. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. Jodie approached the group and said something. One girl with dark brown hair nodded. Then the girl flung her arms round Jodie. She really was Jessica! I tried hard to swallow the lump in my throat. All I wanted to do was jump out of the car, scoop her into my arms and tell her that I loved her. But I was frozen. I felt that if I moved, the scene before my eyes would dissolve. I was terrified it was all a dream. After a short while the girls walked towards me. They were both crying. I wound down the car window. “Hello mum” Jessica said. I started to cry. In between sobs I said “I can’t believe it’s you”. We stared at each other. Nobody knew what to say. After a while she said “I’ve missed you”. “We’ve missed you too Jessica”. There was so much to explain but I didn’t know where to start. Jessica and Jodie exchanged mobile numbers. Jessica said “I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you”. We said goodbye. I was still in a state of shock. I drove home in a daze with tears running down my face, torn between the ecstacy of seeing my daughter and the fear of what would happen if anyone found out. I’d ruined Jessica’s life once before and I didn’t want to do it again. At home we told Paul and Aaron. By then Aaron was eight. “I want to see Jessica” he said. But I was worried that social services would find out. In the end I decided to do the right thing. I rang and told them everything. They didn’t thank me. “Do not contact Jessica again” said the woman on the phone. I was distraught. I’d lost her all over again. But two days later Jessica called. “I don’t care what they say” she said. “Now that I’ve found you I’m not losing you again”. I was worried that we’d get into trouble. But social services seemed to realise that it was what both of us wanted. From then on Jessica was allowed to call me. She would ring me almost every day and we’d chat away for hours about the holidays she’s been on, her friends, her school and her life. She told me that she liked gymnastics and long distance running, just as I had at her age. Her adoptive parents seemed very nice. I was glad. But Jessica had a wish. “I want to come home” she told me. “I won’t be happy until I’m home”. I was pleased to hear that she wanted to be with me that I could barely speak. “I want that too” I whispered. I battled on and eventually had meetings with social services. Jessica’s adoptive parents agreed to let her come to Jodie’s 13th birthday party. When she arrived at our home in Bartle Lane, Bradford, West Yorkshire, I opened the door and she stepped straight into my arms, Aaron and Jodie cheered. Everyone hugged. All I could say was “I’m so sorry, Jessica I love you”. “It’s ok mum”, she said. “I love you too.” It was the best thing I’d ever heard. We had a great day and from then on Jessica was allowed to spend five hours with us every Saturday. When it was time for her to go home she always cried. “Can’t I spend just one more hour?” she’d say. I hated seeing her go. Then at 10.30 one night she called. “I’ve run away” she said. “Will you come and pick me up?” It was cold and dark outside. I didn’t hesitate. I drove to where she was. As soon as she saw me, she ran into my arms. “Now that I’ve met you I know where I belong” she said. “You’re my real family. I want to come home”. We went back to my house and I called social services. At midnight a social worker came round. “Why did you run away Jessica?” she said. “I want my real family” she said. “It’s not fair that I was taken away in the first place. I’m not leaving again”. The social worker looked at me. “And you?” she said. Finally I had my chance. “I’ve always wanted her back” I said. “I just want to do the right thing by everyone”. She said “I can see that Jessica wants to stay”. She agreed for her to remain with us that night. But the next day Jessica refused to return to her adoptive home. She stayed with us. We went to court and six months later I was granted a residency order for her, as well as full parental responsibility. Since then Jessica has remained at home with us. I feel guilty about taking Jessica from her adoptive parents. I appreciate their commitment. I know how hard it is to be separated from a child. But it was devastating to have let Jessica go in the first place. I couldn’t have lost her a second time. That first Christmas I made up for the ones I’d missed, and showered Jessica with presents. Now she is 16. We often talk of her time away from our family. One day Jessica said “I do understand why you did it Mum. I’m glad you helped me come home”. “I’m glad too” I said. I am very lucky. |
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