PAINFUL INTROSPECTION

I thought that I had said all that I felt about adoption emotions, but as the days have passed I have come to realize that there is a painful level that I had hidden from myself, and it is hard to get a grasp on those feelings; they seem to want to burrow in the depths of my heart and mind. I am going to take a deep breath and try to formulate words to describe my even deeper feelings.

The last time that I was in a mental hospital was in 2006. This stay was when they diagnosed that I had Post Traumatic Shock Disorder as a result of the many deprivations and torture that my brother and I went through in our childhood. This was balanced somewhat by the times when mother was well and showed her generous side to us. During this hospital visit I was in intense therapy as the doctors tried to sort through my past. Then one of the therapists made a statement to me that sent me over the edge. She suggested to me that my father was not a very responsible parent and that he had deserted Charley and I to our fate with mother. She said that my daddy was a bad man for standing back and not rescuing us even when he knew all of the things that were going on. When I heard this suggestion it threw me into a tailspin. I began to scream; a silent scream that reached the depths of my soul. Daddy was the one spot of love in our lives and I could not accept that my daddy was anything other than pure love; I could not face that he was also very human. I have not yet come to grips with these hidden emotions. I don't want to face what may be the fact that father had a weak side and that he allowed us to suffer alone, rather than step up to the plate and face mother about her abuse. He was afraid of my mother and could not conquer that fear even to try and save us. (silent scream.)

Another great pain was that once my parents had both passed, that I no longer had any connection with my extended adopted family. It seemed that once my parents were gone that the adoption was null and void. Not one of the cousins that I loved, or the aunts and uncles that I loved, had anything to do with Charley and I after my parent's passing. I would reach out to one of them only to have them hide in the woodwork and never respond to my letters or calls. My beloved Aunt Fanny had passed several years before my parents; I am convinced that she would never have abandoned Charley and I, but I have never understood why my relatives turned their back on us. Fortunately, I was blessed with my own, blood, family; my children and their families. They provide all of the love and support that I could ever need and our family keeps growing.

The last pain that I have been unable to totally come to terms with is the fact that I have a brother and two sisters-blood siblings-that I could find with very little effort, but I don't search them out because I don't want to cause them any more pain than they have already gone through with the loss of their parents. Sometimes I get so hungry for relatives that I contemplate finding them and telling them my story. But what would that do? Give them more pain about their beloved mother's secret past. I can't justify doing that just to satisfy my own wants. Somehow I still dream the dreams of childhood that one day they would miraculously hear of me and seek me out on their own. Realistically, I know that there is a very small chance that that would ever come to pass. My heart silently screams.

Then I hold my grandchildren and great-grandchildren in my arms and that is all that I need to send my heart back to a position of joy and thanksgiving.

Thank you for listening to all of this; sorry that it was so hard getting down to the brass tacks. I think that I have plumbed the depths of my feeling about adoption, but if you have any questions, feel free to leave a comment and I will answer your questions right back. I really appreciate your tolerance of my emotions.

ADOPTION EMOTIONS FINALE

As Charles dialed my birth mother's phone number, I was kneeling on the floor, praying. "Please let her accept my call. Please let her accept me!"

My mother answered the phone call and Charles quickly told her who he was and that I had been searching for her for some time. Shirley quickly responded with, "I can't talk now. Please send me a letter and then we can talk. Please don't call again."

Charles said good-bye and hung up. Then he turned to me and told me that he had talked to my mother and she had said to send a letter and then she would talk to me. I was amped up and could do nothing but pace the floor to dispel my nervous energy. I kept saying, over and over, that I had found my mother AND my father. The Lord had answered all of my prayers and I rejoiced in His blessings. It seemed too wonderful that my search had ended with a total find.

For a week I gathered family pictures of my childhood and pictures of Charles and the children. I wrote my mother a 25 page letter and then I also made a voice tape and had each of my children speak to their grandparents and tell them how happy they were to get to know them and how they were doing in school and at church. When we had all said what was in our hearts, I sealed up the package and shipped it to my mother at her home address. Weeks passed after that, and finally, I received a letter back from my mother.

It was a short letter and came straight to the point. She addressed me as Ruby. She told me that her husband was not my father. That my father was an unknown rapist who had attacked her while she was walking home from work in Walla Walla, Washington. Her parents had sent her to San Diego to have me. She had never told anyone in her immediate family about me and she could not bear to begin to speak of it now. She asked me not to write her or to phone her; please just let her go on with her life. Then she signed it, Shirley.

I was stunned. I had expected, and hoped for, a positive letter and maybe with her saying that she loved me. Instead I read the worst possible news that my father had been a rapist and that she did not want to have contact with me. I felt rejected for the second time, but while it hurt deeply and I still cry when I let my mind go to this subject, I felt that the best gift I could give my mother was to accept what she said and to leave her alone. I wrote a short note stating that I would honor her wishes and that she should not fear me for I loved her and would protect her.

For two more years I heard nothing and I resigned myself to my fate. Then on the third Christmas after writing to her, I received a Christmas card with an update on all of her families' lives. I learned that I had one brother, and two sisters, and their names, their husband's names, and their children's names. She gave me a little flavor of their personalities, but she said nothing about herself or her husband.

The little letters came occasionally and were treasured. She let me know when her husband passed away and when she passed, my oldest sister sent me a card telling me about her passing (I think she thought that I was a distant cousin). One letter told me about her 50th wedding anniversary; one letter told me that her husband was very ill and I got a note when he had passed away.

In the meantime, my daughters had grown up and started families of their own. They were very frustrated by not knowing the health history of my mother and they felt no compunction to obey my mother's request. One day, Becky called my mother and ended up talking to her for several hours. One day when I was visiting Becky and feeling down about my mother, Becky went to the phone and called my mother, then after talking to her for a while, she handed me the phone and for a half of an hour I actually talked to my mother and had the opportunity to tell her that I loved her very much. She seemed like a gentle soul, but she seemed to be frightened by her secret and talking to me was almost more than she could handle. She had several health problems and was not feeling very well, so I only stayed on the phone for a short while. At one point my other daughter, Debby, also called my mother and talked to her for a while. I was happy that she seemed to accept her grandchildren and took it as a partial acceptance.

My mother passed away several years ago and I have wondered many times whether I should try to find my siblings and try to develop a relationship with them. What holds me back is that I would have to tell them a secret about their mother that might traumatize them, and I am not sure that I have the ethical right to disturb their lives. So, I have this letter written to them that I wrote many years ago, but I have never pursued trying to get their addresses. It is a real conundrum to me. My pain, or my siblings pain? I just can't quite justify letting my needs override theirs, so I remain silent.

I would love to hear from you on the subject of adoption. Do you have a personal story about the situation? Did you also find your mother, only to have her reject you again? Have you been able to connect with any of your birth siblings? Are you glad that you searched, despite the results?

I am very grateful for having found my mother and learning about my siblings. Even though mother did not want to have a relationship with me, at least my questions were answered and I no longer felt incomplete. I thank Heavenly Father every day for helping me to find my roots and to have had at least some contact with my birth family. Although it did not turn out how I always dreamed it would, at least I now have closure on the subject and I will see my mother when I get to heaven. I bless her for keeping me for a while and for the love that she did show to little Ruby.

As far as my adoptive parents go, they passed away, Daddy in 1991, and mom in 2000. We had all of us made our peace about my brother's and my childhood experiences and became very close with each other. Charley passed away in 1991, two weeks after Daddy died. I am alone as far as any birth or adopted family goes, but God has blessed me with a huge family of my own and I am very happy and I have been blessed with good friends who love and support me. What more can a person ask for in life?


On Monday, we will start a new subject; I am not sure at this moment what it will be about, but possibly about the progress of the new book. Outskirts Press sent me two possible covers for the book and I will share them with you at the bottom of this page. I hope you have a wonderful weekend and are able to rest and relax. Thank you so much for listening to my story about adoption, I am very happy with the adoption process even though I faced many problems with it in my life. Just think, I could have had to stay in an orphanage until I turned 18 and never known my brother, Charley, or the wonderful people I met in my adoptive families. That would have been a tragedy, from my perspective, and I would have lost out on a lot of love and joy.

                           ___________________________________________

Choice #1:

Choice #2:

Do you have a favorite choice for the new book's cover??

ADOPTION EMOTIONS (C)

In May of 1979, my husband, Charles, and I found my birth mother, Shirley. She lived in a tiny town in the state of Idaho which was about as far north from were we lived as it was possible to be.

It was the culmination of over five years of an intense search, first through the records of the L.D.S. (Mormon) Genealogical Society, second the records in the newspaper and in the County Recorders office in San Diego, California, third through a physical search for people still living in the area of the orphanage, the home where my mother took care of me for the first six weeks of my life, and talking to the members of the church that Shirley and Ralph and Lucile went to, and fourth through the discovery of pictures of my mother and me when I was six weeks old that the residents of the house where Shirley had lived still had in their attic.

My first break came when my mother asked me to go through her records in order to round up all of the receipts she had for preparing the yearly income tax. She was at work and my children were playing in the other room when I opened my mother's lock box and found her receipts, and then found court papers identifying my brother's family in Boston, and court papers that told me the name of my mother (Shirley) and that I was illegitimate. It also had my birth mother's last names, both maiden and married. I felt as though I had just uncovered a rich treasure. I was violently shaking and only had the presence of mind to copy my brother's birth information and to "lift" my own adoption court papers. I realize that it was stealing, but I felt that I was being vindicated by Heavenly Father and I never wanted to lose those papers again. My first act when I returned to my own home, was to call a lady in the phone book that had the same name as my mother and ask her what nationality she belonged to. My soul soared into Heaven when she-after first hesitating-told me that she was Jewish. I had never felt so rich. I held in my hands the paper telling me who I was, and in my heart the knowledge that I was Jewish.

So began the search for my birth mother. I went to the newspaper office and requested micro-fische copies of the newspapers from July 14 through July 21, 1944. There I found the birth announcement stating my mother's AND father's names and the address that they lived at in July 1944. I then searched town records and found the names of the owners of the house where they lived. I went by and saw the house and then found the names of the owners in the phone book. They were still the same owners. I called and talked to them and they actually remembered my mother and me and they surprised me by saying that they had been saving two pictures of my mother and I that she had had them take before taking me to the orphanage. "Surprisingly" they had only recently re-found the pictures and were wondering what to do with them. I went to meet them and they could tell me a little about the character of my mother and what she looked like-her coloring. When they handed me the pictures I almost expired from excitement and joy; there was my beautiful mother holding me in her arms and smiling with pride and happiness. I felt complete.

Search for my birth records at the County Clerk's office showed a hard-bound ledger book with my name and my parents name and address in it. It verified what I had found in the Court papers. I then screwed up my courage and asked if I could see my birth certificate. The lady went into the back and brought out another ledger book and opened it and began to search for my birth certificate. As she flipped through the pages I prayed hard that I would be able to get a look at my original birth certificate. Suddenly she found my page, but she stared at it hard and didn't speak at first. Someone had taken a piece of thin cardboard and taped it over the birth certificate. I wanted in the worst way to rip that piece of cardboard off of the record and take a look for myself. The Clerk stared at the piece of cardboard and then asked me if I had been adopted. I admitted that I had been, and she looked at me sadly and told me that she was sorry but that the birth records had been sealed by the Court. My heart felt bleak and distraught; I knew that I would never be able to see my own birth certificate and I railed at the injustice of it all, but I put my hands behind my back so that I could not rip that cover off, and quietly thanked the Clerk for her help.

We were able to find Mrs. Carpenter who had owned the orphanage and knew both sets of my parents from going to the same church as them. She was able to tell me that my mother had loved me and had come to visit often over the year that I was in the orphanage. She told me that my mother's husband had been stationed overseas in Hawaii during the War and that she (Mrs. Carpenter) had never had the chance to meet him. When Shirley was given permission to join him in Hawaii she was told that only she would be able to go; no children were allowed. At that point my mother knew she had to give me up for adoption. She then asked the people in her church to try and find a home for her baby amongst the members of the church. At that point my adopted parents came to the front and, even though they were far away in Iowa, they said that they would come on a bus and meet the baby with the point of possibly adopting her. They did so, and ended up adopting me.

Several women in the church remembered my mother and they were able to tell me the same story and also tell me about my life in the orphanage as they had helped Mrs. Carpenter to take care of us.

Then, with the help of the L.D.S. genealogical records and other public records, Charles was able to use his skills as an investigator to locate my birth mother's own birth certificate and he then knew my grandparent's names and the town they had lived in. He called and talked to someone with the same last name as my grandparents and they did remember my grandparents and were able to give Charles the address and phone number of my (birth) great-aunt Gertrude who lived in Spokane, Washington.

In the interim we had requested the Supreme Court in Sacramento, California to open up my birth records. They refused my request, but did send me what non-identifying information that they could. I learned that my father was English and born in the State of Washington and that he graduated from High School. I also learned my mother's background and some of the health problems that ran in the family. This was very interesting and answered some of my questions, but it only made me more determined to find my mother.

Finally, one day when the children were in school, Charles called my aunt Gertrude and found her to be very helpful. He said that he was doing a genealogical search and that we were distantly related to her and to Shirley. She gave him my mother's address and phone number and we found out that Shirley was still married to my father.

Charles wanted to make the call at once. I was shaking in fear and excitement and knew that I could not make a rational phone call by myself, so I told him to go ahead and make the call.


Tomorrow we conclude our story and learn whether my birth mother was angry, sad, or delighted to hear from me. Was I accepted with joy, or did I receive another rejection?

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ADOPTION EMOTIONS (B)

I am very grateful for being adopted. The alternative was to remain in foster care or an orphanage until I was an adult of 18. It has been my observation that people who have had to be raised in foster care, or in an orphanage, have even worse stories than mine and Charley's experiences. They seem to be even more alone than those of us who learned to live with parents that were not related to us. Sometimes their entire families have been broken down and they realize that they are missing out on close family relationships. Extreme loneliness and depression can set in, and that will follow them throughout their lives, or at least until they build their own family and know a soul's peace and love.

Many things are said of those who have been adopted: 1) that a high percentage of us have mental disorders brought about by the pressures of being adopted and not feeling as though you truly belonged anywhere 2) that adoptees seem to follow two possible pathways, either they excel in life despite emotional issues, or they become criminals. My mother was obsessed with what her girlfriends were saying about the adoptions. They told her these "facts" and tried to get her to reconsider her decision. She stubbornly refused to listen to them and she felt that with her raising us that we would be perfectly fine. Charley spent a major part of his teen-age years in California Youth Authority and his adult life skirting danger and the police. I, myself, spent years in and out of mental hospitals until they finally diagnosed me with P.T.S.D. and worked with me on the problem.

I believe one thing about adoption, and that is that I feel that all adoptions should be monitored over the years and that the adopted child receive family and individual therapy to address the problems that come up in an adoptee's life. I feel strongly that more personal information should be given to an adoptee, such as their family's health problems, their family's geographic background, their family's religion and cultural background, and how long their ancestors lived overall. Then an adoptee can feel more comfortable bringing their own family into this world and some idea of what health problems may come up as they age.

I am very glad that Ralph and Lucile adopted me. Our childhoods may have been rough and challenging, but at least we had a warm and lovely home, and usually, good food and sufficient clothes and shoes. We had our Christmases and holidays to make life seem sweet, and we had Ralph's limitless love. Lucile was very strict with us, often mutilating us when having one of her out-of-control harangues, but I did learn a lot from her such as perseverance and a love of hard work; reading and learning Latin and medicine from her bookcase full of books; and a love for all of the holidays (Charley and I were "free" on holidays; free from beatings and diatribes. It was the only thing we could hold onto in the hard times which were the other 358 days a year).

As my parents aged, and before Lucile was struck down with senile dementia, dad became even more loving and mom had mellowed out, in some of her ways. They excelled at grandparenthood and loved the grandchildren without reservation. When they became great-grandparents with mixed racial great-grandchildren, they never dropped a beat or said an off word, instead they embraced the new black grandchildren with even greater fervor and they enjoyed a lot of fulfillment in the experience. Mother and I reconciled before she passed away in 2000. We were able to address the issues I had with her treatment of us, and particularly with Charley, and I gave her a verbal forgiveness that lifted a heavy weight from my heart and her soul; she was able to slip away at peace with her life and our relationship. I am so grateful for that final experience and also grateful for the love that I have for her today. My feelings for Ralph are that he was always meant to be my father, but since Lucile could not bear children, I had to find him through the adoption route. I'm sure that God wanted Lucile to be my mother because her teachings and training have stood me well in life and she taught me a great love of God. If I had not had the experiences that I did have, I would not be who I am today, and I am feeling good about being myself (with some reservations, as I am still learning and growing up) and where I am in life.

All of my young and older days were spent in a constant cry for my birth mother to find me. I started actively looking for my birth mother in 1975. I was a Mormon at the time, and was very engrossed in Genealogy. I spent a lot of time and effort gathering data for Lucile's and Ralph's families, and it was very interesting work on both sides. It occurred to me that I might use Genealogy searches to find my mother. My husband, Charles, took over the search and he was determined to find her.


Tomorrow, I will tell you the story of how I found my birth mother, and her reaction to being found.

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This is a picture of the cover for my new book, "THE GOD GAMES: Legend of Kor"

ADOPTION EMOTIONS

I have been hiding for several days because I did not want to write this blog. To write about the story of my adoption is one thing, but to speak about my deepest emotions about the subject is to have to reface those feelings. I find it difficult to begin to put my feelings down on paper, but I know that if I do write what I am really feeling, that it might help out someone else who is struggling with the many mixed emotions. I must trust that you will read this blog with an open heart.

If you were not adopted you may be wondering several questions: 1) How does it feel to be adopted; as a child and as an adult? 2) How do I feel about my birth mother? birth father? 3) What are my inner thoughts about being adopted and that experience in my life? 4) Do I have resentments about my raising? or about my birth mother abandoning me? 5) What were some of my brother, Charley's, thoughts?

Everyone felt that Charley had been dealt a horrible hand in life. He was the son of old Boston shipmakers who lived (live) down the street from the U.S.S. Constitution in Boston Harbor. His mother had disappeared from her family's home and ended up married to a young man who was overseas in the Navy and stationed in San Diego. She became pregnant shortly after he left for overseas duty, the father of the baby would not have anything to do with him, and so she ended up naming the baby boy, Robert Eugene, after her husband. When her husband returned home she tried to convince him that the baby was his and had been named for him, but senior Robert could not be fooled that easily; the time didn't match up. So little Robert's mother gave him to the County and signed him over for adoption.

Enter Ralph and Lucile and Lucile's quest for a son for Ralph. Then add Lucile's desire to push Charley (who was a definite, opinionated, square peg) into a tight, constricting, round mold, and you come up with a high level of punishment and torture that he endured almost every day of his life. As an adult, Charley was an outlaw motorcyclist and built a righteous chopper. He suffered a severe accident on his chopper-racing down a city street at 100 mph until he was stopped suddenly by a car who was backing out of his driveway in front of Charley-that broke his kidneys and ruptured his spleen, had numerous scrapes and contusions, and had a compound fracture of his right arm in three places. He was in County Hospital for over a year, trying to heal. He was then unable to join the Service during the Vietnam War and worked sporadically in several jobs over the years. He was so intelligent and he was gifted on the piano; he could have been a concert pianist-he had been tested-but he could never settle down to practice. I loved Charley very much, but sometimes-when he would stir up my mother by rebelling and she would go into attack mode-I also hated him. I tried so hard to be good and perfect to please mother, but Charley seemed to love getting the best of my mother and he would never let her see him cry or call out even when she was stabbing him; or the steel buckle of the belt cut into his back. Then she would turn on me in her frustration and I would cry heartily and beg her to stop.

Both Charley and I loved our father, Ralph, with all of our hearts and souls. His was the position of love and affection in our lives. He loved everyone he met, no matter the race, culture, or religion. I also loved mother and strove to please her by trying so hard to be perfect, doing my best in school, and believing the same thoughts that she taught us to think. I waited to rebel until the night I turned 18 and crawled out my bedroom window, with all of my stuffed animals, and ran away to my best friend's house. As you can tell, in some areas I was very child-like and naive, I only took one change of clothes. Two weeks later, Charles Hirsch and I got married when he returned from the war.

I became a mother at 19, when my little girl was born. One of the hardest parts of adoption was waiting for my first child to be born. I was so afraid that my child might be another race than myself, and Mr. Hirsch was such a bigot, that I was afraid that if that should happen that he might kill me and our baby. No one, up to that time, had been able to tell me anything about either of my birth parents. I had no idea of their race or their religion, or what country they had immigrated from.  That was the scariest time of my life. Mother could not bring herself to come and be with me when I had my baby; she had never experienced pregnancy and she felt very uncomfortable about the whole subject. She also was not comfortable with babies that were less than six weeks old, so her first visit was when the baby was about two months old. She was an excellent grandmother and turned out to be warm and generous with the grandchildren. Charley and I were both surprised. Daddy, of course, was a very expansive grandfather, adored the children unconditionally, and made every one of them feel very special and unique.

Charley never felt a bond with my mother's relatives, but my father's relatives he dearly loved because they accepted us so totally as family. My grandmother on my mother's side once told me and Charley that, "I wish my grandchildren would be as good to me as you and Charley are." Which was meant as a compliment, but which sentence hurt us deeply because she spoke as if Charley and I were not her "real" grandchildren. Our other aunts and uncles were very accepting, some of the cousins were very accepting, but once our parents and aunts and uncles passed away, both sides of the family forgot about our existence. I dearly love many of those cousins, and I was definitely glad to be a part of their families.

I mourned for my birth mother all of my life, but I gave very little thought and almost no emotion to my birth father. I felt that my birth mother would love me and accept me as I was and I yearned for acceptance and validation as a person. I dreamed almost every night about a meeting between my mother and me. I wrote my mother poems and little songs and hid them until I was an adult. I wanted to be prepared for the day, that I was sure would come, when my birth mother would appear miraculously and take me home to a better life.

Tomorrow, I will give you my "bottom line" emotions regarding my adoption, and the affect on me of being rejected by my birth mother for a second time, in 1979. Also, the tragic loss of my brother in 1991.

RUBY STARTS HER NEW LIFE AS AN ADOPTEE

In June of 1945, Ruby is adopted by Ralph and Lucile and given the new name of Davalene; her nickname became Dee Dee.

Dee Dee was whisked off to Iowa on a Greyhound bus. Her second year was filled by new love and adventure. Her new parents were good to her; there was plenty of food; and she soon developed a deep love for them. Everything was wonderful as a doted-on only child, but Lucile was considering adding another child to her and Ralph's family. She felt strongly that she had gained the little girl that she had so desired and it was only fair that Ralph should have a son to follow in his footsteps. Ralph was adamant that he did not want another child and was happy with their family as it now stood, but Lucile, as usual, did not take Ralph's protests seriously.

Lucile contacted another orphanage that was spreading the word about a little-five-month old baby boy (Robert Eugene) who had been deserted by his mother and father. Lucile jumped at the chance to adopt the little boy and she worked closely with an adoption agency. Ralph made his point about not wanting another child, but Lucile "wore the pants in the family" and insisted on pursuing the adoption. Ralph gave in and signed the adoption papers. Shortly thereafter, little Charles Warren entered our family and Dee Dee was not pleased.


                                                       _____________


Dee Dee looked inside the new crib, set up in a small room just off of the Living Room, and saw a tiny wrapped-up bundle that emitted shrill cries that disturbed her ears. She decided that she would have to get rid of this bothersome and resented new creature by dragging him out of the crib and putting him in the trash can in the kitchen. She reached into the crib and pulled on the baby's blanket. He began to slide to the very edge of the crib and Dee Dee pulled even harder until he was smack up against the crib bars. He was screaming his lungs out and that made Dee Dee even more determined to get rid of him. Suddenly, from nowhere, Lucile appeared in the room and saw what Dee Dee was trying to do. She smacked Dee Dee's hands and asked her just what was she trying to accomplish. Dee Dee answered truthfully and was rewarded by a spanking at the hands of her father, Ralph. It was her first spanking and she saw that Ralph cried as he was forced to smack her repeatedly on her bottom. The spanking made her resent the baby even more. She now realized that her world had changed, to the negative, because of this screaming new "thing." Now she would always have spankings as part of her everyday life, and Ralph and Lucile were no longer perfect in her eyes.

Baby Charles was to begin his new future as a scapegoat. Ralph never warmed up to him and began to stay away from home as long as he possibly could. Lucile never developed love for the new baby and she was angry that Ralph left her to raise the children pretty much alone. She also worked long hours as a nurse and hired our Anabelle to do the actual work of raising us. Charley (Charles) began to be tortured by Lucile when he began walking and getting into things. There were harsh beatings with a belt, hours lying in his crib with his hands and feet tied to the edges of the crib, being tied up with a dog collar and chain when he went outside to play, restriction of food and drink, and having his fingers held in the stove's flames until he was burned critically and almost lost some of his fingers.

Poor Charley was tortured more than Dee Dee was, but Dee Dee was also given extreme punishments, and one punishment that did not work on Charley and that was being told that she was garbage, unworthy, and unloved. Words punished Dee Dee more than spankings. On top of the punishments both Charley and Dee Dee were expected to clean the house, wash the dishes, work in the garden, and do the laundry. When she was five years old, Dee Dee cooked her first meal for her parents and cleaned up afterwards. It was expected from that point on.

The years passed and Charley and Dee Dee both dreamed of running away from home; but where to run to?
Charley kept to himself and spoke very little, Dee Dee dreamed of a mother whom she would never really know, but whom she was sure would love her for herself. She dreamed of her birth mother finding her after all these years and reassuring her that she was deeply loved and missed. Dee Dee fantasized about this the rest of her life and wrote poetry to her "real" mom. She felt that one day she would find her mother and get to question her mother about her past; she felt in her heart that the results would be positive.


Tomorrow, how Dee Dee and Charley found their birth families and the outcome of their searches.

A ROOM FULL OF BARS

Shirley packed all of little Ruby's clothes, diapers, bottles, and toys into a small suitcase then she washed her up and put her in her cutest clothes. Today is the day that Shirley was going to take her to an orphanage about six blocks away. It might only be a temporary placement, but Shirley had to go back to work in order to pay her rent and she could not take Ruby with her. She had met Mrs. Carpenter at church and had come to trust her with the truth of Ruby's birth. Mrs. Carpenter owned an orphanage and said that she would be glad to take care of Ruby while Shirley was working, and then, if she decided to give up Ruby for adoption, she could help her by finding good parents for the baby.

When Shirley finished packing, she asked her landlady to take pictures of her and Ruby so that she would always have a picture of her baby, then, balancing the baby and the suitcase in her arms, she set off for the six-block walk to Mrs. Carpenter's orphanage. It was a miserably hot and humid day and every step filled her with dread so that she walked very slowly. She talked to Ruby as she walked and assured her that soon she would come and take her back home. Once she had a place of her own, and if she could find another woman willing to take care of the baby while she worked.

Mrs. Carpenter welcomed Shirley and took little Ruby and placed her in a crib of her own. Then she suggested to Shirley that she leave immediately in order to help little Ruby start to adjust to a new home. She assured Shirley that she could visit any time. Shirley left with a heavy heart and could hardly walk home for the tears streaming down her face, but she felt strongly that this was the only way she could make the money necessary to eventually be able to care for Ruby again. She would work hard so that the day would come more quickly.

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Ruby was only six weeks old, but even babies are aware of pain and Ruby felt a huge hole where her heart had been. She new that something was different. The warm comfort of her mother's arms was gone. Ruby cried for hours, but the policy of the home was that babies were not to be held unless absolutely necessary, and it seemed that the only time that was possible was when she received her bath. When it was time for her to have a bottle, a stuffed duck with a strap attached was placed next to her head and the bottle was held by the strap. There were so many babies in the home that there was not enough help to be able to feed the babies while being held in human arms, so the bottle was propped up by the duck and Ruby was derided as a "lazy" girl who would not hold the bottle on her own.

Six months passed and Ruby grew and developed. Every week-end Shirley would come for a visit, but the visits were bitter-sweet because they eventually ended and both mother and daughter felt stark pain when they had to be separated again.

When Ruby was eight months old she began to be potty trained and was set for long periods on a chamber pot sitting in a crib. She hated the potty training and could not understand what was expected of her but one thing she understood very well, and that was that if she cried no one would come to rescue her, instead she would be forced to sit even longer on the chamber pot.

Ruby became aware of her surroundings and as she lay in her crib during nap time she looked around her and all she could see was a room full of bars. She could see the sunlight shining through the closed blinds and every once in a while a plane would fly above the home and make a soothing, rumbling sound that she came to love. Often the sound of the plane would put her to sleep.

Most days when the weather was good all of the babies would be driven to Balboa Park, near 6th and Laurel Street, and allowed to lay in the sunshine and play. Those were the best moments for Ruby because she got to be outside in the fresh air, look at all of the trees, and occasionally she would be held as they removed her from the car and set her down on a blanket.

These were days of change for the status of the babies waiting to be adopted. California had only recently passed the "Bastard Laws" which stated that babies could not be adopted for the purpose of putting them to work and established the right of adoptive children to be able to inherit from their adoptive parents; indeed it stated that adopted children MUST be provided for in the adoptive parent's will and could not be discriminated against because of the accident of their birth.

In May of 1944, Shirley heard from her husband who was stationed in Hawaii in the Army. He had the wonderful news that Shirley was now to be allowed to join her husband in Hawaii, and he had made arrangements for her to travel there in September. What was now to happen to little Ruby? Shirley had yet to mention the baby to her husband and now it was too late to begin. What could she possibly tell him that he would understand? She determined that if she wanted to remain married that she would have to put Ruby and her recent experiences into the back of her mind and put the baby up for adoption. She wanted to make sure that Ruby was raised properly so she went to her church and told the pastor and the other ladies that she would have to put Ruby up for adoption and could they help her to find a good home for her. One of the ladies knew of a couple who were members of the church, but were now stationed in Iowa at a prisoner-of-war hospital, and who had spoken of their desire to have a little girl. She called them and told them about little Ruby and the couple said that they would come back to San Diego and see the little girl that Shirley was putting up for adoption. They arrived in San Diego a week later. Their names were Ralph and Lucile and Ralph was in the Army just like Shirley's husband.

When Ralph and Lucile arrived in San Diego they went first to the orphanage to see little Ruby. All of the babies had been dressed up and then propped in chairs so that they could take a good look at all of the babies and be able to choose the one they wanted to adopt. Ralph surveyed the room and then he pointed to little Ruby and turned to Lucile and said, "Spizarenctum (Ralph's pet name for Lucile, it was the name of a patent medicine that was touted to cure all ailments), that's the one for us!"

The Pearsons (Ralph and Lucile) decided in that moment to adopt Ruby and soon the paperwork cleared the courts and they were ready to take her back home to Iowa. Shirley came to the church that first Sunday after they had made their choice, and pulled Ralph aside. She confided in him that she loved her baby very much but that her circumstances made it impossible for her to keep Ruby. She explained to Ralph that her husband was stationed in Hawaii and that she was going to join him there but was not allowed to bring a baby (a slight untruth). Ralph was impressed by her sincerity and reassured her that they would take good care of Ruby and that she would be very loved.

The Pearson's changed little Ruby's name to Davalene, after a cousin by the same name, and within another week they were headed back to Iowa on a greyhound bus.


Tomorrow we follow as baby Davalene grows up and begins a search for her birth mother.

A WEEK OF OBLIVION

This last week seems to have been buried by a sea of oblivion. Nothing got done in the real world; we were caught up with life on the floor of a major children's hospital in Philadelphia (CHOP-Children's Hospital of Philadelphia). William was ill again, his red-cell blood count was only 7.6 out of a possible 16. The doctors suspected that Willie was bleeding internally again; but where? A week of testing ensued where we watched Willie go through so many blood draws, x-rays, CT scans, and assorted other tests. He has very tiny veins so every time they had to draw blood he was in agony as they searched for a "good" vein; but he never cried out although the pain could be seen in his face. William has a quality about him that is very unusual, he is always in a good mood and faces each new test with equanimity.

The doctors and nurses were just outstanding. They were determined to find where Willie was bleeding and get it stopped. But his case was an enigma at first as all the tests were coming back negative for internal bleeding. Finally it was determined that Willie had iron-deficient anemia. It seems that when he was ill in San Diego (April 2013) that his iron reserves were depleted. Since you need iron to make red blood cells, his body had stopped producing new red blood cells, or at least slowed production to a crawl. When he left the hospital in San Diego his count was 9.0, but in the ensuing six weeks it dropped to 7.6. This time around, Willie was prescribed iron twice a day, and he must have a blood test done every week.

His condition was discovered by a routine blood test done in the Pulmonary unit when he came into CHOP to have his breathing tested (he has asthma). That very afternoon (Monday) they called us to tell us to get Willie into the Emergency Room at CHOP as quickly as we could. We were really stunned this time because Willie showed no symptoms at all. He was being his usual funny, witty self; talking "Hirsch-fast" as most of my grandchildren do, and very active. We could detect no new paleness although when they looked under his tongue and eyelids they were a very pale pink-we learned that much at least! It really concerned us that we had been unable to detect Willie's new problem. Last time he had been so lethargic, in a rare negative mood, pale, quick breathing, and rapid heart rate. We had assumed that we would be able to see when Willie had a problem because he would show those symptoms; now that rock was undermined and we must rely on the weekly blood tests. Willie, like most of us, hates the process of being stuck with a needle and it usually takes from three to five attempts for a phlebotomist to find and capture a good vein for him. He is pretty stoic and never cries out, but he instead takes a clean sock and bites on it like women used to do to bear labor pains.

I watch my son, David, take care of William and I am humbled. He is gentle yet firm in guiding Willie, and gives him the purest love. I do not remember doing as well when I was raising my children, including him. When you get older your child-raising days seem to have passed by in a furious rush and I seem to be aware of the mistakes I made more than the truly wonderful moments. (I've got to work on that perception.) David is in Real Estate and is on-call to his clients 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, so he had to drive to Atlantic City and back everyday for his job requirements, then come back in the evening and spend the night on a hospital couch. I stayed at the hospital with Willie and fielded the doctors and nurses questions as best I could. I finally learned to properly pronounce Willie's in-utero diagnosis of CCAM, or Congenital Cystic Adenoid Malformation. When his mother was carrying him she was told that he had CCAM wherein there were tumors filling both of his lungs and pressing against his heart. As a result, his heart was displaced to the right, and the aorta was clamped shut. The day following his birth he was given open-heart surgery to remove the tumors and repair the aorta (which will have to be replaced when he is about 13-he is now 12). Then he spent the next seven months in the NICU at Delaware's DuPont Children's Hospital, a 6 hour commute for his mother and uncle-who had no vehicle-by bus and railroad. It was grueling and they usually would spend a night in the Ronald MacDonald House and then return the next day.

Got off the track there, but we were finally able to bring William home on Friday evening. Today we have an appointment back at CHOP, this time to discuss his scoliosis with the orthopedists there. It seems never-ending for Willie and David and I am amazed at David's energy.


Tomorrow we will return to our discussion of adoption from many different perspectives. Have a really positive day and many blessings.

BIRTH OF AN ORPHAN

Shirley was sent by her parents to San Diego, California to live out her pregnancy and give birth to the baby she was carrying. Her parents felt that she was needing to face the future and find someway to raise her unwanted child by herself. Punishment was what they offered her instead of loving family support and they did not want to hear about how either Shirley or the baby was doing. They hoped fervently that the pregnancy would resolve itself and that their "good little girl" would come back to them, childless.

Shirley was on her own. She could not confide in either her husband or her parents. She had no friend that she trusted to tell her secret to because she felt no one would understand how a married woman could allow herself to be raped. She imagined that they all felt that she must have stirred up her rapist or he would never have had anything to do with her. Her family felt that she should not have been spending so much time at the USO seeing as she was a married woman with her poor husband in a war and needing her total support.

Shirley found a family, the Ladisaws, who were looking to rent one of the rooms in their home in downtown San Diego. When they met Shirley they saw that she was pregnant and assumed that the baby was her husband's, since she was married. They felt sorry for the poor girl living so far from family and trying to go through a pregnancy alone. They became her friends and gave her encouragement and support. She started to prepare for a child and buy the clothes and bottles and diapers that she would need. She found employment as a riveter at Ryan Aeronautics on the Pacific Coast Highway and used the buses and a trolley to get to work. When she was two weeks away from her birth due date, she was sent home to have her baby and told that she could return to her job after the baby was six weeks old.

It was 102 degrees outside when Shirley felt her contractions begin. Mid-summer in San Diego was beautiful but warm. She wrestled with the birth of her baby. She knew that she loved her baby, but the fact of the rape made her feel estranged to the child, and on top of that, she only had enough income to support herself. How was she going to care for a child alone? What would she use for money to raise her? What was she going to tell her husband? Would he understand, or would he also be angry and put her away for adultery? The birth pains were more than just physical pain, they were also reminders that she would soon be responsible for a child that no one really wanted in this world. She strained against the pain, but it just made the pain worse. Finally, a little baby girl was born and Shirley called her Ruby Lee after the name of a little girl who was the grandchild of the Ladisaws and who lived with them with her mother whose husband was also overseas in the Army. She gave the child the same last name as her husbands as she had told everyone that she was married and her husband was in Hawaii serving in the Army. The newspaper printed an announcement that a baby girl had been born to Mr. and Mrs. Orville Baker, at (her address at the Ladisaw's), on July 14, 1944.

Shirley had helped her mother to care for her younger brothers and sisters and so she had no problem taking care of little Ruby. What worried her was that she did not have any money to continue to take care of the child since she no longer worked and all she received was a small monthly stipend from her husband who knew where she was and her address, but did not know that his wife was pregnant, let alone had a new little child.

For six weeks, Shirley took care of her little girl and knew such love as she had never experienced before. But love did not buy the ingredients for formula, or clothe a rapidly growing child. She struggled with what she must do. She knew she had to go back to work in order to take care of her own needs and doubly so to take care of a growing baby's needs. What to do?

Shirley had never stopped going to church. She went to the Brethren Church on El Cajon Blvd. in San Diego, and there she met a woman, Eleanor Carpenter, who owned a home that was an orphanage for little babies. Mrs. Carpenter lived only six blocks from where Shirley lived and offered to solve her problem by caring for her baby while she went to work. Shirley confided in Eleanor about her true situation and Eleanor understood her and did not make her feel like an awful person. Eleanor understood that at some point Shirley was either going to have to inform her husband of what was going on, or give the child up for adoption. Shirley could not just give up her baby, but neither could she find the strength to confide in her husband and hope for the best. So, when little Ruby was six weeks old, Shirley asked the Ladisaw's to take pictures of herself and little Ruby, then she took the child and all of her belongings and walked with her over to the Carpenter's orphanage. Shirley could not bring herself to give the baby up for adoption but at least she would have a safe place to stay while she went back to work at Ryan.

Tomorrow: Life in an orphanage and giving up your child for adoption.

ADOPTION EXPERIENCE

It was early October in 1943 and the air was already snapping cold. Piles of pumpkins decorated several of the shop windows in downtown Walla Wall, Washington.

Shirley pulled her coat more tightly around her as she walked quickly through the darkening streets looking forward to the warmth of her family's fires.

She felt a slight uneasiness for some reason and quickened her steps. Then she heard a honk behind her and she turned to see an acquaintance from the United Service Organizations (USO) waving to her from his Model A. Daniel Lee, a young Army recruit,had been at the USO dances several times over the last few months. He reminded her of her husband, Orville, who was overseas in the Army, stationed in Hawaii. How she missed her husband. They had been married two years before, shortly before he had enlisted.

Now she waved back at Daniel and listened as he asked her if she would like a ride home. She couldn't think of a reason why not to ride with him, and it sure would be a lot warmer than walking. Shirley climbed into the front seat and relaxed against the back of the seat.

"I just have one stop to make on the way to your farm," said Daniel, "but it will only take a few minutes and you'll still get home before you're expected."

For some reason, Shirley felt a hitch in her chest and had some second thoughts about taking a ride from a man who was a stranger to her parents. Oh well, Daniel seemed to her to be a very responsible young man and she was tired of walking the 5-mile distance between the USO offices and her farm outside of the city. She would just relax and enjoy the ride.

Daniel started the car and they began to travel the long road to her folks farm. Suddenly, Daniel pulled the car onto one of the many side-roads that started at their highway. This did not alarm her for she had been on all of the side roads for years. They drove for about a mile and then Daniel abruptly pulled the car off of the side of the road and into a small grove of oak trees.

Shirley suddenly wondered why they had stopped, "Is this the place where you have a short meeting?" she asked.

"Yes, this is the place I was speaking of. Now, how are you doing? Last time I saw you you were very down-hearted. Missing your husband?"

Suddenly, Daniel grabbed Shirley and forced her face down onto the car seat. Shirley could hardly breathe, but she started flailing her arms and elbows, connecting with Daniel as he struggled to hold her against the seat cushion.

"You are nothing but a whore," said Daniel. "I see you dancing with all of the service men. What do you think your husband would say about your activities? No answers? Well, I know how he'd feel; crumby! I'm going to make you pay for cheating behind his back."

With that said, Daniel undid his uniform trousers with one hand, then he flipped Shirley on her back and put his hand over her mouth. "You shut up now, and I won't hurt you; just teach you a lesson."

Daniel then raped Shirley after first slapping her hard for daring to scream out for help. Then he took her shoes away from her and set her down out of the car where there were no people or houses for a mile or more.

Barefoot in the cold night, Shirley started walking to her parent's farm. What would she tell her parents? If they found out she had had relations with another man, they would disown her as they were very religious and would consider it her fault. How could she tell Orville? Best not to at all. It wouldn't do to tell a soldier about bad news at home; there was nothing he could do about it and that would frustrate him to no end. So, Shirley snuck in a back door, found a second pair of shoes, and went outside to complete her duties to the milk cows.

Three months later, Shirley knew she was pregnant. What now? If she told her parents that she was pregnant, they would wash their hands of her and send her away from home to have her baby alone.

A week later, her mother noticed her growing belly and demanded to know if she was pregnant or not, and how did she get pregnant with her husband overseas? They disowned Shirley and sent her to live in San Diego. She would have to learn to support herself and her baby; and whatever would she tell Orville?

Two weeks later, Shirley took a bus from Walla Walla to San Diego. She had a small paycheck each month from her husband and she took a job as a riveter at Ryan Aeronautics. She went to see a doctor for her pregnancy and decided to have the baby in Quintard Hospital in downtown San Diego. She let the doctor believe that the baby was her husband's.

In July 1944, Ruby Lee Baker was born at Quintard Hospital. The birth announcement in the newspaper said, "Little girl born to Mr. and Mrs. Orville Baker, and then her address at the Ladisaw's. The official record in the County Clerk's Office said that Ruby Lee had been born to Shirley and Orville Baker.

Tomorrow:  A baby book tells the true story and mother has to get back to work in order to keep her Ryan job.  Is an orphanage in the works?
All week we will be looking at the various sides of adoption. From the birth and adoptive parents side and the side of Ruby herself.

WINNING ON PURPOSE

Today we are going to address what it takes to "win" during your current life game.

The best way to win is to give up on winning; not in a negative way, but in a positive way. Release the need to be "right," and the need to "win." Live a life of abundance and joy by stepping back from your position of always being "right" about things; the need to "win" every argument or discussion. Does this make you less of a man or woman? No. It puts you in the enviable position of "winning" every time. For instance, your husband is angry at you because the house wasn't clean enough when he got home from work. You can take his attitude and words personally, become defensive, and get into an enormous argument. Then there enters the negative emotion of anger and even a little hate for your husband's position. Both of your blood pressures rise, your bodies face a load of stress, and you crawl into bed that night angry at each other. You may never get over the stress of that argument and it will impact your relationship.

However, say that instead of taking things personally and becoming mad at your husband for his ill-advised opinions, you say to yourself, "Hum, i guess I hadn't realized that things have been slipping for a while," and then you smile at your husband and tell him that things will improve and thanks for the input. You win. There is no stressful fight and arguing in your home, no one determined to "prove their point," no physical and emotional disruption and your husband feels happy because he feels that he has been heard and understood. He then makes an extra effort to help you out at home or with the children that night. Wise woman has won this round, for peace reigns in her home that evening.

Wanting anything pushes it away, but release your need for any thing and, if it is positive, it will be attracted to you. Many people go to Casinos or the horse races needing to win, or wanting to win really badly. Their future is almost assured to be losing everything they came in with and everything they later take out of the ATM machines. Chase the wins and they will move forever away from you.

A good example of this principle is playing the slot machines. They are so much fun but you can go through a large amount of money in a very short time. Our mind tricks us that the next spin will be the big win and so unless we use great self awareness we end up spending all of our available money. We have been chasing a win and any time that you get caught up in this round you will lose money. However, go to a Casino one day when you have all of your needs met, are just going to have fun, can afford to lose an amount of money, and bamo kazamo, you end up winning money.

Letting go of your need to "win" or to be "right" all of the time, places you in a position to win at every hand. Let the other person "win" and be "right" and see the power it gives you to turn your life into a positive statement by attracting to you everything positive in life; such as love, money, and creativity.

Have a wonderful weekend and may all that you attempt be successful, and all that you attract be positive.

MILANI MUSINGS

It is not an easy time to be a young mother. So many things to worry about, and if you happen to be low-income with no High School Diploma, life can be very stressful as you worry about how to go about getting your precious little girl, Milani, new clothes to fit her very rapid growth. At 4 months old, she will need new clothes every few months over the forseeable future. Formula is covered by W.I.C., but the second most expensive item is diapers and they are very expensive and you need an ever-expanding number of diapers to get a baby through the first two years.

My grown granddaughters have all opted to either have no children at all, or to only have one child. They are wiser than their grandmother who had six children while her husband was serving in the Vietnam War and was only home for 6 years out of their 17 year marriage. But my granddaughters have high dreams that they are working diligently toward fulfilling. They are going back to school to get their diplomas and then moving on to study nursing. Two of the granddaughters have the same dream of becoming nurses in a N.I.C.U. (newborn intensive care unit). And, driven by the desire to provide for their child's every need, and set aside money for college for them, they have become wonderful mothers and providers.

I remember the stress I was under while trying to care for my five surviving children. I had no higher education and no job skills; I was that anomaly, a stay-at-home mother, dependent upon my husband's E-5 paycheck. I had no knowledge of a welfare system and did not know that I could have received benefits, or, at least, food stamps for my children. Fortunately, the Navy covered my children's health benefits or I would not have been able to stand the stress of having my children's needs unmet.

I just realized that I am still driven by a desire to provide for my children's and grandchildren's lives and that it is this burning desire that compelled me to write THE GOD GAMES and market the book so that in the future my children and grandchildren will have their needs provided for. I guess my entire life I have been struggling with this issue of survival and reproduction. Does it ever get any easier? My belief is that we can better our futures if we continue to work hard and never give in to the fears of failing our children, but plug along and trust in the providence of Heaven to bless us with our required needs and maybe a few of the wants along the way.

I cling to the Shepherd's Psalm, the 23rd Psalm, that says, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want..." If I did not totally believe this statement I would not have had the strength to continue to seek education and better job prospects in my own life. I guess the true statement of my life is that without the Lord's guidance and strengthening presence I could not have survived my life, or brought my children to adulthood with strong minds of their own. "Trust in the Lord with all thy heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths." (Proverbs 3:5)

Have a wonderful day and may all of your needs, and choice wants, come into your life this very day.