I made lots of bad choices to get attention I thought I needed. Date rape was not even a term back then, so since I knew who this young man who took advantage of me, I thought it was all my fault. Not able to deal with what had happened, I turned to alcohol and drugs to numb pain, and cry out for help. I was a nightmare for my parents to deal with. As a parent now, I can now understand what I put my parents through. I ran away a few times, ended up in a hospital for drug overdose a, spent a few weeks in therapy. Still not sorted out though I continued making a mess of my life. By the time I was 17, I was beginning to see the consequences of my choices, knowing I would end up either dead or in jail. I moved home and was trying to put my life together when I realized I was pregnant. In an doctor's exam a few years earlier, I was told, I probably would never become pregnant, so to know that I was, this was a big shock.
I could not bear to break the news to my parents, who had already been through so much with me and my choices, and here I was, going to do it again. I also knew that the father of my baby, was going to be a problem. 30 years ago, it was a little more accepted for interracial relations, but not much. I knew my baby would be half black. He was also into drugs, and petty crime, in and out of jail a few times, as well as into beating me. Trying to take my life a time or two did not make him into the father material this little baby would deserve. I contemplated giving her up for adoption, abortion was NEVER an option for me. No matter how hard, this baby deserved life. If I could not give her a good one, then I would give her a family that could. I swore to changes in my life that would improve the family I could give her. I was raised in an LDS; aka Mormon home, although a fairly loose one. As in, we had occasional prayer, scriptures were not a big deal, nor family home evening. Foundational stones to those diligently trying to build a strong family. But we did attend church on Sunday. As well as being sealed as an Eternal Family in the Oakland temple. My family was converted when I was 7, so many of those habits just were not instilled into my parents. Those things I was taught though began to be very important to me as I thought about what kind of life I could live that would be the best I could give to my baby. I had move a few times, making sure that Tiffany's dad could not find me. He swore to me he would steal her, take her away from me and I would never find her. I had many nightmares that he did find us.
I went back to church and after a year and a half, met a new convert as well that wanted to marry me and become my daughter, Tiffany's father. He adopted her a year after we married. I thought this was my happily ever after. I had never thought anyone would find me a worthy mate for marriage. I came with a lot of baggage. I was so happy I could finally give my daughter an intact family life. We were pregnant shortly after, but that pregnancy ended around 12 weeks. We had listened to a heart beat in my last visit, so I was devastated to experience a miscarriage. Soon after, we were again pregnant, and I delivered a son, Brian. I have never known what real love is, the kind you would die for until I became a mother. This was my life's work, to be a good mother to these children I was blessed to have. We had another son, 18 months later, Kale. I was a busy momma, and loved every minute with my little family. I thought my marriage is strong, life is really good.
It was a shock beyond belief when I began to learn all was not well in my family. Tiffany had began to show signs of abuse; a bruise in the shape of teeth on her buttocks, not sleeping well, some regression and clinging to me. Kale was just a baby, when Randy, my husband, told me of some of the things he was doing; all very distorted and minute to what was really going on. It was the tip of the ice berg, and painfully pieces were slowly put together. This picture perfect family was crumbling and being destroyed by Randy and his choices. He had to leave the home, and an abuse investigation began. Courts, counseling, I do not know how I got through this time. I thought this too, was somehow my fault, I was not a good enough wife… It was a burden I carried silently and alone for quite sometime as to talk about it with others was so hard to do.
I thought maybe I should stay in the marriage, that somehow, with counseling and treatment we can still be a family, but looking at my children, who depended on me to keep them safe, as much as I did love him, I could never take this risk again for my children.
Randy's family disowned us, it was if we never existed. Randy was only allowed supervised visitation, and for Brian, who was such a daddy's boy, it was if Randy had died, he was not allowed to talk to him or see him. Just barely 2 years old, he could not express his feelings and hurt, and he was acting out pretty aggressively at preschool because he just couldn't deal with his pain. Specialized preschool for hurting children helped us out a lot during this time.
I was now on my own with 3 little children, 23 years old, no marketable skills of employment. With the help of my family, and church family I somehow survived this devastating time. Life was so hard, the kids cried themselves to sleep every night, I curled up on the floor in my bathroom with my fingers in my ears, crying along with them. I got into a school training program, dropped kids off at daycare. Shortly after I got a job at a medical center as a receptionist, I was able to buy my first car. I had brought Brian with me on this trip as well as my dad. Driving home with my shiny red car, that was the shortest car ownership in history; 20 minutes. I was on the freeway in Seattle, driving home, when traffic came to a stop. I looked quickly in my rear view mirror to see a car speeding towards me. A moment later, was shattering glass, metal, and shock. My car was hit while stopped by a car driving over 70 miles, we slammed into a truck in front of us, accordion crushed the car. All I could remember was Brian was in the back seat. Luckily, belted in, but back then, there were no car seats. The seat belt caused some internal bruising, but miraculously not one scratch on any of us. My dad and I ended up with severe whip lash injuries, that to this day, I still have pain from that crash. As a result of my injuries, I could no longer work. I had been able to finally in a long time, care for my family's needs and now I could not work. Could not pick up my children. Debilitating headaches, migraines, daily. Again, I was back on state and church help, after I had worked so hard to get myself off of.
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