Living Life In A Wheelchair.

Chapter 4

Anyone who has dealt with the family court system knows it's not easy to deal with. As I said above, there were many ups and downs in the adoption process. You see, the lady who birthed me was deaf. She had to have an interpreter for her. Her sister stepped in. That did not last very long. I remember one court case we had, where her sister tried to say that my new mother would not let me speak to them on the phone unless she was in the room. That was not true. She would go to leave the room to let me have privacy, but I would pull her back in and want her in on the conversation too.

We had to go to court every sixty days for six to seven years. Boy, what a trip that was. I can remember one court case where, like usual, The woman who birthed me, did not show up. I found out later, that when my sister got to go back, she immediately got pregnant, at the age of thirteen. They didn't come to the court case that day, because, my sister had miscarried the night before.

Her sister, my aunt told the judge this, and I leaned over to my guardian ad litem and told her that the sister was lying. She whispered back in my ear and said " tell the judge. " I interrupted her sister, looked at the judge, and said " Judge, she's lying. " From then on, a court-appointed interpreter from a few hours away was appointed. From then on, the cases went smoother. Notice I didn't say " smooth. " Things were still rocky, for a while. Eventually, they got better. Then it finally happened! I was away from the woman who birthed me, for good!

I can remember when we were taken out of the home for the last and final time. My so-called mother ( birth mother ) had not changed my diaper in several days. I was in a diaper of my own feces. Crawling on the floor. When suddenly, people showed up at the door. My " mother ' picked me up out of the floor, and held me. I was crying in her arms, scared. A cop took me from her, and held and hugged me, trying to comfort me. I had never been so scared in all my life!

During the period of trying to adopt me ( six to seven years process, ) if I recall correctly, I had about five or six social workers. We would get one and have them for a while, then something would go wrong in their personal life, and we'd have to find another. This went on five to six times. Just as our adoption was going to be final, I had no one representing me, so, the judge had to ask someone in the courtroom, who was there for another case, to represent me.