Finally Someone Tells The Truth
Was it really in a child's best interest?
He had left school having only had 2-3 days part-time work with a chap who would not give him a reference. He had
an obsession with knives and guns which alarmed us and also his attitude and lack of respect alarmed the chap for whom he
had those few days work.
He was offered work on a couple of occasions. Once he gained employment with a muffler company. The boss was very
pleased with his progress and he became part of a pilot scheme at the TAFE for the type of work. He was kitted out by his
employer but didn't turn up to commence the course. He lost the job after five and a half months. He was about 18 at this
He was offered a job as a surgical appliances salesman by a man who regularly gave him a lift when he saw him on
the road hitch-hiking. This man was impressed by the lad's ability to communicate, and spoke to my husband and me about the
work, but our son wasn't interested saying that he was too young to work. He was at this time about 17 years old.
It wasn't until he was about 20 that he started to realise that he was going to have to start to look for a job
and stick at it. Most People that he had done any work for at all had stated that he was a good little worker, very polite
etc. The thing was that he had no training and little experience and jobs were harder for him to get now he was older and
had little or no experience.
He always seemed afraid of something. Lacked self worth, constantly needed reassurance, particularly from me whom
he seemed hell bent on putting down. We had bonded and loved and needed one another but couldn't live together. I very often
felt that he hurt me because I was there and he really would have liked to hurt his biological mum but as she wasn't there,
I was the next best thing. I was the substitute in every way.
I felt that I was spending a greater proportion of my time and energy on this child, possibly to the detriment
of the other two. And I was not happy that I was doing the best I could for him. I don't know how I could have done better
given my personality and his. All I am sure of is we cared very much for him and that the help we needed was not out there
in the professional sphere, where one expects that it might be. I frankly do not think that enough is known of what happens
when a child is separated from its biological mother and the 10 months in the mother's womb etc.
It wasn't until I read Nancy Verrier's paper on the Primal Wound that I at last found there was someone else that
knew, understood and had experienced what I had. I felt as I read that account by Nancy that it very well could have been
written by me about our son, fortunately for her she had the education and was in a position to be able to help her daughter.
We were not so fortunate and our son took his life in April 1993. No-one seemed to understand what torment he was going through.
No-one believed me about the way he stood rigid when upset over something, about being unable to communicate his feelings,
He wanted to meet his biological mum but couldn't take the steps to do it, so never did. He left a note requesting
us, his dad and mum, to do it for him. We obtained non-identifying information from Child Welfare when our son was about 14
years old. It gave his father's Christian name, age, etc. Our son was displeased with what he read into the information and
had no desire to meet him. If only we had known how close his mother was, how entwined our extended families turned out to
be, things might have been different. But then who knows.
Twelve months ago my husband and I met his biological mother and learned some of the story leading up to his conception,
birth and adoption. A pretty horrendous time in a 15 year old girl's life, being taken advantage of by a married man with
children. Concealment from the family until almost eight months pregnant. This was a good family, going along normally etc.,
She told us how she wanted to keep the baby but her mother who was at this time 58 years old refused to allow her
to bring the baby home (A mother of six, one child still a pre-teen and several grandchildren to care for as a result of all
the trauma in their lives, it could not have been an easy choice for her). She had the baby with her in the home until she
left to go home.
The last memory she has of her first born is that of being told not to wake him before leaving. She bent over his
crib and said goodbye and turned to go. As she did so she could hear his loud ringing cry following her down the path to the
An adoptive mother
For the sake of my sons natural mothers privacy please do not print my name.