Lost and found

We met at a pub and he hugged me and sat next to me, joking: “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

We talked from dawn till dusk.

It had been exactly 30 years since I heard his cry as he was transferred from my vagina to the waiting arms of the woman who had paid for him. I was mad, I was so mad I couldn’t cry. My cheeks were not wet but my heart was covered in blood at the choice that was made for me.

At 22 years I would have been perfectly capable of taking care of him. But keeping him would have brought shame and dishonor to our family, my father said. “If it would have been some random teenage sex at the street corner I would have accepted it, but this! No”.

For the remaining six months I was basically a prisoner in our family ranch. I was not allowed off the premises, a tutor was brought to home school me. A therapist was brought to medicate me when I got difficult. I tried running away a couple of times and my outside hours were cut short. I was not allowed anywhere alone. Even in the bathroom a servant maid came with me. I felt like a lamb being fattened for the slaughter.

That was not even the worst part. My rapist lived under that same roof because,”Where else should we take him”, my mother had said. But I knew it was about the inheritance, having him here meant millions of dollars for my folks and my feelings about it didn’t matter. The air in that mansion was always dense with something more than the smell of the strong cleaning products that were used to clean it. It had the scent of death and rage.

The day came and I remember the pain vividly it started as a dull ache in the back and lower abdomen. Then suddenly wave-like motions started from the top of my tummy to the bottom. I felt like I needed to go to the toilet badly and that is when my water broke.

The doctor was called to our house, I wasn’t allowed to have a hospital birth in case I ran away with the baby. I was told later that the lady preferred a closed adoption and that was it, case closed. I was left to nurse swollen breasts and sore nethers, the lamb had been slaughtered and the meat devoured.

Time passed, years came and went.

One rainy morning, I was sitting at my oak desk staring at the droplets of rain sliding down the yellow stained glass of my office window, an email popped up on my screen. A certain young man sent a picture and asked to meet up. He didn’t have to say who he was, a mother always knows.

We met at a pub downtown and he hugged me, sat next to me, joking, “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

We talked from dawn till dusk.


20 thoughts on “Lost and found

  1. OMG !! You had been separated from your Own Child ? How Cruel this world is !!
    Reading this post was so painful and I was almost going to sigh with sadness, when you dropped the Line “He didn’t have to say it, a mother always knows.”.
    No one can Love A Child More than Its Own Mother.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. such depth in the words and i cant help but read between the lines and am afraid of what i see. but as such if life, many times cruel and unfair, but love always triumphs, and thats what i want to take from this story, most beautiful piece i have read in a long time!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your story reminded me of a good friend of mine who at age 16 was raped and found herself pregnant. She decided she would keep the baby but when the baby was born her dr and mother conspired to have the baby taken away. She really recovered and thankfully was able to meet her daughter many years later.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It is amazing how far we have come in terms of acceptance. I saw a documentary about women who are now in their 70s and 80s who went though the same. Some just teenage pregnancy and their babies were taken away without their consent.

      Liked by 1 person

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