Standing in the parking lot of my apartment complex I was
tired. It had been a long day of fun and games with my mom and dad and my four
young children. It was late at night and dark and I wondered how I was going to
get these four sleepy children into the apartment without too much drama.
Slowly I started waking the older ones up and telling them
that we had to get out of the car. As they begrudgingly woke up I noticed
someone calling me. I hardly knew anyone in the complex so I had no idea who
would be talking to me this late at night. It actually scared me. Looking over
toward the direction of the voice I saw a man in a truck, a tow truck to be
exact, looking straight at me and motioning for me to come towards him. He was
very dark skinned and he had really white teeth. He didn’t look like a big man
but about average in size. His hair was cut short and well manicured and I
assumed by looking at him he was probably a Mexican man, a very handsome Mexican man to be exact.
I hesitated…knowing that it was such a strange situation. I
am a single mom in a very low scale apartment complex in the dead of night, and
a strange man wants my attention. Keeping my cautious stance I went half way across
the grass towards the tow truck and asked what he wanted.
“Yes, do you need something?” I said curiously
“Well ma’am. I have seen you around this place a few times
and I thought maybe we could be friends. Could I have your number so we could
talk sometime?”
The thoughts that went through my head went something like
this: "Why in the world would someone want my phone number? Doesn’t he see that
I have four small children? Doesn’t he see that I am NOT a small woman?"
The years had defiantly caught up with me. To this day I couldn’t
tell you how my life turned out the way it did. I grew up in a Christian home.
I was a good teenager. I was a virgin until I was 18….and then somehow,
someway, the meanness of the world caught up with me. At 34 years of age I had
been married twice, had four children
from two different dads, and was at least 90 pounds overweight . This is not
the life that I imagined for myself…but really…is anyone’s life really exactly
the way they imagined it would be?
So there I stood in the parking lot talking to myself…inside
my head of course. “Do I give him my phone number? I really was ok being
single. I wasn’t looking for a partner, but he did say he wanted to be friends.
It would be nice to have a friend.” Throwing all caution to the wind I decided
that it couldn’t hurt anything, and that he probably wouldn’t call me anyways…so
I gave him my phone number and literally didn’t think about it again until two
days later when the phone rang.
This is just the beginning of a love story. It is probably
not the kind of love story that you would expect by reading the paragraphs
above. This love story is about a little boy and all the people that fall in
love with him…including me. If I could relive this part of my life…I would honestly
say that I wouldn’t change it…and as I tell the story you will see why.
I hope you continue to follow me as I try to relive this
very difficult part of my life. This is Part 1 of my adoption, birth-mother
story told five years after it happened.
Click here for Part 2.
Click here for Part 2.
2 comments:
I'm so glad you're writing, again! I can't wait to read part two.
I'm so excited to read your story! I adopted an infant baby girl in an open adoption 3 months ago. I'm honored to read your story!
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