For the mother of a #TAKEN child this particular holiday presents its own set of nightmares, depression, and reopens the anguish that is never far from the point of exploding into a crisis. After all this day is supposed to be an expression of honor and love for us....mothers....a role that was snatched away by a corrupt family court's decision that our children would be better off raised by strangers.
The mother of a #TAKEN child enters a world of limbo the day her child is forcefully removed. A world of waiting....for the day a prayed for #TAKEN child might return. A world of anguish....the dreaded "Happy Mother's Day, coming from every quarter. Church, media, friends' relatives, have no concept of the private hell this day holds for the mother of a #TAKEN child. We are awake, aware that we must get thru this holiday, AGAIN. Ehh, just the thought brings a shudder.
This day is another day to be "got thru", much like every other waking moment after a corrupt family court judge has slaughtered a mother's reason to exist by handing away forever that very reason TO exist; her child.
Detractors are plentiful. Foster providers, caseworkers, corrupt judges, and the general public (for the most part) are quick to remind the mother of a #TAKEN child that she deserves every bit of this anguish that she must now endlessly endure because if she hadn't done something wrong, her children would still be at home.
At what point, on what day in history did our society decide that a mother is disposable to her children and can be replaced with the "it takes a village" philosophy of parenting? I can tell you. The day President Bill Clinton signed the Adoption and Safe Families Act of 1997. Paving the way for incentivized adoption.
Placing money on a child's head paved the way for careers in adoption. Yes, I said careers. After all where can a woman go to work straight out of college and pick and choose the children she wants to raise and get paid premium money for doing it. A grand a kid (average). Six kids. Do the math.
On this day, a mother who has lost her children to the state only wants one thing: for this day to be over with. All the self doubt, guilt, anger, and hatred roil together in a way that is as destructive as the events that led up to the fact that her child is no longer home with her. Nothing changes it. Nothing fixes it. Nothing makes this awful holiday better. Except the gratitude for the end of the day, the sleep that comes with the end of the day and the bliss of being unconscious, once more. Hopefully I will be so exhausted from the nervous tension of this day, that not even my usual nightmares will haunt me.