Little Secrets

Have you ever wondered if you actually did something in your life time that actually really and truly meant something? You know, something that without you in their life, it would have made a huge difference? I have felt like a bad person for such a longtime. I never truly thought of the good I did, only how what I had done had hurt so many people. Mostly myself. To explain myself, I have to go back many years. All the way back to high school. Junior year. My boyfriend that I had been seeing since freshman year and I broke up. It was a huge breakup, not in the sense of we were mean to each other, it just crushed the both of us at the time. A girl, pretending to be my friend was the reason, one of her friends had a crush on my boyfriend and she ... oh well, it doesn't matter. Even the teachers talked of our break up. But, then along came Chucky. Oh yeah, he was the "bad" boy and I thought yeah, I am going to pursue this. We had been friends for awhile and he used to come and sit with my group of friends to watch all the basketball games. He used to make me laugh a lot. My teen-aged crushed heart fell hard and fast for him with his tough exterior and his long thick blonde hair! I was smitten! (okay, SMITTEN...what the hell??? where did that word come from? Shit, I guess I may be getting old after all! Gees SMITTEN!) (big sigh) Anyway, we dated for a while, he came from a troubled family. I came from a great one, he spent as much time with me as he possibly could. I was the bright spot in his life. The place that he could feel safe and loved. He was one of the ones that I hurt! I know, we were only kids, but, I still carry the pain. We spent every waking moment together. I found myself pregnant. 16 years old and pregnant. I continued to go to the same high school. My friends were very supportive, however, their parents were not. It was if I had something contagious. When I told my parents, my mom got mad, but, I made my dad cry! I hurt my dad! Not something that is easy to live with. I immediately put the blame on Chucky! It was ALL his fault that I hurt my parents! I just walked away from him and wouldn't even speak to him. It was easier for my mind to blame him so that I could live with myself. All he wanted to do was love me, I wanted no part of it! He turned to drugs, I turned to staying home. He was sent away and I felt relief. Relief? Dear Lord, forgive me! I decided that the best thing to do for the baby was to give it up for adoption. My wonderful parents supported me in any decision that I was going to make. This was 1975, teenage pregnancy was not common. It wasn't the baby's fault I was this way. All my friends thought that once I saw the baby there would be no way to give the baby away. You couldn't pick the parents back then, so I went through Catholic Charities. My mom took me to all of my appointments and we became very close. She told me stories of how this happened even in her day and things were covered up big time back then. She would also tell me how my dad would still cry at night, but, it was good that he was letting it out and not holding it in. I know she didn't realize just how much that teared me apart. She was a very kind hearted woman and would never purposely hurt anyone. I felt so ashamed. The day came April 3rd 1976. I delivered a healthy baby. I had told the doctors to take the baby immediately out of the delivery room because I didn't want to know or see what I had. I thought if I didn't look, it wouldn't hurt. I delivered at the hospital on the base, that way, no one except my family could come to see me. My mom asked me if she could go see the baby and I told her it was okay. I decided to take a walk and see my baby after all. I needed to know if I was doing the right thing for the baby. I walked down to the nursery and saw this beautiful baby boy! I asked the nurse if I could come in and hold him. He was perfect! So small and sweet. Even holding him I knew, I was too young to be a mom. What kind of life could I ever give him? Love was just not enough! I held him every day, memorizing his little face. I wanted to make sure that I could remember him if I ever saw him again. I figured that he would contact me when he turned 18. Everything was secretive back then and I wasn't allowed to know who adopted him. Maybe they thought that I would try and steal him?

I was okay those years until he turned 18. I used to pray every night that he was in a good home with a family that truly loved him, one that would read to him and when he fell down they would pick him up and kiss his boo boo's. I prayed that he would know so much love and have laughter every day. Mostly I prayed that he would look for me and not hate me. I prayed that I could give my parents their grandchild back.

As the years went on, it got harder and harder. My heart ached to know if he was okay. I had so much shame and guilt. I used to pray that if I ran into anyone from school that they would never ask about my dirty little secret. Because I didn't like myself, I ended up getting married to a cruel man. He made certain to let me know just how lucky I was that he loved me because no one else ever could. He'd get drunk, I'd get hurt. I lied about the bruises to my family and friends. He even broke my nose and threw me down the stairs while I was pregnant with my daughter. But, that is another story that I may tell sometime. I got smart and left him when my daughter was 2 and never looked back. When his 18th birthday came and went I was a wreck but then figured maybe since we went to Catholic Charities, he had to wait until he was 21 to look for me. You may be wondering why I hadn't searched for him. In my mind I just couldn't. I made the decision to give him up, so, in my heart I thought it should be his decision if he wanted to find me. Every time I would see a person be reunited with their birth parent on TV, I ached so badly. My sister Chrissy, always made sure that I was alright when his birthday came along. She was the only one other than Gilly and my daughter that knew how badly I was aching. I tried to hide it, but, I would just get unreachable when his birthday came. His 21st birthday came and went...still nothing. I still carried the shame and prayed no one would find out what a bad person I was. Even my brothers and sisters didn't share my secret with their children, or so I thought. One day while attending Italian class with my friend Betsy, we went by Elizabeta Uno and Elizabeta Due. I got a phone call from my niece Tiffany, but, decided to call her after class. While I was on break, my daughter called me. She told me that Tiffany may have found him! Panic ran through me. When I hung up Betsy had to be told what was happening. As I told her, I thought for sure I would lose my friend. She didn't even bat an eye! She was excited for me. Chrissy had told her children because she hurt so badly for me and every year, Tiffany would search the computer to see if anyone was looking. Then in 2004, she came to a search that she felt just might be him. She wasn't sure why she felt so strongly about this but, she sent him off a note asking him questions and saying that she may be able to help him. My daughter also wrote to him and so, I figured as frightened as I was, I would write to him also. He lived in Ma. and the adoption records were sealed. We had to wait until 2005 for them to be opened. My dad was going to pay for us to have a DNA test done so we wouldn't have to wait. I sat glued to my computer waiting for a note from him. I was beyond obsessed. My husband Gilly said this is just ridiculous, he picked up the phone and called Catholic Charities and told them that he has two people that think they belong to each other and what can he do to get them together? Wow, DUH! why hadn't any of us thought to do that?? When the case worker called me, she said that she had forms we had to fill out and mail back to her with our permission. She asked me why I had waited so long, I explained everything and my prayers, by the end of the conversation, we were both crying. His name is Evan, and we didn't want to wait, we faxed the permission over. I found out at work the next day with my friends by my side...This man was my SON! I cried and they bought me balloons and flowers and a card that said Congratulations, It's a Boy!!! My dirty little secret was out and it wasn't dirty after all. How could something filled with so much love ever be dirty? I had even been too ashamed to tell my best friend Maryann about my secret; until one day, while we were working together, she told me that her son was thinking about trying to find his birth mom. She looked at me and said, just what kind of person could ever do that? That is when I told her. She hugged me so tightly and told me that I made her feel so much better. She loved me so much and never knew the "other side" of adoption. She hoped that her son came from someone like me. I was thankful to see her side of adoption and the joy it brought to her. She is such a wonderful person. She had given me hope that my son had a great life too. On October 12 2004, my darling husband, for our wedding anniversary, gave me my son! It was so wonderful, we laughed and cried and hugged. Leah met her big brother and Evan met his little sister. There was no mistaking that they were brother and sister, they both had the Beane genes! We took pictures and talked for hours. but mostly, we laughed! It was great beyond words. We immediately made plans to have him meet my parents, and anyone else that wanted to come. It was a day so full of love as I watched my dad cry while meeting his grandson. Finally! At least these were tears of joy. My dad was so over joyed that he told Evan as he was hugging him that he had waited for this moment all his life! My mom just kept giggling and saying she was tickled pink. I brought my son back to them. Thank you God!

I know, you think that should have healed me... it did. I felt great! And then it hit me. Hit me like a bug hitting a windshield of a car going 60 miles per hour. If I had hurt this badly all these years? What about Chucky? Oh my God, what had I done to that poor man? He hadn't ever seen his son.

So, with my husband's blessing I started searching. I just had to find him and apologize for the hurt that I had caused him. I had to let him know that our son was a great man! He has wonderful parents that gave him everything that we could not. When I found Chucky, it was through email and fearfully I wrote to him. I apologized for everything and this kind hearted man that had such a rough life, forgave me. He told me it was all okay and that there was no need to have to be sorry. My son had asked me if I would consent to meeting his parents...without hesitation, I said oh yes, I want to thank them. He said, Oh no Betsy, they want to thank you!

All those years of pain vanished in that one little comment. They wanted to thank me?? Yes, I gave them my son to be theirs. From all that hurt I caused what mattered the most was, I blessed some one else's life by letting them become parents.