Today I am celebrating my third birthday. I’m
blessed and having the best time of my life. It’s a miracle I’m alive. I’m
one of the few fatherless babies rescued from their crack addicted mother and placed in a
loving home. At six months I was near death when I was rushed to the hospital by
strangers. I was undernourished with a high fever and withdrawn. I knew nothing about
laughter or love. I never bonded with my mother or knew my father. My only relationship
with him was when he conceived me. My mother’s time was spent prostituting and
stealing to support her crack habit. My time was spent sleeping in alleys and cars while
she satisfied tricks and smoked crack. I could never understand those strange activities.
My mother kept me content and quiet with drugs.
My mother often left me alone without food or liquids. She also
abandoned me for days, at strangers’ homes without their consent, food, diapers and
clothes. I always suffered for her thoughtless act. I learned to endure being filthy and
hungry but I never could get use to those painful diaper rashes. I was lucky if she
changed my diapers once a day. I cried so much from diaper rash she let me crawl around
without diapers or pants.
I lived a difficult life. I never received prenatal care, was born
premature and near death. My mother smoked crack that was so potent she went into
convulsions that induced labor. I will never forget the sensation of being high on crack
as I was delivered. Within minutes I experienced the withdrawal symptoms of a hard core
crack addict. I was born with a heart murmur and was infected with congenital syphilis
from my mother. My mother knowingly had been infected for more than a year and never
sought medical treatment. I was undernourished, underweight and prescribed medication for
an irregular heartbeat, withdrawals, syphilis and other medical problems.
I remember waking up in an incubator with tubes forced up my nose and
two IV’s jammed into my frail legs. My veins were so small I was amazed how they
stuck needles in them. I spent the first two months of my life in intensive care. I was
connected to all types of machines that monitored my vital signs. My mother visited me
once and never told her relatives about me. She swindled and stole from her entire family.
Each time they tried to help her she took advantage of them. Fourteen years ago she asked
her mother to baby-sit her new born son (my older brother). She never came back for him.
Even still I considered myself lucky. I was not born with the aid’s virus.
Because my mother tested positive for drugs during delivery, I was
assigned a social worker. I met her several days after my birth. As she looked in my
incubator, I had this eerie feeling. I sensed she disliked children and was emotionally
unstable. To this day I don’t understand why my social worker allowed my mother to
have custody of me. She should have never been allowed to remove me from the hospital.
Even I knew state laws prohibited mothers from having custody of their babies if they
tested positive for drugs during delivery. My social worker never considered my welfare. She
placed me with an irresponsible mother with a drug habit who had no job or a place to
live. When my mother picked me up from the hospital, she was stoned. I guess my social
worker had other concerns that were more important than my life.
I didn’t know who my mother was when she took me from the
hospital. I was just grateful someone was getting me out of this place. I had been in this
hospital for two months. I was not mistreated but I had no parents or family there. It was
a lonely experience living in an incubator for six weeks. I had little human contact that
could be described as nurturing. My happiness was short lived. The next day I experienced
the unpleasant feeling of going without food for the entire day. My mother spent her money
on crack. When she found time, she stole food and clothes for me. I survived on sour milk,
water, warm soda, crackers and handouts. My mother found me helpful when she shoplifts.
People are less suspicious of mothers with babies. It was also convenient to hide stolen
merchandise in my clothes. Whenever she was caught, I was used as a sympathy ploy. Her
favorite line was "I was stealing to feed my baby." Store personnel would
always let her go with a warning because they felt sorry for me.
It was an unpleasant experience of living in the streets. I slept in
backyards, garages and condemned buildings. During the day I was left outside unprotected
from the heat. I was often badly sunburned. During the night I was cold. I had no blankets
or warm clothes and was often covered with leaves and dirt. I often woke up in the middle
of the night to find my mother gone. I sat quietly in the darkness until she returned. I
was paralyzed by fear but I learned not to cry because it attracted all types of night
creatures. Sometimes my mother was so high she forgot where she left me. Her drug friends
would find her for me when they were not too high. One tried to sell me for fifty dollars.
She became frightened when a neighbor reported her to the police and returned me to my
mother. My mother did not take me from the hospital as an act of love. She did it to
collect a monthly welfare check.
My mother’s sisters and parents learned about me when I was five
months. They knew I was in danger because of my mother’s lifestyle. They asked my mom
to meet them because they wanted to buy me clothes, diapers, toys, a stroller and food. We
met at my grandmother’s house. For the first time I met my aunts, uncles,
grandparents, cousins and twelve year old brother. I was a sight to behold. I was filthy,
diaper less and withdrawn. I never laughed or smiled. I just stared at everyone. I was
happy to see the new toys, food, clothes and stroller. My aunts gave me my first bath in
months. While I was enjoying my bath, my mother left with my new stroller,
clothes, toys
and diapers. She sold everything within the hour to feed her crack habit. She returned for
me a week later. She was freighted her check would stop if my relatives reported I was
abandoned.
The following month my mother left me at a childhood neighbor’s
house. During her visit she asked could she leave me for an hour while she picked up my
medicine. I was sick when she left me. They became alarmed and called my grandmother when
she failed to return after two days. My aunt and uncle rushed me to the hospital. If I had
not gone to the hospital that night I would have died of pneumonia. I went home with my
auntie and uncle when I was released.
This was a blessing and turning point in our lives. My auntie and uncle
had fallen out of love. They barely spoke to each other. There was a lot of anger in their
marriage. They were in need of someone who could rekindle their love. That someone was me.
It was the least I could do for all the love they gave me. My new daddy was a big time
Controller. He lost his job and was depressed a lot. My new mommy was also having
difficulties with her employer. Money was scarce in our new family. My new parents were
concerned about me. I refused to speak, rarely cried and showed no emotions. They spent
quality time with me every day and brought me out of my shell. They played with me, read
me stories and properly fed me. I gained weight and my health improved. We did everything
together. No longer was I a frighten baby without feelings. Within a month we became a
family who enjoyed making each other laugh. My daddy is no longer depressed. We always
smile. I frequently receive compliments on my warm and friendly smile. The love I received
from my new parents erased my bad memories. I no longer have any medical problems.
Today my mommy and daddy are a loving couple. Five months after joining
my new family, my daddy earned a large sum of money. He brought my mommy and me a new
home. I believe God blessed our family because of the kindness my mommy and daddy showed
me. My preschool teachers told my parents I am one of the brightest and best mannered
children in my class. My daddy started a new career as a writer. He has just published a
book. I am proud of my daddy’s book. I have not learned to read yet but I love the
picture of my daddy on the cover.
I believe parents and adults are blessed if they take it upon
themselves to save children. My mother had a three-month premature girl a year after I was
born. She was hospitalized for six months and has extensive medical problems. We pray that
she will make a full recovery. She lives in a foster home but we take her on weekends. I
am working on my parents to adopt my little sister. I figure in about another four months
we all will be living together. I have not decided what I want to do when I grow up but I
do know this. I will make my parents proud and I will help other children. I am thankful
to God for giving me the best parents in the world.
PS
Daddy and Mommy I love you. Thank you for saving my life and for the
love you’ve given me.
Your Loving Son,
Lloyd
