Before I begin I would like to add that my memory isn't the best and some of these things may be a little out of order or small details accidentally rearranged but to the best of my memory, this is accurate. 
I arrived in San Diego in early October.  My sister got me a job at a cell phone company she worked for and I started working two days after I got there.  I found a nice lady who offered day care just a couple of miles from our home and on the way to work.  My parents had some rules... a curfew which I wouldn't need for a while as my life was consumed by my job and my son, and that I needed to attend church on Sundays among other things.  So here I was 27 years old.  I had an infant and was not married and was living with my parents.  I had left a pretty good job and was now working as a sales person.  I was exausted, poor, lonely, depressed and I admit... unhappy.  It's amazing how the choices you make can shape your life.  I loved my son and that's what kept me going. 
As time went on, I stopped resenting my parents for the situation I was in.  I guess I had regressed to the attitude of a teenager where nothing is your fault.  After having gone to church for around six months or so, I finally started to enjoy it.  I started going to the singles ward in Escondido and made some friends.  Friends sure do make a world of difference.   If anything, being a young parent will mature you quickly.  I was realizing the value of all things my parents tried to teach me.  Sorry Mom and Dad for taking so long to learn those things.  During this time, I gained a testimony of the truthfullness of the gospel.  I was able to go through the temple and attend my brother's wedding.  It was around this time that I met "L".  What a wonderful person.  She is THE kindest person I've ever met, the most Christlike person I've ever met.  We would laugh together and cry together and she taught me so much.  She has cerebral paulsey so she needs help with many things.  It was such a joy to serve her and be with her.  We ended up working  in the temple together for two years.  She is still one of my greatest friends.  Life was getting better.  I had good friends, I had Heavenly Father in my life to help me through the hard days and I even had a couple boyfriends.  They didn't last very long because I wasn't mature enough to handle a real relationship.  When Elijah was two and a half, I was working for an engineer.  One of the ladies there said that she wanted to set me up with a youner guy in her ward.  I later heard he was the most elidgeable bachelor there.  So we met at a fireside.  It wasn't love at first sight but he was handsome and seemed really nice.  We exchanged info and arranged a date.  I was really scared because I had blown the last two relationships I was in.  I prayed a lot.  It's amazing that Heavenly Father can bless you with what you ask no matter how silly or trivial it may be. 
We don't use his name much at our house and for all that I've been through, I don't even like repeating his name.  Whenever a subject gets brought up that involved him we refer to him as "he who can't be named".  Thanks J. K. Rowling for that great reference... very fitting.  :) 
So we set up our first date.  We both had a child and so we thought it fitting to meet at Chuck E Cheese or some entertaining kids place like that.  We had a great time and he seemed like a great Dad.  We went to the temple together and he asked if he could hold my hand.  How polite right?  He was so chilvalrous and kind.  The day after our first date, I got two dozen roses delivered from him.  Wow! I had never been treated like that before!  He swept me right off of my feet.  He told me about his past and I told him about mine.  We both had made big mistakes but were in the right place now and that's all that mattered. We dated for months before he asked me at the temple if I would marry him.  I had been thinking in that direction but wasn't expecting a proposal that night.  I was so excited.  I was in love and the ring was beautiful.  I went home and prayed about this man and this marriage and got the most wonderful feeling.  We were sealed on September 9th of 2000.  We spent our honeymoon in Palm Desert.  His parents had a condo out there.  We looked through old photos together and I learned that he had brought his first wife to the same place for THEIR honeymoon.  ewww.  Oh well, I let go, what do you do at that point?  Life was good for the first couple of months.  We soon had our first married spat and that's when he called me the "B" word.  My stomach dropped.  Didn't we just get married in the temple?  That's not how eternal families treat each other!  Day by day after that, it got worse and worse.  Before long, the "B" word was a household word and feeling hurt and belittled was common place.  About a year after we were married I went to see the bishop because of all the problems we were having.  He couldn't believe it.  I told him how "he who can't be named" wouldn't say prayers or want to read scriptures as a family and how he was emotionally abusive and called me a "B" all the time.  It seemed like Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde to him because "he who can't be named" didn't act that way at church, he even said prayers in bishopric meetings.  (He was the elders quorum pres.)
One night, my son Elijah was crying.  He was three and half and I suppose he was having a bad dream.  "He who can't be named" wouldn't let me go console him.  Soon Elijah was banging at our door crying.  I got up, "He..." said, if you go out, you can't come back in. Sounds crazy right?  Why not?  I don't know.  I started crying in my bed and wouldn't face him.  This upset him and he came over to pick my up like how you would hold a baby with one hand under the neck and the other under the knee.  If it were today, I would have left and slept on the couch without thinking twice but I was nonconfrontational and somewhat timid and just cried and prayed.  Well, I didn't want to be kicked out so when he started picking me up I started kicking to be put down.  I inadvertantly kicked him in the face.  If you thought he was mad before, omg.  He went into the kitchen and picked up the phone.  He said he was calling 911.  WHAT??  On ME???  I was just defending myself.  I started thinking of the cops being there with the lights and the neighbors and the rumors.  I started to worry if he would tell stories and that somehow the cops would believe him like the bishop and somehow I would end up in jail.  I cried so hard and begged him not to call.  I don't remember anything after that, except that Elijah and I were both still crying and then it was morning.  Can you say silent treatment??  A couple days later, it was a Saturday I remember because he was supposed to be at a priesthood meeting which I later found out was about spousal abuse.  ha ha ha.  Not a good one to miss buster.  I was sitting on the floor organizing something in the bookcase.  He said something to me and I gave some sarcastic response.  The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, pushing my face into the carpet.  I couldn't move an inch.  I felt small like piece of dust and worthless.  It was useless to try to get out from under him so I just waited until he was through.  At this point, believe it or not, I still loved him but I was not in love anymore. The cuddly love feeling had been replace by some empty hole.  One day, Elijah was sitting on his lap and "He.." slapped him in the face.  The mark was there for almost a week.  Elijah was three.  What could a three year old do to deserve that?   "He..." didn't admit to it right away even though the handprint was very obvious.  When he finally admitted it, he said it was because Elijah peed on his leg.  I'm sure it's because he was afraid of "Him".  I went to my bishop again this time with "Him".  I had made the bishop promise not to tell before because I was worried what "He.." would do if "He..." found out.  The bishop said there was nothing he could do if he couldn't talk to "Him" so I agreed to come in together.  So there we were.  Somehow "He.." found out I had been there a handful of times "complaining" about him and he lost it.  If it were a cartoon, you would be able to see smoke coming from his nostrils.  "He..." starting pointing his finger at the bishop and I and calling us liars an hipocrits and then he stormed out.  "He.." used to drive a one of those loud chuga luga trucks.  We could hear him just sitting there in his truck for about 5 minutes.  The bishop asked me if he could follow me home.  I agreed.  In that church there is a long hall way before you leave.  I said a prayer that if "He.." killed me, that someone would take good care of Elijah.  I think if you're praying about your husband possibly killing you and it isn't a dream, that's not a good marriage to be in.  I'd seen all the shows about abusive partners and "He.." fit the bill 100%.  All the red flags were there. 
On the days that things weren't horrible, they were ok, sometimes even good.  It's how we stayed together for as long as we did. 
On Christmas, we drove to Utah to spend time with our families.  I brought "L" along. We played Christmas music because well, it was Christmas.  "He.." put headphones on.  The big clunky ones.  I was sitting next to Scrooge himself.  Well, "He.." was on one.  He started playing his typical music with vulgar messages and words that would make your Mother cringe.  We had small children in the truck and "L" to boot. I didn't want them exposed to that filth.  I reached up and turned it off.  He slapped my hand and we fishtailed to a stop right in the middle of the road where he called me a "B" and told me to get out.  I don't think so.  I told him if he called me "B" one more time I would leave him.  I don't know that being called a "B" is worthy of leaving a marriage but I had to draw to draw the line somewhere I was tired of how he treated me.  Well it might have been another 10 minutes before he called me that again.  I made the decision right then I would leave to teach him a lesson and think about how he was treating me.  I gave me Dad the keys to our house and told him to get weeks worth of my things and I would just go home to my parents as soon as we got back to California.  The next day, "L" and I went to the temple in Salt Lake, "He.." didn't want to go.  On the way home, I asked what we were going to do that night and he said he "HE" was going to the movies but he didn't know what I was doing.  I just looked out the window the whole way home.  We were supposed to go sledding with some friends after the temple.  "He.." said he didn't feel like going and went to lay down.  I went to lay down with him.  That's when he said "I want a F..ing divorce".  I started bawling.  Where did that come from?  He took off in his truck.  I called my sister.  She came and got me and Elijah and "L".  She started ripping the buttons off of his shirts but I yelled at her to stop.  I just wanted to get out of there.  Then "He.." pulled in the driveway.  He asked where I was going.  I reminded him of what he had just told me.  He said I "took it out of context."  WHATEVER!!  We left.  As soon as we got to my sisters house, I took my name off of all of his credit cards and his name off of all of mine.  I bought plane tickets for the three of us and we left the next morning.  My Dad was home and unbeknownst to me had emptied all of my things out of the house.  I had said one weeks worth.  I was glad though.  I ended up staying with my parents for about two months.  During that time.  "He.." came to my job and asked me lunch... something he had never had time for before now.  We started going to marriage counseling and he started going to anger management.  He made a bunch of promises and I wanted desperately to believe them.  Things were really rocky but we thought we'd give it another try to try and save the marriage.  For the first two weeks, it was just like right after we were married.  Then he stopped going to anger management and started drinking again.  I had found out after we were married that he was an alcoholic.  A dry one but one nonetheless.  This drinking again wasn't good.  I wonder though if he had been doing for a long time and was hiding it.??  Well, needless to say this trial flopped.  I spoke with his ex-wife and found out that he had been abusive with her, put her in the hospital.  She'd had a restraining order out on him and that's why they got divorced.  I decided that I wanted no more to do with this marriage.  This is when I found out I was pregnant.  GREAT!!! 
"He.." told me would keep the baby or we could place it for adoption but that if I tried to keep it, he would "fight tooth and nail" for it.  I prayed like never before.  After single parenting and knowing the life she would be subjected to with "Him" if I kept her, I decided to place. 
SEE, I told you it would tie into adoption.  I know I'm forgetting tons of details so forgive me if I go back and forth at times. 
I called my sister who had been telling me forever to leave that blankety blank jerk to come get me.  Within 48 hours she was there with a truck.  We loaded up my things, Jerry rigged the truck and headed to Utah.  I've got a great pic of the truck.. I 'll dig it up and post it.   
Well, time to get the girls ready for bed.  I'll find that pic and write more later.  Have a wonderful day!!  :)

....Where to begin? I've been meaning to do a blog for a long time. The story of my life. A new year has begun and new goals have been made. So I'm making the time to create this blog to document my story and hopefully help people along the way.
This blog is dedicated to Savannah, a beautiful, sweet angel that I gave birth to and placed into the arms of a loving couple just over 8 years ago. What a bitter sweet time in my life. It was by far the hardest but also the sweetest. I was squeezed and pressed through the pain of the refiners fire and grew by leaps and bounds. I have tasted the bitter and the sweet and I am so grateful for the "Sun Shiny Days" with which I have been blessed.

So here is my story:

Most adoption stories start with the child they placed but mine began much earlier. I was 23 years old living in Miami. I had a great job. I had my own apartment, great friends and life was good. I worked a lot but in my free time I painted and spent way too much time at the beach and in the dance clubs. I had never been in a relationship before I met.. lets call him "Dread" for more reasons than one. I had some issues in my past that caused me to keep a safe distance away from the male gender. By the time I came into my early to mid twenties I realized that I was going to live a lonely life if I didn't start broadening my horizons. When "Dread" crossed my path, it was lust at first sight. I was all about the dreadlocks and carribean accent. He had me at hello. :) We got along great.. enjoyed the same music and foods and activities. I also found out a little later that he was friends with a famous reggae singer which was extremely cool. What I didn't find out until MUCH later is that he had a whole other family and had just had a baby girl shortly before I met him. Yes, I was in denial but I had nothing to compare this relationship too and almost desperately wanted to be in one. Well, fast forward 3 1/2 years later.. I woke up with an awful stomach ache and took every kind of over the counter medicine you can get. None of them worked so I called in sick to work with what I thought was a stomach flu. I ended up calling in sick then next day too. I was a mananger at an electronics store and needed to be at work so the third day, even though I was still sick, I came in anyways. It was clearly evident that I was suffering to everyone who saw me. At some point, I was leaning against a counter grimacing with a green face. A group of friends at my job made some cracks about me being pregnant. It was the first time I considered the idea that maybe I was. I went and purchased a pregnancy test but was too afraid to take it. The next Sunday was superbowl Sunday. I was watching TV in the living room with my good friend and then roommate Cindy. I had the test in the back of my mind. At half time I went into the bathroom and took the test. It says to turn it over and wait three minutes.... YEAH RIGHT! Does ANYONE do that? I can't stand suspense, it may have been turned over on the counter for half a second and that's all it took because when I turned it over, there they were.... two very dark purplish lines. OMG!!! Immediately 10 million thoughts go through your head.... Panic, Excitement, Fright, Elation, Wonder, Compassion..... the list goes on and on. I felt like my head was going to explode. I walked out calmly and actually don't remember anything else that happened that day.
"Dread" came with me to 2 or 3 appointments but like the past three years, wasn't around a whole lot. When I finally got up the nerve to call my parents in California about two weeks later, which by the way is huge for me... I usually tell all, I was so nervous. My Dad told me to call my bishop and then call him back. Well that never happened. I suggested to "Dread" the idea of adoption but he made me feel like it was an unthinkable crime. I didn't even give it a second thought. He would never admit it but what he really wanted me to do was the actual unthinkable crime. When I went to the Dr. I found out I was 11 weeks pregnant but I told "Dread" I was 13 weeks so as to be beyond the allowable time for performing that unthinkable crime. So I was having a baby. The plan was to keep working and "Dread" would be a stay at home Dad. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. On the night of August 2nd 1997, I woke up "Dread" because I was having very painful and fast contractions. He ended up taking me to the hospital but when he found out I was actually having the baby (it was almost 6 weeks early) he left. I suppose tending to the daily needs of his other family was more imortant at that moment. He was not there when the baby was born. I'll never forget how abandoned and unloved I felt at that time. Well, I had the baby early, a little 3 lb. 10 oz. Elijah. So precious. I had no idea what I was in for. Elijah was in the NICU for over two weeks. I think "Dread" came with me twice to see Elijah there. I remember driving home from the hospital. It was just he and I in the car. I felt like I had a treasure worth a biliion dollars in the back seat and I was so worried that I would get in an accident on the way home or he would spit up and choke. I hated not being able to see him all the way back there.
It is so much work to be a parent. On the third day after coming home from the hospital I had hardly slept at all, I remember sitting up in my bed crying. I was nursing Elijah. I was physically and emotionally spent. there are no words to describe how tiring and exhausting it is to single parent. That's not to say the children aren't worth it, but those little angels deserve more. It is so hard to give and give and give without being able to replenish the stock.
I was given 6 weeks of maternity leave. It wasn't much longer after that that I realized this whole plan wasn't working out. "Dread" used my car as his own and consistently made me late to work or picked me up late from work. The first week back, I was brought into the Store Managers office because of so many tardies and my performance (can you say exausted??). Nothing was working out like I thought it would... like "Dread" said it would. One day I couldn't get a hold of him and found out he had left my little Elijah with some lady who I beleive had a problem with drugs. I didn't know her very well but I heard lots of stories. When I found out it was because he didn't want his other family to find out about Elijah I was done. My sister came out to visit from California and I vented to her all over the place. She told me I needed to leave him. Right when I heard it, I knew in a deep small spot in my heart it was right. But that deep small spot was so coated in artificial sweetners that it was hard to dig through to it. But I knew it was there and somehow I was able to recognize it and even more amazing is that somehow I found the strength to accept it. She spoke to my parents and they agreed to have me come out there to stay with them. It is virtually impossible to single parent without help... an infant anyways. I invited "Dread" to come to California with me, thinking somehow he would want to be with me and his son. I was SOOOO naive. Within 10 weeks after Elijah was born, we were both on a plane... a one way trip to California.
You may be asking yourself what any of this has to do with adoption. You will see....
It wasn't until I had separated myselft far from that situation that I began to see it for what it really was; a joke. That was no relationship, it was a fantasy filled with lies and betrayal and pain. At the time, it was the hardest thing I'd ever done.. to make the decision to leave him. He was the only man I had ever loved. The only man who as awful as he was, wanted to be with me. In time I would learn that hard things aren't necesarrily bad things and that you learn and grow beyond imagination when you endure hard trials.
Well I'm not sure if I'm givin the story or just rambling so I'm going to do this in parts. I need to tend to my kids so I'll be back to continue this story, until then... have a wonderful day! :)