I was nineteen on the 2nd and you were born the next day,
in just a few short weeks you'd be taken far away.
Never to be seen again or heard of how you're doing, or even if you're well,
for twenty-three years I can tell you life's been a living hell.
If you could check the records you would find that I had changed my mind,
as I did not want to give you away.
But once again the family pressure it was brought to bear,
so never let them tell you that I just didn't care.
A total of six weeks before new adoptive parents they could find,
six weeks of loving and caring for you is etched indelibly on my mind.
How can I just forget you? That's impossible you see,
you will forever be a part of me.
"Robyn Jean" the names I gave you, but probably that's been changed,
as that's not what they had planned for you. Your life was re-arranged.
But "Robyn Jean" is the daughter, that I proudly bore,
And that's a fact that can't be changed. It remains forever more.
Some mothers lose their children. They pass on in their sleep,
others grow then disappear from a busy street.
I lost mine through adoption, but that doesn't ease the pain,
you see the grief that's suffered is just the bloody same.
I said that it's the same, but really it is worse,
because it's suffered in silence therefore it's not shared,
with relatives, friends and neighbours that know how much you cared.
You're not allowed to talk about your child that someone else has reared.
The grief is a combination of a mother's loss at birth,
and the mother's fears for the child who disappeared,
just vanished from this earth.
It's that question of not knowing alive or are you dead?
Or why it had to happen, that keeps going round one's head.
But the biggest fear one has, is should we ever meet.
You would turn and walk away, back down that busy street.
Please don't judge me harshly for the decision I was forced to make,
to place you for adoption " It was best for everyone's sake."
Or that's what I was made to believe by society,
a society that shrouded your birth in so much secrecy.
They told of how we would bring our family such shame,
but the only shame that I now see,
is you've no knowledge of your mother's maiden name.
"There would be other babies just wait and see,"
but ask any mother I'm sure she will agree.
Each child is different they can't be replaced,
the memory of a child just can't be erased.
Yes there were other babies two sons to a marriage that's true,
but they were kidnapped by their dad and a woman that we knew.
But now I have a daughter and I'm not married you see,
this time I don't give a damn what society thinks of me.
Yes Robyn you have two brothers and a sister,
they're branches of your family tree,
but you were grafted to another family.
Then there is your natural dad,
and the family he has had.
I know of at least one,
that brother or sister is just a few weeks younger than you,
it turned out he had both of us concurrently up the flue.
I always said "the girl he married, her father had two barrels to his gun,"
unfortunately my dad could only afford one.
You see my dad had reared nine children on his own,
so coming from this poor background,
I was unable to bring my baby home.
By now you may have married and had children of your own,
so once again it's life's pleasures I'm denied,
the pleasure of grandchildren, a grandmother's special pride.
How much must one suffer for making one mistake?
I had no way of knowing what was at stake,
if I had I'd never have let them con me into giving you away.
I was questioned if there was mental illness in my heredity,
but no one ever cared about creating mental illness by separating you from me.
It's A Cause It Don't Acquire It Philosophy.
I love you Robyn, my first born and I just want to say,
if your ears are ever burning, you will know I'm talking about you,
telling someone how much you're missed.
And how I am so sorry for giving you away.
From Your Loving Mum.
This is a poem I wrote about my daughter,
who I knew God, in his mercy would re-unite us one day,
We met on the 2nd of May, 1997.
