My mom married my stepfather while she was still pregnant with me, so it wasn’t until years later that I found out he was not my biological father.
I never knew my biological father — it was a family secret, and to this day, I still don’t know him. This family secret was not the only one, but secrets can become normal for someone unless they are revealed.
Growing up was “normal” for me, I thought. I have three younger brothers — all who were born to my mother and stepfather. We did the things families normally do: camping, fishing, and celebrating birthdays and holidays. We went to movies, laughed together and enjoyed playing outside. We occasionally we went to church. One thing which wasn’t truly normal however, was the secret between me and my stepfather. From as young as I can remember, he sexually molested me. I knew nothing different. As I said, I thought it was normal. This was a secret no one knew – a secret he told me I must keep, and I was too terrified to tell anyone anyway. I’m guessing someone around us may have suspected something, but we moved a lot — five times by the time I was in 7th grade.
This horrible secret went on for years and probably would have never been completely revealed until one day when I started having abdominal pain which got worse as the day went on. I told my mom and she brought me to the doctor. At the age of thirteen, I was in labor, and I was absolutely scared to death! I was worried about mom and how devastating this would be for her to find out, and fear of what would happen next. But while in the hospital, no one asked me who the father was. Today, as a heath care professional, this would have been the first thing I would have asked, and I would not have wanted a 13-year-old mother to be sent home without knowing she was safe.
Now, as you all know, you must first be pregnant before you can go into labor, right? Yes, I had been pregnant for several months. I remember feeling the baby move, but I was scared, and perhaps in denial. I was 13, and although my body was feeling different, I really never showed. Without showing, nobody asked any questions, and without questions, the secret could continue, and I just lived it. This was my “normal.” But going into labor was the inconvenient truth nobody could keep covered.
My mom is an incredibly strong woman. I can’t imagine what was going through her mind at that time, but she never left my side. What pain must she have endured wondering who had done this to her daughter? She later told me that her immediate thought was that one of the fathers of the children I babysat did this to me. My brother revealed to me years later that he suspected what was going on because he saw his father going into my room regularly, but he was young and scared as well.
I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. The first thing I remember is that I cried, and I felt happy. There was this little person laying on my belly, she was crying, I was looking at her, and I was in awe that she was just so beautiful! When I looked at her I didn’t see him, I didn’t see the crappy stuff that was going on in my life – I didn’t see any of that. I just saw her.
After being cleaned up, a nurse brought my daughter back into the room again. It was late at night and I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about her. I felt relief to see her again and to hold her, knowing she was healthy. All I could think of was about the better life I knew she was going to have. I didn’t want to bring her into my horrible situation since I had no hope it would end. Being only thirteen and in light of everything which I knew was to come, I chose adoption for her. The heaviness in my heart was gone as I thought of the good life she would have.
I thought life as “normal” would go on, and we quickly just forgot everything. We did not speak about who did this to me. My baby went to a foster home while awaiting placement with an adoptive family, and I returned to live with my brothers, mother, and yes, even stepfather. The lie continued, though my stepfather avoided me. Life was going back to “normal.” However, the truth was about to come out.
About a week after I went home, the social worker I was assigned to at the hospital had my mom and me come to her office. At the social worker’s insistence, I told my secret. I felt like I had crushed my mom’s heart! In my mind, I had deceived her. In my mind, I was destroying her marriage. In my mind, it was all my fault this was happening.
Amazingly, my mom believed me without doubt and she supported me. I felt like a thousand-pound brick was lifted off my shoulders! The healing could begin. However, because of everything that had occurred, I requested to go to a foster home. My request was granted.
I was placed in foster care with wonderful people. My stepfather was arrested. At trial, he was convicted and sentenced to 90 days in jail with work release, and 15 years of probation. That’s not much of a sentence. He got off easy in my mind. But he denied ever having intercourse with me – never penetrating, claiming he masturbated and that I was somehow inseminated that way. Preposterous, right? And yet, he apparently got away with that story.
While I was in the foster home, my stepfather returned home with my mom and brothers. My mom was raised in a strong Catholic family, and was too ashamed to let her parents know the dark secret. She’s also struggled from a low self-esteem. I was just glad to be out of there at the time. We all started family counseling, and I personally went to counseling. That was a real blessing for me. I learned I could heal and maybe become a whole person for the first time in my life.
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