About Me

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Lyndonville, Vermont, United States
Hi there and welcome to my blog. I am a married 60 year old woman who still has the mind of a twenty year old. I have three children and two grandsons. I've been to hell and back each time stronger than the time before. If I can help you then it was all worth it.

Monday, September 9, 2019

Losing Your Child #FindAmy#LosingAChild#CallAFreeLawyer

It all started innocently enough. I had finally made it clear my marriage to Don was over. I had no more love for the guy. My In-laws helped me get an apartment in a town called Desert Hot Springs in California. I loved it. I had my little girl who was four at the time. I started a babysitting gig making a little money. Amy had friends to play with. It was perfect. But like everything else in my life it didn't last very long. Long-lasting happiness was very elusive to hold on to.


I remember meeting a young woman. I don't remember how or where but I remember her. She was homeless and true to form I offered my place not wanting her to be living on the streets. 

I had always been fascinated by Harley Davidson motorcycles. I would read Easy Rider magazine laughing at the funny things bikers did to get even with someone. I loved poring over the bikes wanting that family type atmosphere very badly. If you have been keeping up with my blog my growing up was pretty crappy.  
So my new friend happily moved in. My daughter was with my mother for the weekend freeing me up to, to do my own thing. There was a smallish Pub right down the street I had never been to but she already had gone in. I had no interest so with a lot of prodding I finally went. I walked in and loved the place. It was wide open, cheery, had a great bartender, family-like atmosphere, two pool tables outback. It became my second home.

Well with my new friend who I will leave unnamed came a club of bikers. I immediately became friends with some of them inviting over for lunch or dinner. The whole Pub was where you went if you wanted to find someone. I became friends with everyone meeting a man I was instantly attracted to.

I was in love, again, and was invited to move in where he was living. It was great I thought, having a park right across the street. I could bring Amy over to the park to play. The biker riders soon became friends with the men who lived in town inviting them to become part of their club so off our men went. When our men came back they had been assigned different positions in the club. I was in heaven hearing Harley Davisions roaring up or leaving our place. I love the deep roar of their engines.

So now I was a biker with lots of sisters and brothers going off to biker rallies meeting more and more people. I loved it. I remember being at a rally in the parking lot. I was surrounded by Harleys and they all started up at once. The roar was deafening. I remember throwing my head back in sheer joy happy to be alive.

When I joined this huge carnival which is another story coming soon, was when I was in this club. I was so happy but as time went the hard facts started to come out. It was okay to hit a woman. It was a part of life. If you got hit you deserved it. The woman would get together sharing stories of how they deserved their black eyes or the bruises they had on their bodies. It was insane. On the other hand, if you needed backup bam, they were there. Fair enough trade right? Wrong.

I just wanted to be part of a big family who cared about each other, was there when you needed them. So I had a double life that was starting to merge into one life which was not good. My mother who thought she knew everything that was best for me came one day unannounced. I and my man had a party the night before letting the 'brothers' spend the night. When I answered the door she looked in seeing a bunch of bearded biker men with all the biker gear on freaked out. She didn't understand that they were just men same as anyone else.

Anyways we decided to leave to where my boyfriend had moved from. I had called my mother letting her know I was leaving. She then begged me to let her keep my daughter until we got settled. After a half-hour of pleading, I finally was convinced it was the right thing to do. I made up two forms stating my mother could bring Amy to the hospital or doctor. Another form that I was leaving my daughter in my mothers' custody until we were settled.

Well, that all went up in smoke. It took almost a year to get a job, work there long enough to take out a loan, renting a big enough apartment for three. I finally had my loan money for a ticket to California. I was so excited I was coming for my baby girl. The day before I was ready to go to the airport I got a letter. It was from my mother. The Department of Human Services had come and took my baby girl into their custody. The letter flew up in the air fluttering down all around me as I threw back my head and howled in pain. The guy I was with threw his arms around me as I screamed in pain and frustration.

When I finally calmed down I was pissed. I ran down to a payphone called the Human Services people asking what the hell happened? They wanted me to come to California. I couldn't. You see we had left because of a disagreement with the club we had been in. My home was in tatters where would I stay? I didn't say anything about the biker club telling them everything else.

I tried to do everything they wanted me to do. It would go for three months of going to counseling. My mother had told them all kinds of things about me. I was a drunk was the big one. They would okay Amy to come to me. Next thing I knew they changed their minds telling me to go to more counseling. I found out later my mother was fighting to keep Amy in California so I would come back. So back and forth it went.

I was still working becoming pregnant. Almost a year of them jerking me around had taken a strain on me. I had a chemical imbalance that I wasn't aware of yet so that wasn't helping. When I became six months pregnant, it had been almost two years I was fighting to get my daughter. The strain was too much, the disappointment was too much, I went into false labor. This had happened a couple of times before but at six months it was putting the baby I had inside me at risk. The doctor gave me a choice, keep trying and risk losing your baby. Or let it your baby girl go. The choice almost killed me. I had to pick my unborn with the thought I would get Amy on a later date.

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