my biological daughter- slept over Friday night... she brought her baby book I made her when she was still with me. Inside it had Jarred's full name spelled out (Her biological father). Out of curiosity I looked him up on Google. He died five years ago! I'm kind of weirded out by this. Really mixed emotions. I feel safe and happy that he can't mess their lives up... and at the same time I am really sad for them that- IF he had fixed himself they will never have the chance to know that he was a great guy at least for a little while. I still HATE him for abandoning us. I still have a lot of anger that I repressed and it is bubbling to the surface. I know I can get through this but I still am very angry at him even though he is dead. I placed them to protect them from HIM. If I had known he was going to die I would have kept them and just hid from him... so conflicted... so angry. I did indeed love him and gave him all of me despite all the cheating, lying, and stealing he did. I hurt for my children... if he had been somewhat a decent human, if he had at least helped a bit and not been mixed up in gangs and drugs I would have kept them... I would never have had all these years of pain. Jarred was a good guy when I met him. Then his brother came back to Utah from California and needed a place to stay, so of course we let him move in with us. His brother was trouble with a capital T. He claimed he was a "blood", and next thing I knew Jarred did too. He sold drugs, and next thing I knew Jarred quit his job and was dealing too. His brother began doing the Meth and not just selling it... and next thing so did Jarred. That is when life turned very tumultuous. I grew up in an abusive home and wanted to stay as far away from it as possible, but to get away from the drugs and keep my newborn daughter safe I had to move home to my abusive father. Jarred came back and begged us to move with him to his mother's home, he promised he would change and so I gave our life another chance. I wanted my daughter to have her family, a mother and a father... but three days after I moved into his mother's home he went to go "apply for a job" and didn't come back. I didn't see him again for a week or two, and of course I took him back after he begged and pleaded and made more empty promises. The last time I saw him I told him I was pregnant again. Our daughter was only four months old when I conceived again. That night he stole everything I had of value, including all the money in her piggy bank- her "future college fund". He took my bus pass, all the money in my wallet, my gold necklace and the pearls that once belonged to my grandmother. I didn't see him again or hear from him until after I had placed the children. Coming to the decision to place was the hardest time of my life. I didn't place them to hurt him, or get back at him, or to have my freedom, I did it to protect them. I knew they would get older and he would want to spend time with them SOMEday... I was so afraid of that "someday". I was afraid he would get them hooked on Meth. I was afraid he would get them mixed up in gangs. I would do anything to protect them... and so I did the one thing I could- I placed them for adoption. He never saw his son in the three months that I had him. I don't think he even knew our son's name. I am sorry to his family- that his step-mother had to hurt over my placing the children for adoption. She and her husband were good to us, but they couldn't do for us what was needed to survive in this world. I wish there had been a way.
