Wounded At Birth (1964)

A few years ago a teacher told me that being adopted at birth was like a near death experience - click here to read about that.  I wrote the following blog in response to that.  If it is not completely factual, neither is it a work of fiction. If it was a film, the makers would put a caption up at the start saying “Based on a true story”.

Stephen was conceived in hiding.  He was a mistake.  Pat and Keith knew it was wrong but did it any way.  The deceit was palpable.  They carried on until the moment they discovered that the seed and egg had formed a foetus – and then it was over.

Keith ran away and hid from his responsibilities, never to be seen again.  Pat, covered in shame and regret, gave up her life and returned to her parents.  But what to do with Stephen?

Pat didn’t want him.  Pat’s parents certainly didn’t want him.  And Keith had already opted out.  Whilst Stephen lay peacefully in his amniotic sac, the debate about his future went on around him in whispers and shadows, filled with blame, reproach, and impenetrable shame.  

Except Stephen wasn’t a him, just an ‘it’, a mistake, a secret, an aberration, a punishment.  Eventually they decided that Pat could give birth to it but not bring it back to the parents’ home.  So it would have to stay in hospital and be given away at the earliest possible time.

They made contact with the social services – more shame.  Of course they could make arrangements.  Of course they would find someone to take it off their hands.  It would all be over with the minimum of fuss.  Just give birth and the system will take it from there.

So on with the pregnancy.  It got bigger, no love.  And bigger, just shame.  Hiding the bulge, the alien inside.  Staying in, can’t be seen like this with no husband.  Curtains twitching, neighbours gossiping.  Keeping it a secret from friends and family.

Giving birth to Stephen heaped shame upon shame.  She would not hold him for fear of being ‘infected’ with connection or love; perhaps the hate for what he represented had taken hold.

For eight days Stephen lay in a hospital cot.  Fed, watered, changed, winded but unloved, totally unloved.  Pat stayed too, she had no choice.   The time passed slowly, each day the secret was there on display.  Until at last foster parents were found, and Stephen was gone from view. 

By the way, I am Stephen.