Legal fund for Leona
Spende geschützt
My friend, Leona Darnell, is going through a struggle and this is the best way I know to help her. Her story is below and I would greatly appreciate it if you could spare some time to read it. If you have the ability to help with even the smallest donation, she, and I, would be forever grateful. Leona and I met through a local moms group and connected because we are the same age, conceived in the same way, and have children the same age. I used to be an adoption social worker and I know how very important an open adoption is, particularly for the children involved. It has been agonizing to witness my friend going through this heartache and doing everything in her power to keep a connection for her son and for the twins she so graciously made the best plan she could for them. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
As written by Leona:
Let me start off by saying this is nothing I intended to share publicly. About half of you know the truth while the other half has no idea. Still even a smaller few have any idea the pain, anxiety, depression and constant battle this has been.
Let me also say that there will be a good many of you that will silently pass judgement. Let me be the first to say there is nothing you can think, feel or say that I haven’t already said to myself over the past 5.5 years. I have heard it all from my own inner dialogue.
It is with a heavy heart that I briefly explain my current situation.
As many women have learned the older one gets, the more difficult becoming pregnant gets. In 2012 I turned to IVF as becoming pregnant any other way (natural, IUI) had all failed. I was prepared to do this on my own as a single mother.
After being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses and endless weeks of giving myself shots, through the tears, hopes and prayers I became pregnant. What a wonderful day that was. I remember the moment I found out as I danced around my living room and cried and yelled and called as many friends as I could. There was a chance of twins as there were two embryo transfers. While twins would not be my ideal, I would completely accept that. One child for me was enough—both enough emotionally and financially. It would be a stretch with twins and extremely difficult, but I would somehow do it.
As the weeks went on, it was confirmed I was indeed having twins. Oh boy I thought. This is going to be rough. One particular ultrasound is burned into my memory. The nurse doing it was frowning and wouldn’t give me an answer about what was happening. She left and got the doctor. I waited for an eternity only to have the doctor tell me there were three babies. Stunned, I don’t think I said anything, but immediately started to cry. There was a set of identical twins and one fraternal twin.
While many would see triplets as a blessing, this was a nightmare. I was not equipped to have three children.
At 44 years old it was suggested by more than one doctor that I abort one or two. One doctor and I sat and cried together. I cried at home. I cried in the car. My heart was breaking knowing I was going to be unable to keep all of my children. I was not going to abort. That much I knew. I couldn’t keep them all. That much I knew too. I prayed about it.
I found an adoption facilitator who put me in contact with a local family who wanted twins. My only criterion was that a fully open adoption was their primary concern. I didn’t care about their religion, if they had other children or anything. I needed these boys who I struggled to carry be absolutely known to one another, to play together, to have open communication. It needed to be as open as could be and that needed to be of the utmost importance to an adoptive family.
The family I chose seemed to be so kind and loving and swore that an open adoption was their first priority. They would welcome the son I kept and me into their home as family. As heartbreaking as this path was, their reassurances made it easier for me. I knew the boys would not necessarily grow up together, but would be a vital part of each other’s lives.
Now, there are a lot of nuances about adoption I am glossing over that aren’t necessarily crucial to the text I am writing. I made a lot of missteps with this and trusted people that I shouldn’t have including the facilitator. She assumed because we all were getting along so very well, that the post placement agreement (think visitation contract) should be loose and me and the adoptive parents could just “work it out”. Oh that sounded great to everyone. You know everything was rainbows and unicorns during this time.
The weeks went on and all was well with the adoptive mom going to all of my appointments with me. The day came and she was in the OR with me. We had grown close. It was the best day of my life and the worst.
You see, people are revered and celebrated for adopting children. Congratulations all around. Very few, if any, think about the agony of a birth mother. The bleeding of the soul and the pain of giving up a child is nearly unbearable especially a baby you fought so hard to get. The pain never goes away. It is constant. Some days are better than others for sure, but an adoptive parent’s best day is another mother’s worst nightmare.
If you made it this far, I congratulate you and will try to wrap it up. Without getting terribly detailed, after the first year things really went downhill. They didn’t want to see us and when they did a time limit was enforced. The visits got fewer and more strained. I tried very hard to understand and talk to them about why things were changing. I suggested we all go to counseling, to a mediator. Things just got worse and worse. They declined every attempt for us to see a mediator together.
Now 5.5 years later they don’t speak to me or Luca. I get no updates and the visits are terrible. She literally does not speak to my son or me, not even a “hi” when we meet. She doesn’t facilitate any dialogue between myself and the twins and as of last year they didn’t even know my name. She doesn’t really have answers when I ask her why she hates me so much and why she is acting so hateful towards us.
She has recently informed me that they are going down to 8 hours a year and will likely go less. Why? Because the facilitator decided the post placement contract (again think visitation) didn’t need to be detailed.
All that I wanted is the triplets not only to be in each other’s lives, but to be a significant part of each other’s lives. I was assured by these people that would happen and now they are doing everything short of closing the adoption.
I have finally reached out for help. I have hired an open adoption attorney to help with legally rewriting this post placement agreement. What they are doing is NOT in the spirit it was written. These boys have a right to know one another and we, as parents, have a moral obligation to make sure they do. The adoptive parents do not feel this is important. A complete 180 from what I was promised. My attorney is well known and respected and we can only hope to get the adoptive parents to a mediation table and collectively rewrite the post placement agreement together more in the spirit in which the adoption was intended.
It has taken me a long time to get here. The pain and tears day after day about the boys, about the deception I feel towards the adoptive family, the anger I felt towards the facilitator have been all consuming. I just don’t feel I have a choice at this point but to try the legal route.
My legal fees will be approximately $2000. Much less if they agree to a mediator and not see the inside of a courtroom, but to cover myself (because I don’t think they will agree) I am going to need to come up with that and yes, that is sliding scale. I think gofundme’s are incredibly over used and quite odious. I never felt anything would be important enough to use one, but here I am. This is incredibly important to me as you might imagine and even if you cannot contribute (and I hope you will), please send helpful healing thoughts.
As written by Leona:
Let me start off by saying this is nothing I intended to share publicly. About half of you know the truth while the other half has no idea. Still even a smaller few have any idea the pain, anxiety, depression and constant battle this has been.
Let me also say that there will be a good many of you that will silently pass judgement. Let me be the first to say there is nothing you can think, feel or say that I haven’t already said to myself over the past 5.5 years. I have heard it all from my own inner dialogue.
It is with a heavy heart that I briefly explain my current situation.
As many women have learned the older one gets, the more difficult becoming pregnant gets. In 2012 I turned to IVF as becoming pregnant any other way (natural, IUI) had all failed. I was prepared to do this on my own as a single mother.
After being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses and endless weeks of giving myself shots, through the tears, hopes and prayers I became pregnant. What a wonderful day that was. I remember the moment I found out as I danced around my living room and cried and yelled and called as many friends as I could. There was a chance of twins as there were two embryo transfers. While twins would not be my ideal, I would completely accept that. One child for me was enough—both enough emotionally and financially. It would be a stretch with twins and extremely difficult, but I would somehow do it.
As the weeks went on, it was confirmed I was indeed having twins. Oh boy I thought. This is going to be rough. One particular ultrasound is burned into my memory. The nurse doing it was frowning and wouldn’t give me an answer about what was happening. She left and got the doctor. I waited for an eternity only to have the doctor tell me there were three babies. Stunned, I don’t think I said anything, but immediately started to cry. There was a set of identical twins and one fraternal twin.
While many would see triplets as a blessing, this was a nightmare. I was not equipped to have three children.
At 44 years old it was suggested by more than one doctor that I abort one or two. One doctor and I sat and cried together. I cried at home. I cried in the car. My heart was breaking knowing I was going to be unable to keep all of my children. I was not going to abort. That much I knew. I couldn’t keep them all. That much I knew too. I prayed about it.
I found an adoption facilitator who put me in contact with a local family who wanted twins. My only criterion was that a fully open adoption was their primary concern. I didn’t care about their religion, if they had other children or anything. I needed these boys who I struggled to carry be absolutely known to one another, to play together, to have open communication. It needed to be as open as could be and that needed to be of the utmost importance to an adoptive family.
The family I chose seemed to be so kind and loving and swore that an open adoption was their first priority. They would welcome the son I kept and me into their home as family. As heartbreaking as this path was, their reassurances made it easier for me. I knew the boys would not necessarily grow up together, but would be a vital part of each other’s lives.
Now, there are a lot of nuances about adoption I am glossing over that aren’t necessarily crucial to the text I am writing. I made a lot of missteps with this and trusted people that I shouldn’t have including the facilitator. She assumed because we all were getting along so very well, that the post placement agreement (think visitation contract) should be loose and me and the adoptive parents could just “work it out”. Oh that sounded great to everyone. You know everything was rainbows and unicorns during this time.
The weeks went on and all was well with the adoptive mom going to all of my appointments with me. The day came and she was in the OR with me. We had grown close. It was the best day of my life and the worst.
You see, people are revered and celebrated for adopting children. Congratulations all around. Very few, if any, think about the agony of a birth mother. The bleeding of the soul and the pain of giving up a child is nearly unbearable especially a baby you fought so hard to get. The pain never goes away. It is constant. Some days are better than others for sure, but an adoptive parent’s best day is another mother’s worst nightmare.
If you made it this far, I congratulate you and will try to wrap it up. Without getting terribly detailed, after the first year things really went downhill. They didn’t want to see us and when they did a time limit was enforced. The visits got fewer and more strained. I tried very hard to understand and talk to them about why things were changing. I suggested we all go to counseling, to a mediator. Things just got worse and worse. They declined every attempt for us to see a mediator together.
Now 5.5 years later they don’t speak to me or Luca. I get no updates and the visits are terrible. She literally does not speak to my son or me, not even a “hi” when we meet. She doesn’t facilitate any dialogue between myself and the twins and as of last year they didn’t even know my name. She doesn’t really have answers when I ask her why she hates me so much and why she is acting so hateful towards us.
She has recently informed me that they are going down to 8 hours a year and will likely go less. Why? Because the facilitator decided the post placement contract (again think visitation) didn’t need to be detailed.
All that I wanted is the triplets not only to be in each other’s lives, but to be a significant part of each other’s lives. I was assured by these people that would happen and now they are doing everything short of closing the adoption.
I have finally reached out for help. I have hired an open adoption attorney to help with legally rewriting this post placement agreement. What they are doing is NOT in the spirit it was written. These boys have a right to know one another and we, as parents, have a moral obligation to make sure they do. The adoptive parents do not feel this is important. A complete 180 from what I was promised. My attorney is well known and respected and we can only hope to get the adoptive parents to a mediation table and collectively rewrite the post placement agreement together more in the spirit in which the adoption was intended.
It has taken me a long time to get here. The pain and tears day after day about the boys, about the deception I feel towards the adoptive family, the anger I felt towards the facilitator have been all consuming. I just don’t feel I have a choice at this point but to try the legal route.
My legal fees will be approximately $2000. Much less if they agree to a mediator and not see the inside of a courtroom, but to cover myself (because I don’t think they will agree) I am going to need to come up with that and yes, that is sliding scale. I think gofundme’s are incredibly over used and quite odious. I never felt anything would be important enough to use one, but here I am. This is incredibly important to me as you might imagine and even if you cannot contribute (and I hope you will), please send helpful healing thoughts.
Organisator und Spendenbegünstigter
Jennifer Grinager
Organisator
Templeton, CA
Leona Darnell
Spendenbegünstigte