Lost and Found

What the Shiz

Jamie's P.O.V.

"WHY DID YOU WANT TO ADOPT ME AFTER FOUR YEARS?!" I asked more screamed to my mother.

"Jamie, listen to your father. We're not close to finished."

"No ma. I think I want to hear this all from you."

"Okay. Jonathan, I'll continue."

She took a deep breath in and started to continue. She looked at the wall intently. Unlike my dad, who spoke to everyone, she spoke to me.

"Those adoption papers weren't for you. They were for our other daughter Eva. After he took you and left I moved. I couldn't bare living in the house that had memories of you and your drunken father. I had loving memories of you taking your first steps, learning to walk, saying my name, everything. But I also had memories of your eyes filled with fear as beer bottles crashed on the floor and an anonymous hand slapping your face. To you it was anonymous, and to me, well, I guess it was anonymous to me as well. I didn't know who the man that beer bottle and powerful hand belonged to. He wasn't the man I fell in love with. So I moved. I moved to Santa Fe. While you all lived here in Los Angeles, I moved to Santa Fe. I'd lived there as a child and it was the only place I could escape to. I gave birth to Eva there. It was just the two of us for a year until I went to the hospital for a check up because I wasn't feeling well. They asked me if they could do check-ups and I said why not. They had asked me if I knew how to do a self breast cancer check and I said no. They found it very odd that a lady of my age didn't know so they told me and asked if they could be of assistance. I was completely confused so Ms. Janton did it for me. She gasped and called in another doctor. I believe her name was Mrs. Edith? I can't quite remember. But she as well gasped and told me that I had quite noticeable 'lumps'. I agreed, I had known about them but I thought it was weird, but normal. They said they would have to take blood examples and do oh so many tests. Once they were done they said it'd take a few weeks before they would know for sure. They also explained to me what were to happen if I did indeed have breast cancer. I asked them how much it were to cost and they said a very large amount. At this point I started panicking and praying. I was a single woman living off a teacher salary, raising a one year old, in an apartment. I prayed so much, that I would not have to give Eva up but I soon got the call from the hospital. They apologized and gave their condolences. I did have breast cancer. They said it was the calmest stage though. And that it would be a while before I would have to do regular check-ups. But they suggested I have a check-up the following day. I agreed. The next day they did some things that I can't really describe. But after the hospital visit, before I picked Eva up from her daycare, I went to an adoption agency. I went to a lady and asked if I could have some 'For Adoption' papers. I had to. It was the only way Eva could have a good life. They had told me the facts, figures, and just the simple difficulties of having a little child being around a woman constantly in and out of the hospital, having different things being done, and what not. The lady who gave me the papers asked me plentiful times if this was what I wanted. I nodded my head, because I couldn't say I wanted this- who would want to give their daughter up?? The lady handed me the papers and told me that I needed to get it signed by the mom and dad. But if the dad were somewhere else then that was okay, it just may be a little more difficult for other parents to want to adopt because they wouldn't know where the other half of the genes would come from. I told her I would take care of that and left. I picked up Eva and went home. I was crying so much and Eva knew something was wrong. She climbed in my lap and said "Momma, wha wrrownng?" I laughed and said "Nothing Sweetie." She smiled and said "Nothinng sweetie," back to me."

"Mom. You can stop. I get it." I say to get my mother to stop talking. Her body is shaking and everything is uncontrollable. I know this can seriously affect her health. All the stuff she just said obviously affected me. And some a little disturbing, but mostly, I could feel a little piece of myself break off.

Now I looked at her and she was crying, not crying, more. I was so sad that this was happening, and more importantly that I pushed for all this to come out.

I pushed until her breaking point. Now we're both broken.

"No Jamie. There's more."

"It can wait." I say back to my mother.

"I don't think it can." My father spoke after a long silence.

What was he talking about?