Welcome to Deb's Page!

About Deb:
 I've always been into creative arts and creative writing. I was born & raised in NY where I was involved in music, dance, drama, working with the physically & mentally challenged, involved with CP & MDA telethons. I left for the West Coast after surrendering legal rights to my baby. My very supportive husband & I met in California where we got married, had one daughter & raised many critters including, dogs, horses, a parrot, goat, etc. My son & daughter each have a boy & girl. My career covers hotel management & health care including advocacy for rape crisis, domestic violence, child abuse & alcohol related victims. Presently, I  work for a local hospital in Nevada. I believe that pretty much describes me!

Deb creatively shares her story in poem....

My Story
3/18/82

My story is a familiar one but at length it should be told

To those who always pass judgment--
labeling the good, the bad and the bold.

I thought only God could pass judgment. He witnessed the rape that night.

"Such a good boy", they'd say, "very warm, very bright".

Nobody knew he had problems. They wouldn't believe it. "It must be a lie!"

He said he never touched me. The words he said will stay with me

until the day I die.

 "How many boys have you lain with? So many, your mind can't remember?"
" Go hide yourself in shame." I entered the Home in December.

The Home for Unwed Mothers was a place of comfort, you see.

There were different aged girls with stories of their own and they were pregnant, just like me.

 We shared our stories, our fears and our woes.
"What's right for our babies?" Nobody knows.

I had a lot to think about and I knew what had to be done.

        I couldn't let my heart overrule my mind-

cause he had the right to a better life and to total freedom.

I couldn't raise my innocent child unwed.
With no money, no job and a fear of the town--I relinquished my rights instead.

 My little boy looked just like me and I loved him with all my heart. I held him and fed him for four days straight.
On my birthday I said, "Good-bye" and he cried when I last saw him---
Now, thirteen years later, I still fall apart.

I was told, "You'll forget! Be thankful he's gone.
You needn't a bastard. You'll have others born."

But he was my first and my only son.
I tried to get him back but the social worker won.

It's not like he's dead, which would mean he's gone forever.
He's alive somewhere-- Maybe thinking of his Birthmother.

I gave him life and I pray that it's bright,
with parents who love him and guide him just right.

If he sees with his mind as well as his eyes...

If he laughs with his soul and touches with his heart....

If he understands and loves himself....and shares this with others...

Then they've guided him as I would.

I could be proud and happy-actually knowing I did the "right thing". 

 The very hard part is the wondering.

He grew under my heart and he was meant to be..

But now, emptiness remains, inside of me.

And her reunion story..........

 Other Poems by Debbie
A Need to Search
The Power of a Wish
The Ultimate Sacrifice
A Love Like No Other