God bless his little heart. He can't help who his parents are, I wish him a good life. I understand what you are saying though, life is tough enough without any handicaps, whether seen or unseen. I don't have a predjudiced bone in my body, all that matters to me is the person who is inside, not the outside. Too bad the little guy couldn't get adopted by some parents who would love and nuture him for the rest of his life. Who knows, he could be your next president. LOL He is very handsome. Thanks so much for posting the pictures and telling the story.

Valerie

Thank you, Valerie. I so wanted to see all my grandchildren grow as long as I am alive, already lost one to adoption, it has been very painful, he is 19 now. There has always been an emptiness in my heart over that, but I never talk much to anyone about it, so it would be hard to take if it happens again. I do want him to have a good life and if, push comes to shove, will try not to be selfish about it.

I can set up a trust fund for him and the others for when I am gone.

Aliska I lost a neice to adoption in 1979, I have never given up the hope of finding her, I understand your loss. I will say a special prayer for little Jerome, I am sure he will find a peaceful place to be the best that he can be.

I would love to see some future pictures of him. Baby pictures always make me smile.

Thanks.

Valerie

Thank you, Valerie, for your kindness. We all have our crosses to bear. I don't consider the biracial thing a cross, it doesn't matter to me, all babies are innocent. Life is precious indeed, especially little lives.

I love the picture!....thanks for posting and comment from both of you!......amen to that!
Please update future pics.
Konrad

Beautiful baby. I hope something will work out for your daughter so she can keep him. I know how you feel I went through a time 27 years ago with my daughter in law wanting to give up my grandson for adoption. My husband had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis " Lou Gehrick disease" and was going to die from it. My son and her lived with us when he was born and they were having problems so she went to Social Services and signed adoption papers. They called me to bring him to them and I refused. I hid him where no one could fid him so Social Services called the police in the town where I lived and sent them to pick him up. I told them I didn't have him. So they told me if I didn't get him and bring him to them I could go to prison for kidnapping. So I went and brought him to my house and called them. They come to pick him up and took me with him assuring me he would go to a good home where he would be loved. My daughter was with me all of this time and shortly after I come back home they called for her to go pick him up. Social Services awarded her custody of him. My husband died three months after this happened. His mother and dad settled their differences and everything worked out ok. Nick will be 27 in October. In the Navy working for NATO. Married to a wonderful woman who is also in the navy. Life has many turns and troubles but they all seem to work out in the end. Just hang in there.

My family and I will also say a prayer for Jerome. Aliska, I feel compelled to respond to the racial comment, I do not intend to argue, you have every right to your opinion, whatever it may be. I never lived a day in your life or walked in your shoes, I am not one to judge. I am bi-racial so your comment itriqued me. The bad characteristic that Jerome's father may have are not isolated to any group, color, or ethnicity. He is just irresponsible. Being irresposible has no bounderies. Just love this kid as he has a clean slate and has done no wrong to anybody. Good day and Good night.

joe

joe, the bottom line is that I don't want to get attached to the baby because I am afraid he will be taken away, normally they give relatives the first chance, but I couldn't do it now. My son and other daughter are so screwed up, they could not make the right kind of home for him if they would even be willing to. My ex-husband doesn't like interracial relationships, so he will not help. He never did anyway. The only family member is my granddaughter who would be responsible and raise him right, she and I have talked about it, she's struggling to get through college and wanted to get married and have seven children of her own. I told her not to have seven children unless she could make a living by herself in case she has to raise them by herself. I also told her if she has that many children, statistically that before they become adults, at least one is likely to die in an accident, one is likely to have the mental illness gene which runs in both lines, one is likely to have a serious health issue that will require so much that the other children would be slighted. That is a modern reality, not even thinking about the kind of money you have to provide a nice life for that many children without government help.

As to my feelings, they are just there. We have no control over what we feel. We only have control over what we choose to do about the way we feel. I was raised in a family where my father was not prejudiced against anybody. I was not allowed to have stamps of Hitler in my stamp collection. I learned the n word from a neighbor girl, called the newspaperboy that, he came to the door and told my father, and I got one of the worst spankings in my life for it.

Fast forward to my teenage years in middle class, predominately white America in my part of the country, Yankee territory. There was a ratio of one black child to 30 white children in my elementary school and junior high, slightly more in high school; now the same school is predominately black and Hispanic.

When I became a teen, it was seldom talked about. Five of my old girlfriends got together a couple weeks ago. Not one of us would ever have dated outside of our race. It just wasn't done in white middle class America and still isn't if you haven't noticed, at least in my part of the country in intact, well functioning, affluent families, with very few exceptions.

As for biracial, they have two strikes against them. They don't know what race they belong to. Will he go back to the South Chicago ghetto housing project environment his father came out of or will he want the simple lower middle class lifestyle in the small home in a nice, relatively safe neighborhood his mother owns a house in and struggling to keep up the payments on? Doctors and therapists tell her to sell it. She could not rent an apartment for what she pays in a house payment and would have to move to a crummy neighborhood or government housing. She has a college degree and a Masters, was a teacher, but could not handle it emotionally, lost her job, cannot get disability from her accident that left her slightly handicapped. She has a brain injury and has had seizures. Will he get involved with gangs and drugs because he feels like he doesn't belong? Will the other children accept him in school (I know things are better now)? Will he get shot in a driveby shooting like the girl two weeks ago by my old childhood church? Will he do well in school with a father who is slightly retarded and probably can't read and write very well? What values will be instilled in him? The father's cousin came here, probably because there is better welfare in my state. The father was living with her and her boyfriend. She stabbed her livein boyfriend over a domestic dispute and is facing jail time. She is out on bail and the boyfriend is back. Back! After the father got out of jail Monday, they went to see them. My grandchild was in that home. My daughter was uncomfortable, he left to drink with his friends and she got mad. She wants to change him. That can't be done. You change yourself.

My granddaughter didn't know who it was, but she called me one night freaked out. Grandma, I have to get out of here. She lived in the same apartment building. She had just witnessed the man lying on the sidewalk in a pool of blood, police and ambulances, brought back an old trauma, and I helped her find another apartment, a brick duplex which probably isn't any better. She had three of her tires slashed, her ipod stolen. She and her boyfriend were paying their own way. She is living with her boyfriend because her mother made her life unbearable at home. Grandma bought her new tires and had to pay extra for the tow truck because they had to hoist the car up on a bed so she could get to work and survive. They can't live with me because my value system does not believe in the livein lifestyle, although I'm patient about it because that's the way it is now. Almost everybody does it.

The only person who ever comes to see me any more is black, very heavy, lived on welfare all her life, she doesn't know any other way. She raised four children on welfare. Fortunately they all turned out pretty good but one. Most of them treat her terrible, no respect. I wait on her and give her whatever I have cooked because she is always hungry. Sometimes I don't feel well, her visits mean I have to take her home because she doesn't drive. This summer it got so hot and her house is a total heat trap. We went through this last year, she needed a fan. They have a program, but she didn't get one. My daughter had an extra one and gave it to her. This year no fan again. I went down to the hardware store and put on my charge two commercial grade fans, one large one, and one small one, just like I have. She thanked me. I did it because, if I didn't, nobody else was going to and her wiring is so bad, she can't have air conditioners, couldn't afford the utility bills anyway. She could have gotten a free fan from some giveaway program. I decided forget it. She is always "borrowing" little bits of money from me and laundry soap, whatever. It is unspoken, but I know I will never be paid back. I don't expect it; it is not a condition of my odd friendship with her, but it gets annoying sometimes. But I am "privileged". I worked my tail off to raise my children by myself while she watched tv on welfare and gabbed with the neigbors. Her little girl got hurt, and the children called me to take her to the hospital. They finally found her mother. One time I got an urgent call for help. I went over, no social worker am I. Her daughter was working her tail off to support two small children by herself in what I can only call a shack which has since been condemned. Somehow the cupboards fell down in the kitchen and she came home from work to that. There was a big family fight over it. That's what I walked into. The daughter told me, "(my real name)", take the kids down to the police station. What? I didn't want to do that, that is serious, hopefully this would pass. I went in the bedroom where the children were huddled scared and just hugged them. Finally things became diffused, calmed down, and I went home in a state of shock. I hate social workers, won't go there.

Next week I will go to my monthly therapy. My therapist is Irish Catholic. She showed me photos of her grandchldren. They are beautiful. All little blondes and one redhead. We have talked about this. We will talk about it some more.

After the civil war, the blacks started coming north. One ancestor in Pennsylvania risked everything to help runaway slaves escape to Canada, he could have lost his farm, his means of making a living and jailtime. My great grandfather took in a freed slave as a farm hand. One of the relatives had brought him north after the civil war. They called him N... Joe. When it was time to eat, he took his food and went and sat in the corner. My great-grandfather told him he would eat at the table with the rest of the family. I wonder what would have happened if he would have wanted to marry one of the daughters. I will never know.

I feel sorry for my little grandson and what he will face in this cruel world. I can help with a little money, but money is not enough. I can give him love, patience and understanding. He will think grandma is odd because she likes photography and flowers, kids today like, you know what kids like today, things. The right tennis shoes. Love is sometimes not enough.

There is one aspect of this I must skirt around. Early on, the a word came up. My daughter was seriously tempted. I told her the child was innocent and I could not condone nor be a party to that, even knowing what it was likely to be like if allowed to be born.

I risk everything on my faith and value system. Do what you think is right, and even if it turns out bad, you did the best you knew. And do not beat yourself up because of what other people think of you or your flaws that are difficult to overcome.

I woke up crying this morning. Three years ago I was crying every morning, sometimes all day. I'm tired and emotionally exhausted. I can't respond like I should to the other posts, but appreciate the encouragement and thoughts expressed.

One thing I have learned in life. People critize others for feelings and being the way they are for things they would never do themselves. My therapist would have never dated a black person. I will ask her next Tuesday. I will ask her how she would feel if it was her daughter instead of mine.

Do I dare post this? Yes, I will post it and take the consequences whatever they be. Maybe I'll get kicked off the forum for it. This is an inflammatory issue.

Aliska sometimes I am sorry when I answer a post for fear of folks misunderstanding me, it is difficult to word things properly for everyone to understand. I am sorry if my remarking about your grandson has opened issues you would rather not open, I only meant my remarks in kindness. I do understand your pain in more ways than you could ever possibly know. Again though, thank you for sharing your story.

Valerie

Valerie, if folks misunderstand you, that is their problem. Don't worry about it. It is hard to communicate in writing when you can't talk face to face, and sometimes you say things that you read back and think I should have explained it better.

Do not worry about opening any old wounds. They have been wide open for a long time, nobody promised us a rose garden, we have to plant our own and get stuck with the thorns.

Whatever you are dealing with, I am with you. May you be blessed and may all your pain be turned into joy, I don't know how that can be but it sounds nice, and I certainly wish it for all of us. You sound like a wonderful person. The world can use more people like you.

First of all, I've been admiring all of the beautiful pictures in here for over a year, and appreciate them. Thank you all. I may post some of my own someday.

Secondly, Aliska, I am floored by your post regarding your grandson. I am in California, and the mulatto issue would not be a big deal. It's almost as if we live in different countries! I am native Californian, and yes, way back when extreme racism existed, but today an issue like a mulatto child is moot. So strange the US can be so different within itself.

Given the situation in your family adoption sounds like the most loving thing you all can do for the baby. If he's raised in an environment where the odds are stacked against him he will probably struggle for most of his life. What about an adoption where contact is allowed? Not all adoptions mean severing contact between the two families. Just a thought.

Good luck! What a heart breaking situation!

Things are different in the heartland than in California. I lived in California and know what it is like out there, couldn't wait to get out of there and back home, and that was back in the 60's, but not because of any bigotry except against us. I have trouble with out-of-wedlock births because of the era in which I grew up and how stigmatized it was then, don't want to mention the other issue again.

My granddaughter's father was adopted. They had everything. He killed himself two months before she was born. My daughter will not give the baby up for adoption unless it is taken from her. It is not my decision to make.

I don't want to talk about this any more and am truly sorry if I have offended anyone, wish I hadn't said anything at all ever here.

Aliska, I was only making an observation regarding the differences among our peoples in this country, not a judgment. It's amazing how we are from the same country, yet have so many differences, some for the better, others....(it's debatable). My husband is from Chicago, and once in a while we see things differently, makes life interesting. Too bad about your experience here, I wouldn't trade it myself. I guess it's in all what your used to.

Good for your daughter to step up. Love goes a long way with children. Many children come from affluent families, but are raised by nannies, and long for their parents attention. It's all relative (no pun intended).

Sounds like you've had a tough time! Hope you find some inner peace.

I had my first two children in California, we were military trash during the Vietnam War. Just a few of the locals were nice to us, we banded together to get through it. I know what it is like since then to be ostracized, looked down on, talked about, discriminated against (employment), rejected, falsely accused to child protective services, being stigmatized, marginalized, the whole nine yards.

I had a nervous breakdown over it after we got home. My hobbies, flowers and animal friends help me get through the dark days. And my sister has been a great source of comfort and support.