I am evidence of abuse

My existence, the life I led, was set in motion by an original trauma, intentionally inflicted on my real mother and myself. I learned that my real mother wanted to keep me but was dissuaded from doing so by her church in the final weeks before I was born. She’d worked overtime for months to buy baby supplies. And when she gave birth, she remained under gas mask anesthesia until she had signed the forms they demanded she sign.

Now you imagine signing legal documents, as a minor, under anesthesia, for something as life-altering as giving away your child because your parents and church demand it.

I do not believe that my adoptive parents were aware of the way I was acquired for them. I believe that they probably would not have accepted me if they knew what had been done to my real mother.

They certainly tried to be good parents, but they started from flawed assumptions and then continued to inflict damage through the guidance of their religious beliefs.

Now, with the benefit of knowledge, I can see how lies and dogma created a situation where my abuse was hidden, not only from them but also from my real mother, my real father, and the state of Idaho. The actions of a lawyer and his assistant, with the acknowledgement and cooperation of the surgeon, buttressed by the pomposity of not one but two pastors from two rival Baptist churches, who conspired to destroy the emotional well-being of my real mother, simply for daring to want to raise me as her son.

Published by

Jeffrey Wes Unruh

Adoptee, born at the Magic Valley Regional Medical Center, April 15, 1974. I spent 23 years trying to figure out all the details, concluding my search in 2019 after meeting my biological father. I'm working on a book that encapsulates my thoughts on adoption in general, and the experience of being adopted.