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Monday, June 1, 2015
Though Conceived Through Step-Father Rape at Age 13, My Daughter is a Blessing by Cherie Miller
“I thought I was a broken person.” That’s what I explained to my husband just
after I told him my story.
I received a letter from my newly found daughter. She is married with two children. After several letters and conversations on
Facebook, we met in person in February, 2011.
Her parents and her husbands’ parents were amazingly supportive, encouraging,
and so incredibly open to including me in their lives. Words cannot express how thankful I am to
them! Perhaps my greatest gift was a
photo album Heidi gave to me when we met.
It included pictures of Heidi growing up, her wedding, and pictures of
my grandchildren. In the front cover was
a poem I’d never seen before and I was sobbing as I read it:
My mom married my stepfather while she was still pregnant
with me, so it wasn’t until years later that I found out he was not my
biological father. I never knew my
biological father -- it was a family secret, and to this day, I still don’t
know him. This family secret was not the
only one, but secrets can become normal for someone unless they are
revealed.
Growing up was “normal” for me, I thought. I have three younger brothers -- all who were born to my mother and
stepfather. We did the things families
normally do: camping, fishing, and celebrating
birthdays and holidays. We went to
movies, laughed together and enjoyed playing outside. We occasionally went to church. One
thing which wasn’t truly normal however, was the secret between me and my
stepfather. From as young as I can
remember, he sexually molested me. I
knew nothing different. As I said, I
thought it was normal. This was a secret
no one knew – a secret he told me I must keep, and I was too terrified to tell
anyone anyway. I’m guessing someone around
us may have suspected something, but we moved a lot -- five times by the time I
was in 7th grade.
This horrible secret went on for years and probably would
have never been completely revealed until one day when I started having
abdominal pain which got worse as the day went on. I told my mom and she brought me to the
doctor. At the age of thirteen, I was in labor, and I
was absolutely scared to death! I was
worried about mom and how devastating this would be for her to find out, and
fear of what would happen next. But
while in the hospital, no one asked me who the father was. Today, as a health care professional, this
would have been the first thing I would have asked, and I would not have wanted
a 13 year old mother to be sent home without knowing she was safe.
Now, as you all know, you must first be pregnant before
you can go into labor, right? Yes, I had
been pregnant for several months. I
remember feeling the baby move, but I was scared, and perhaps in denial. I was 13, and although my body was feeling
different, I really never showed.
Without showing, nobody asked any questions, and without questions, the
secret could continue, and I just lived it.
This was my “normal.” But going
into labor was the inconvenient truth nobody could keep covered.
My mom is an incredibly strong woman. I can’t imagine what was going through her mind
at that time, but she never left my side.
What pain must she have endured wondering who had done this to her
daughter? She later told me that her
immediate thought was that one of the fathers of the children I babysat did
this to me. My brother revealed to me
years later that he suspected what was going on because he saw his father going
into my room regularly, but he was young and scared as well.
I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. The first thing I remember is that I cried,
and I felt happy. There was this little
person laying on my belly, she was crying, I was looking at her, and I was in
awe that she was just so beautiful! When
I looked at her I didn’t see him, I didn’t see the crappy stuff that was going
on in my life – I didn’t see any of that.
I just saw her.
After being cleaned up, a nurse brought my daughter back
into the room again. It was late at
night and I couldn’t sleep because I was worried about her. I felt relief to see her again and to hold
her, knowing she was healthy. All I could think of was about the better life
I knew she was going to have. I didn’t want to bring her into my horrible
situation since I had no hope it would end.
Being only thirteen and in light of everything which I knew was to come,
I chose adoption for her. The heaviness in my heart was gone as I
thought of the good life she would have.
I thought life as “normal” would go on, and we quickly
just forgot everything. We did not speak about who did this to me. My baby went to a foster home while awaiting
placement with an adoptive family, and I returned to live with my brothers,
mother, and yes, even stepfather. The
lie continued, though my stepfather avoided me. Life
was going back to “normal.” However, the
truth was about to come out.
About a week after I went home, the social worker I was
assigned to at the hospital had my mom and me come to her office. At the social worker’s insistence, I told my
secret. I felt like I had crushed my mom’s heart! In my
mind, I had deceived her. In my mind, I
was destroying her marriage. In my mind, it was all my fault this was
happening. Amazingly, my mom believed me without doubt
and she supported me. I felt like a
thousand-pound brick was lifted off my shoulders! The healing could begin. However, because of everything that had
occurred, I requested to go to a foster home.
My request was granted.
I was placed in
foster care with wonderful people. My
stepfather was arrested. At trial, he
was convicted and sentenced to 90 days in jail with work release, and 15 years
of probation. That’s not much of a sentence. He got off easy in my mind. But he denied ever having intercourse with me
– never penetrating, claiming he masturbated and that I was somehow inseminated
that way. Preposterous, right? And yet, he apparently got away with that
story.
While I was in the foster home, my stepfather returned
home with my mom and brothers. My mom
was raised in a strong Catholic family, and was too ashamed to let her parents
know the dark secret. She’s also
struggled from a low self-esteem. I was
just glad to be out of there at the time.
We all started family counseling, and I personally went to
counseling. That was a real blessing for
me. I learned I could heal and maybe
become a whole person for the first time in my life.
After a year in foster care, I returned home. I had hopes that this would be a positive
turning point. I still had no idea that
he was not my biological father. Looking
back, I think the system was entirely screwed up that they would send me back
and is still in need of reform. All of
us lived together, including my stepfather, under one roof. “Normal” unfortunately had returned. It was difficult for me, but I was young and
I thought we could just move on. That
lasted about six months before my stepfather attempted molesting me again. I told a high school friend, who told her mom
who was a nurse, who then contacted the authorities. He was ordered to leave the home, but was not
arrested. My mom was angry and she finally
began standing up for herself, and for me.
They divorced, but no more jail time.
I was almost 16 at that time. My remaining teenage years were a
struggle. My mom was raising four
children alone. She worked multiple jobs
and received no child support. In public,
I felt like I was “that girl that was molested by her father” and everyone in
school and town knew it. It felt like it
was “stamped” on my forehead. It was
very hard for me. One thing I really
enjoyed in high school that did make me feel like I belonged was
cheerleading. My advisor was incredible
and I never felt like the outsider with her. I spent a lot of my teenage years trying to
get away from my past. I drank. I did things I shouldn’t have. I just wanted to forget and move on. The truth was painful and I just wanted to
find a new “normal.” But the truth of my
past always found me.
After high school, I joined the National Guard so I could
get away from those who knew, and hopefully get away from the memories as well. I did have positive people in my life who
continually encouraged me and stood by me.
But even with all the encouragement, as a young adult I was definitely
going down the wrong road. I had
unhealthy abusive relationships, including a failed marriage. I drank a lot of alcohol. I got to the point where I didn’t feel I was
worth anything better. I had gotten
pregnant once again. I now had a son and
I was only 21. It was just him and
me. I was determined to give him the
best life that I could, but we struggled at times.
At about the age of 25, I decided I needed better for
myself and I went to college. Looking
back, that was my turning point. I
finally was feeling I had found myself. The
more I went, the better and more confident I felt. I had numerous uplifting positive people in
my life. I eventually remarried and had
two more beautiful children. I received
my education as a nurse. Nursing was definitely something important and
rewarding to me. My career eventually
led me to a position as a health care educator. I got away from the unhealthy things in my
life with the help of more counseling. My
new normal was not perfect – unfortunately, I divorced once again, but things
were slowly getting better. Soon, things
were about to get much better.
In December 2010, my brother received a letter from the
county stating they were looking for me.
In my gut, I felt I knew it had something to do with my past. I was fearful, but also confident I could
take anything on now. I called the
agency and spoke with the county adoption advocate. She asked if I had a baby in 1983 and gave
her up for adoption. My heart was in my
throat. I was waiting for this day and
hoped at some point she would try to find me.
I thought about her all the time, wondered where she was, and what she
looked like. I prayed she had a great
family and was healthy and successful, without the struggles I had growing
up. I said yes. She said the young woman was looking for me!
One of my first questions was if she knew she was conceived in rape. The county advocate thought
she did in fact know. All sorts of
emotions came over me. Would she hate
me? Was this going to be good for
her? Was it good for me? How would this affect all of us?
I received a letter from my newly found daughter. She is married with two children. After several letters and conversations on
Facebook, we met in person in February, 2011.
Her parents and her husbands’ parents were amazingly supportive, encouraging,
and so incredibly open to including me in their lives. Words cannot express how thankful I am to
them! Perhaps my greatest gift was a
photo album Heidi gave to me when we met.
It included pictures of Heidi growing up, her wedding, and pictures of
my grandchildren. In the front cover was
a poem I’d never seen before and I was sobbing as I read it:
“Legacy of an adopted child”
Author unknown
Once
there were two women who never knew each other.
One
you do not remember, one you call Mother.
Two
different lives shaped to make you one.
One
became your guiding star; the other became your sun.
The
first one gave you life, and the second taught you to live it.
The
first gave you a need for love. The
second was there to give it.
One
gave you nationality. The other gave you
a name.
One
gave you talent. The other gave you aim.
One
gave you emotions. The other calmed your
fears.
One
saw your first sweet smile. The other
dried your tears.
One
sought for you a home that she could not provide.
The
other prayed for a child and her hope was not denied.
And
now you ask me, through your tears,
The
age-old question unanswered through the years.
Heredity
or environment, which are you a product of?
Neither,
my darling, Neither. Just two different
kinds of love.
Having Heidi back in my life, I could now say that my
“normal” was full and complete. I felt
like I was truly whole, and I still feel that way today. Though she lives a couple of hours away, I try to visit as often as I can. We see each other every couple of months on average and celebrate holidays and birthdays together. I'm so incredibly proud of Heidi! She's been accepting of knowing how she was conceived and still wanting to have a relationship with me. Her parents are incredible!
Forgiveness was
also something which had to happen. This
was hard. He is no longer a part of my
life, but I can say that I have forgiven him.
Without forgiveness, I don’t think I could have gotten to where I am
today. You have to choose in your life
if you will be bitter or if you will forgive.
I chose to forgive.
In June 2012, I remarried to the most amazing man I have
ever met! Tim is the one I talked about
in the beginning. My story never scared
him. He has never judged me. Tim encourages me,
challenges me, and loves
me completely. Here is a note my husband
wrote for me after I told him my story:
“It is difficult for me to separate a person from their
story. It is what has formed them. Our past and those who were an influence over
us shape our values and our character.
The good and bad in all of us are cultivated by our experiences. I would never wish on anyone what you had to
endure over the years. But this is your
story and I love you for it. You make me
better. You are the strongest woman I
have ever met and you are kind, compassionate, and very patient with
others. I wouldn’t want you any
different. Because of that, however
difficult your life may have been, I can accept it and be blessed by you
because of it. Looking at your life, I
can see that many people were placed there by God to take care of you during
difficult times. God bless you Cherie.”
I want my story to be one of hope and an understanding
that despite how difficult life can be, there is always a future. I believe God puts people in our lives to bless
us and to be blessed by us. We don’t
always know who or when, or for how long.
But my challenge to you is to never think you are alone and to never
give up hope.
BIO: Cherie Miller is a wife and mother of four
biological children, three step-children, and a birthmother to one. Her husband Tim Miller is a 100% pro-life Minnesota State House Representative, representing District 17A, having worked as a grant writer for Habitat for Humanity before becoming a state rep..
Cherie is a nurse, teaching health care at a local college, and a
blogger for Save The 1. As a birthmother from rape, she's hoping to mentor others through sharing her story.
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2 comments:
Cherie: God Bless You for your strength and resilience through the years. Having worked in Social Services many years, I and my staff were familiar with many of those life's circumstances that you experienced . You are truly a survivor! May God keep you and Tim in his graces and your wanting to share you story a positive message to others.
Cheri, what an amazing story of your life. I had a son who was conceived in rape, Without family support I gave him up for adoption and found him when he was 35. My story is here on save the 1. When my son met his half sisters, I sat a table with the four of them, and I could have sworn by their conversation, they had been raised in the same home.
May God continue to bless you and Tim. I was almost in tears as I read your story
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