It was November 7, 1994.
I had just given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl; I named her Joanne James. It was a cold and ever-changing fall day when Joanne had entered my world, but her arrival had made the hospital room warm and joyous. I had delivered her alone, with no father for her or husband for myself by my side.
Pitiful huh? I was going to raise a baby on my own.
I had met Charles one night at the local bar, “Buddy’s.” The night had happened in the most typical way possible, there was no magical moment. We both he ordered drinks at the same time, and locked eyes. Truth be told, I had always been a lonely girl. Growing up my parents were more worried about their possessions than raising a child. So yes, I was emotionally deprived in more ways than one. I didn’t care for morals or values, actually, I didn’t know what it meant to live by morals or values.
By the end of the night, Charles had taken me back to his place and was screaming my name in every way possible, “Molly! Oh Molly! Yes!”
We hooked up, and that was that. Though he was charming with his blonde hair and enticing green eyes, I knew we’d never last. So, as he slept I had snuck out and went back to my apartment.
A few weeks later, I had found out I was pregnant. This was my chance, my only chance to try and undo what my parents did. I was going to love this child, and raise them to be the success I could never be.
As months went by and my belly grew, so did my excitement. I had felt a change within myself. I was happier and more confident than I ever was, that was until I gave birth to Joanne. Once I had taken Joanne home and got her settled, I felt as though a fire of anger had been lit inside of me. It took me weeks to realize why I felt this way, and then all of a sudden I had the answer.
I couldn’t stand to look at Joanne.
Her golden blonde hair and welcoming green eyes had reminded me of Charles. I was angry that he never tried to get in contact with me. I know it was me who left, but he had my number! What was it about me that he didn’t love?
The anger had become too much. One day, I took Joanne to the park to get some fresh air. As we sat on the park bench, I watched the perfect husbands and wives play with their picture perfect kids. My eyes had looked all over the park, and then I had seen her—the perfect baby who looked…
Just. Like. Me.
She had big and beautiful brown eyes, and brown hair that simply glistened in the sun. This child was destined to be mine.
What happened next was done on a whim, with no specific plans. I just went for the opportunity.
When her parents weren’t looking, I took this baby girl and walked out of the park, leaving Joanne behind. No one came chasing after me, I walked out free and with the child I wanted.
When I arrived home, I took the baby girl out of the stroller and looked into her eyes, and said,
“I shall name you Josephine, but I’ll call you Joey.”
It was quite uncanny that I gave Josephine the name I did, because shortly after I had taken her home, “Missing” signs were all over the place listing Joey as “Jade Simpson.” Good thing I changed her name, she didn’t look like a “Jade” at all.
I was extremely happy to have a child that looked like me, my little Joey was the child I was meant to raise and she’d never know the difference.