In a facebook chat room another adoptee asked the question about what happened to them between birth and their adoption. I was overwhelmed with the memory that came flooding back to me and the realisation of the implications of the incident I was remembering. The evening charge sister came into the ward and asked me how the baby had been during the day. I looked blankly at her and said I didn't have a baby in the ward. She rushed to the 'baby hiding place' and tended to the child. Between 5.30 am and 2.30 pm that baby had not been touched. It had not even had its basic needs attended to. The baby was a 'boarder' so not on the patient list. It was hidden in an obscure place. It was a newborn. The mother was not a patient in the hospital. During my shift the baby had not cried or made a sound. It was in shutdown, just as I had gone into shutdown in an orphanage 18 years earlier. The implications struck me with a force that has haunted me ever since. I'm sorry for your trauma and that I, an adoptee, was part of it.
In 1968 I was a young nurse. About two years ago I realised what had actually happened and put it in context.