Cristina, 50
Submitted Feb 24, 2007
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Cristina has never met her father |
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Cristina's father is dead |
I was born in Stockholm, Sweden in october 1956 at a home for young unwedded mothers. My mother was locked in together with other young mothers. This is how the system worked in the 50Â's in Sweden. The young pregnant motherÂ's were treated as if they had committed a crime, they were locked up in special homes placed way out in the countrysides. This made it difficult for them to escape, my mother tried while she was still pregnant with me, she fled, and was brought back by the police. They tracked her down in the forest with the help of dogs.
One morning when I was 6 months old, my mother was locked inside her room, she was confused over what was going on, after some time, some people from the social child protection agency entered the room with me all dressed up. They told her to say goodbye to me, her daughter, they said you will never see her again.
I was placed in an orphanage. After a while, my mother was released and tried to find me, each time she succeded, they moved me into another orpahnage, This happend 5 times. During this time, my father denied that he was the father. A bloodtest was taken. And the result showed that I was my fatherÂ's daughter,
Finally, at the age of 1½, I was placed in a fosterhome in Southern Sweden, in which my mother also found me when I was 6 years old. After meeting me she felt that she had to let me go since this had beome my home now. I stayed with my foster-parents, not knowing that they were not my real parents, but I always had a special feeling about it. My biological father was in contact with my biological mother frequently during all these years, asking questions about me, but never made any attempt to contact me. I never grew up with my mother, The first time I was awarw of that she was my mother was when I was 15 years old. Today we are close and keep in touch with each other daily by telephone.
As a baby I lost both of my parents. due to the decision of the swedish authorities about my future.
My whole life I have been thinking about him and waiting... when I finally, made the decision by myself, I tracked him down in 1986, He died just some time after that, so I never got the chance to meet him.
Sometimes I think about him, that he had 30 years of thinking about how to connect to me, and that he never did. The only thing I got from him was a letter with a picture of him inside and a bouquet of red roses.
One morning when I was 6 months old, my mother was locked inside her room, she was confused over what was going on, after some time, some people from the social child protection agency entered the room with me all dressed up. They told her to say goodbye to me, her daughter, they said you will never see her again.
I was placed in an orphanage. After a while, my mother was released and tried to find me, each time she succeded, they moved me into another orpahnage, This happend 5 times. During this time, my father denied that he was the father. A bloodtest was taken. And the result showed that I was my fatherÂ's daughter,
Finally, at the age of 1½, I was placed in a fosterhome in Southern Sweden, in which my mother also found me when I was 6 years old. After meeting me she felt that she had to let me go since this had beome my home now. I stayed with my foster-parents, not knowing that they were not my real parents, but I always had a special feeling about it. My biological father was in contact with my biological mother frequently during all these years, asking questions about me, but never made any attempt to contact me. I never grew up with my mother, The first time I was awarw of that she was my mother was when I was 15 years old. Today we are close and keep in touch with each other daily by telephone.
As a baby I lost both of my parents. due to the decision of the swedish authorities about my future.
My whole life I have been thinking about him and waiting... when I finally, made the decision by myself, I tracked him down in 1986, He died just some time after that, so I never got the chance to meet him.
Sometimes I think about him, that he had 30 years of thinking about how to connect to me, and that he never did. The only thing I got from him was a letter with a picture of him inside and a bouquet of red roses.
