Almost the end of the year
One year ago yesterday was the date the case went back to minors for a second investigation. From what I understand, Barrios himself thought the signature was too "perfectly professional" to have been signed by an illiterate birth mother.
Those of you with illiterate birth mothers know what I mean by that. When Vicki was in process waiting for Lexi, we studied every document she got. (I had NO IDEA I'd be going the Guatemala route, since all we knew about Guatemala was babies and I didn't want to adopt a baby. At that point, I was still researching foster-adoption.) We saw the bmom's birth certificate and saw that she was 29. We commented that it seemed old to be relinquishing (which was funny, considering I was 34 and Vicki was 44, yet we were calling this woman "old" because of our American idea that only pregnant teenagers make an adoption plan). We studied her expression-less face in the DNA picture, observed the way she held the baby away from her body so she wouldn't feel the heartbeat. We translated all of the medical reports, every month, even the month Vicki had to call and specifically request it (can you imagine that, she got a medical report every month except one and then she DID get that one when she asked for it!). But the thing that stood out, that we still talk about to this day, is the relinquishment paper. The bmom didn't sign it, she put her thumbprint on it. Vicki talked about how sad it was, that the bmom was illiterate and couldn't sign her own name, how she wished the bmom would be getting some of the huge fees she paid the attorney (naive us, thinking the bmom didn't get any money, but maybe she really didn't). But it was the thumbprint that stood out.
I talked about how thumbprints were used to vote in Mexico. It was a matter of pride, Mexicans showed their thumbprint with the days-old traces of ink to prove that they were good citizens. I've seen that thumbprint on TV and in newspapers in the years since I saw it firsthand in Mexico.
Ingrid's bmom didn't use a thumbprint. She used a "perfectly professional" signature. It is possible that she could sign her name yet still be illiterate, but I don't think one could mistake a scribbled signature for a professional one.
September 29 is the date that the case went into the second investigation, that effectively ended my adoption process/joke. A week later, October 6, I was told by Adoption Supervisors that Ingrid couldn't be relinquished. I then waited over two months until Joanne told me that news. And then I waited for some restitution. I'm still waiting.
Those of you with illiterate birth mothers know what I mean by that. When Vicki was in process waiting for Lexi, we studied every document she got. (I had NO IDEA I'd be going the Guatemala route, since all we knew about Guatemala was babies and I didn't want to adopt a baby. At that point, I was still researching foster-adoption.) We saw the bmom's birth certificate and saw that she was 29. We commented that it seemed old to be relinquishing (which was funny, considering I was 34 and Vicki was 44, yet we were calling this woman "old" because of our American idea that only pregnant teenagers make an adoption plan). We studied her expression-less face in the DNA picture, observed the way she held the baby away from her body so she wouldn't feel the heartbeat. We translated all of the medical reports, every month, even the month Vicki had to call and specifically request it (can you imagine that, she got a medical report every month except one and then she DID get that one when she asked for it!). But the thing that stood out, that we still talk about to this day, is the relinquishment paper. The bmom didn't sign it, she put her thumbprint on it. Vicki talked about how sad it was, that the bmom was illiterate and couldn't sign her own name, how she wished the bmom would be getting some of the huge fees she paid the attorney (naive us, thinking the bmom didn't get any money, but maybe she really didn't). But it was the thumbprint that stood out.
I talked about how thumbprints were used to vote in Mexico. It was a matter of pride, Mexicans showed their thumbprint with the days-old traces of ink to prove that they were good citizens. I've seen that thumbprint on TV and in newspapers in the years since I saw it firsthand in Mexico.
Ingrid's bmom didn't use a thumbprint. She used a "perfectly professional" signature. It is possible that she could sign her name yet still be illiterate, but I don't think one could mistake a scribbled signature for a professional one.
September 29 is the date that the case went into the second investigation, that effectively ended my adoption process/joke. A week later, October 6, I was told by Adoption Supervisors that Ingrid couldn't be relinquished. I then waited over two months until Joanne told me that news. And then I waited for some restitution. I'm still waiting.
posted by Stacy @ 8:57 AM
1 Comments:
At 5:30 AM,
ale said…
I don't know if Mexico does it differently, but I think in many countries of Latin America the ink on your finger doesn't come from voting but from dipping your finger in indelible ink. It is done to make sure people don't vote twice. So everyone that votes get a stained finger.
Post a Comment
<< Home