I have never done anything like this before.  I have never been in a desperate situation where I am in a soundproof bubble, and the system doesn’t hear my cries.  They see me, but they pretend I am not there.  This is the Michigan Family Law and Friend of the Court Division.  It is our system; the one we are suppose to count on for freedom, justice, and liberty. It is my prayer that you read through to the end. Although this is my hell and my grief, this story must be heard.  Please feel free to leave comments and post the story in to your blogs and various social media venues. It is imperative that we use our voices; otherwise, this will continue to happen to mothers who don’t deserve it. It must climb up the political ladder and on to the steps of the Supreme Court. I can not get there alone.

I am a wife and mother of four amazing children. We are an American white collar, middle-class family. I am so fortunate and thankful that we own a beautiful 2,500 square foot home that backs up to the 4th green of a prestigious golf course. I wasn’t always of this status, most people aren’t.  We start somewhere, and then gradually improve ourselves with the combination of time, effort & experiences. I consider myself ordinary. I, like most of you, have experienced meaningful relationships.  I’ve been hurt.  I’ve failed and given up on things. I’ve traveled extensively, I’ve gone to college.  I am a deep thinker, a reader, and I am gentle. I love nature and respect its wrath.  I am not religious, but am deeply spiritual. I am passionate about loving and caring for my children. I am always searching….searching for truth, for mindfulness, for authenticity. I am searching for the path that will ultimately be the “dash”….you know, that little mark on a gravestone that is between the day you were born and the day you passed….that’s the dash I am referring to.

I would ask, are you much the same? Probably. I am thankful that we can redeem ourselves throughout our lifetime; to make better decisions, to course-correct, and to leave a footprint that we can be proud of.

So, why am I writing about custody injustices? I suppose it’s time to get on with it already:

On January 22, 2009, I lost custody of my 9 year old daughter; the oldest of four. I didn’t lose custody because of abuse, or because of illness, or because I was unwilling to care for her. I didn’t lose custody because of drugs or alcohol, or because of a lack of interest and participation in her social and educational needs. I didn’t lose custody because I couldn’t provide her with clothing, food, housing, or emotional support.  I lost her because of an incompetent court system with which accountability to a higher court or official is unlikely. Records are so tightly sealed in the Michigan Family Court System, that the likelihood of reprimand and justice is as likely as the sky turning yellow tomorrow.

I was under the disillusionment that a mother who is unfit or unwilling to parent could lose custody of a child. I never dreamed that a mother who was competent, loving, stable, and willing could.

I solely raised my daughter and was completely alone during my pregnancy. Her father and I parted ways because he had some severe addictions to overcome and I didn’t want any part of it. When I told him about the pregnancy (which was right away), he denied responsibility.  He began accusing me of being promiscuous. His parents and sister were unaware of his addictions, and they too began to propose that the baby wasn’t his. Over the next several months, I began to look inside of myself and had to make some pretty grown-up decisions.

I moved back to Michigan with my family when I was 34 weeks gestation.  I felt that it was the best thing I could do for myself and my unborn child.  I would be in a safe, moral, and loving home, receiving unconditional support.  Love and support is what I needed, and I wasn’t getting it in Indiana. My unborn child’s father was still backing out of the responsibility and I came to accept that we would be alone.  I was about to embark upon “single parenthood”, a journey that would shape me in to the person I longed to be, a journey that would be so treacherous at times, it would test my endurance down to the nucleus of my being. Even so, I was ready to take it on.

I never married her father. After my daughter was born, I re-met a man I knew when I was a child and got pregnant again.  I was on birth control when this happened and was devastated to be in this situation again. I married this man 7 months later, had yet another child and we divorced when our youngest was 2. If I don’t have you disgusted by now, it gets worse. I got pregnant again with someone who became the love of my life, before our divorces were final. O