Never Satisfied: A New Orleans Tale

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

From the moment I took my first feeble breath, I discovered just how unfair the world could be.

Three months ahead of schedule and just shy of five pounds, my little lungs were barely able to function.

See my biological mother, whoever she was, cared so much about the innocent life growing inside of her that she refused to put down her pipe.

And to make matters worse, while her newborn baby was being whisked off to intensive care, she was plotting her escape! Within a matter of hours she was nowhere to be found and with a bogus address and name, there was no way to find her either.

I guess her love for crack meant that much more to her than to at least see if her baby girl made it.

But it all worked out because, after a few days in the hospital, the Harris' took me in and that was the best thing that could have ever happen to me.

My adopted parents loved me as if I were their own, rescuing me from a life of obscurity that I'm sure would have been my future. Caring for me when even my own flesh and blood didn't give a damn whether I lived or died.

I considered them to be my guardian angels and at every nightly prayer session, I would thank God for blessing me with them.

My mom was a very compassionate and devoted woman in her mid-forty's and to me she resembled perfection. She had a very fair complexion, radiant ocean blue eyes, silky golden tresses that cascaded down her shoulders, and a figure that most females her age wished they possessed.

My father wasn't too bad looking either with his stout physique, perfectly sun-kissed skin and piercingly emerald eyes. His auburn hair was always cut short and neat, making it almost impossible to tell that he was about eight years older than his wife.

Mr. and Mrs. Harris' lifestyle wasn't anything near lavish, however they did well for themselves both being college professors, they resided in a very spacious three-bedroom bungalow complete with a picket fence and a little Boston terrier rummaging around in the backyard.

What they built together was nearly perfect except for the one thing that, despite how hard they tried, they couldn't conceive a child.

It had been a four or five year struggle to no avail, so they eventually came to grips with their fate and decided that adoption would be more feasible.

After about two years of being on the waiting list, they realized that too wasn't the answer and maybe having a child wasn't in the cards for the Harris Family.

But when they received a call about a four-day-old infant who was abandoned at a hospital and in need of love and a place to call home, they rushed to Human Services. The family that they so desperately longed for, they could now have.

You couldn't have picked a better ending for such a tragic beginning right?

It wasn't until they picked me up that the social worker explained to them my condition, but at that time their hearts were already set after they took me into their arms and saw the spurned, yet wistful look in my moon shaped eyes. There was no turning back.

I was their first child so that was a challenge in itself, but my ailment made it ten times harder. As an infant I would have these horrible crying spells that were damn near impossible to soothe and I hardly ever slept.

Caring for me had gotten so bad that my mom resigned from her position as an educator and made caring for me for her full time job.

Like me, she had become irritable, lethargic and desolate.

"Will, take her. I don't know what to do to make her stop crying!" She yelled at my dad as he walked through the door just after making it home from work.