Mother and child reunion

Eleven blogs in a row!

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, I was constantly in court trying to ensure that my ex-husband would not have custody of my daughters! The girls did not like it when forced to go to court with me. The Richard J. Daley building was a cold and uninviting place for children. The stark facade of steel and glass, with an interior of hard polished stone, which caused voices to carry and echo, and nowhere for children to play or be at ease, it was not a welcoming place. With the plethora of courtrooms up and down the hall, my children were required to remain quiet until the judge needed to speak with them—a challenging feat for any youngster. Everything about the experience was traumatic. I recall the ball of anxiety that would build up in my stomach, the emotional and physical pain I felt each time I waited for the courtroom doors to open. Although I knew that the custody decision was not up to me, I was worn out after months of testimony from doctors and specialists and still fretted over the outcome. The final decision was favorable but at such a high cost that I’m afraid it’s a pain that may never heal in my heart!