Agnes Marie (Burden) Bernard (1955 - 2004)

My first child, Stacy Marie Mitchell(1988-1990)

This was my first child. I was only 15 when I got pregnant with her. Yes, she was in many ways a planned birth, even at 15 I knew what, for the most part at least, what I wanted in life. I knew I only wanted a few children, I didn't want to be like my mother and still be raising children over 40. I knew I didn't want to be tired and worn out and not be able to play with my kids or grandkids for that matter.

One of the funny things about my pregnacy was that I didn't tell my mother I was pregnant at first. Yes, I tried to convince her it was immaculate conception. Didn't work, but I did try it. The foods I craved during the pregnancy was Dr Pepper, chocolate ice cream and pickles, in that order at the same time. I had also craved fried rabbit as well, however, Stacy decided that she DIDN'T like rabbit and I got sick, never ate it again during pregnacy. We had two fruit trees in our yard that summer as well, one peach and one kiwi. I had fresh peaches with cream almost every day.

I had spent many years in the hospital as a child, so when I found out I was pregnant, I personnally chose to have a home birth. Yes, unusual for such a young person. In the area I was living I had the choice of whether or not to have a "lay" midwife, meaning a midwife that was not a nurse or professional medical person. I chose the midwife myself. She was supposed to be born at our home on the outskirts of town, however, my step grandfather at the time, Frank Campbell's father, had talked my stepfather into us staying at his house in town. For multiple reasons, one of which was Thanksgiving was coming up close to when she was due. She also happened to be 2 weeks overdue. Everyone in the town I was living in knew about my medical issues resulting from a car accident years before. When I went into labor with Stacy, the midwife also had an ambulance on standby outside the house and a careflight on standby at the local hospital in case Stacy had problems and needed to be sent to Dallas just in case. None of tha was needed thankfully.

From the time I went into labor with her, I ate reg food and fluids, whatever I wanted. My brothers got sent to school that day even though they wanted to stay at home for the birth. They loved her from the very start. At the same time she was born, each of my brothers had "sympathetic" labor reactions. Jr and Donnie were hugging the porcelin god and Chris had cramps. Gotta love my brothers.

After she was born, I was trying to breastfeed, however my milk didn't come in until sometime the next day, which was Thanksgiving and also why Stacy's first meal in life was mashed pot and gravy from the dinner table, thanks to my mother.

I breastfed and bottle fed during her first year of life. One of her favorite foods was mayonaise sandwiches which she tended to eat with her papa. Another thing with her was that she had acid reflux, which we didn't know at the time, so she pretty much had pepto bismal every day during her first year of life.

She was very spoiled from the get go. I was still in high school at the time. She pretty much got what she wanted when she wanted it, always. If she said she wanted candy, every person within earshot went to the store and brought back whatever we thought she wanted to eat. She got these cheap bouncy balls from walmart, they were like a buck at the time, she bounced on them and when she wanted a new one she just popped it and went to mema and said need new ball. she got a new ball...lol

One evening I had been cooking in the crappy kitchen of the house we lived in at the time, and fortunately, I had asked my step father to keep a hold of Stacy while I poured some wanter into the sink, it had been boiling on the stove at the time. As I was pouring it into the sink, the sink edge, cheap crappy wood, collapsed and poured the entire pot of boiling water all down on my feet. thankfully, Stacy wasn't there for once. I ended up with 3rd degree burns from my ankles and feet, I couldn't even grow hair on my feet for many many years afterward.

My mother bought her a pair of dress shoes with taps on them once, and that was it for Stacy. Every pair of shoes she had absolutely had to have taps on them after that, which I made sure mom knew she was paying for, and she did. Stacy loved to wear her dresses, among other things, and she wasn't a girly girl either. She'd put on her dress, then later on that day, in said dress, be outside playing in the mud.

Since I was in school still, that means like all other teenage girls, I got up early to get ready for the day, like at 5 am. Stacy would get up with me and we'd get dressed and put on our makeup and do our hair too. This was an every morning ritual for us. After she died, I was no longer a morning person, even to this day I'm not.

Many months before she passed away, Stacy drew on the living room wall, even though she knew better. When Mema asked her why she did it, Stacy straight up told her Unca Junor dood it. When Jr got home, no warning at all, mom started reaming him for drawing on the wall. He had that deer in the headlights look, so funny. So, mom is jumping all over him, and Stacy out of the blue said, Mema unca Junor no dood it. Mema goes, well if he didn't who did? I dood it MeMa, Stacy said. None of us could keep a serious look on our faces, we all busted out laughing. We had her scrubbing that wall for awhile, then the next day we went out and got some paint and painted over it so she'd think she had washed it off.

Her first little shoes were these cute little patent leather dress shoes. She absolutely loved her shoes. She had patent leather shoes, hightop tennis shoes, and her little pink "sit" kickers. And yes, like any other texas girl, she was known to wear her "sit" kickers with her dresses along with her shorts, it didn't matter whether or not they matched, if she wanted to wear them, that's what she wore. She definately had her own style and her own mind.

One time, my mother had tried to do the decent thing for my child since her father never tried to see her or anything. His father seen her once, and one of his sisters, but not him or his mother. So, my mother took her over to His mother's house to let her see Stacy at least once. The woman didn't want to see Stacy, all she did the entire time was verbally abuse me to my mother, who promptly told her off and left. That woman was never given another chance to see Stacy again.

Stacy was scared of bugs, specifically crickets. My brothers were notorious for getting crickets and chasing her around the house with one. So, we call them "Macy" bugs.

Before my Jr year of highschool, I had to get the money I needed for a tech class I wanted to take. On a suggestion of a family friend, Stacy and I went out to seven points with him and his boss to the drag races. The Boss kept drinking and he'd "bet" on the races with Stacy. Obviously, he kept losing, either on purpose or not, doesn't matter, we both had a great time and so did our friends Boss. It was noted later that he said that was one of the best times he'd had in a long time.

I was and still am for that matter, a voracious reader. A couple times a week I'd pack Stacy up in her stroller and she and I would be off to the library. I'd walk her across town to get several books for her and myself for a few days. When it was time to take them back, off we'd go again back to the library. We'd read everything from children's books to star trek star wars and many other types of books.

My mother absolutely loved to fish. She'd take Stacy with her too. They always caught some fish, and Stacy would always manage to "catch" the biggest and most fish...lol

We had this boxer mixed dog at the time. my parents were big into rescue dogs, that was chained up outside near the front door. He was known to be a "pregidous" dog. yes, apparently he had been mistreated in the past by an african american owner, not too important aside from the fact that any other child could come around him except african american children. The reason I mention this is the fact that apparently, Stacy decided that was HER dog. We had warned our friends and even our neighbor kids about this little issue about this dog. However, the neighbor kids had seen Stacy often go up to this dog and be kinda rough with him, normal for toddlers. So the kids started teasing and taunting him. One day one of the kids had gotten within the reach of his chain and the dog, having enough of these kids teasing him, took a bite out of the kid. The cops were called, the situation explained, the parents were ok with it, after all their kids deserved what they got for messing with the dog. However, since he did bite the child, we had to isolate him, keep him away from others until the law could make sure he didn't have rabies or something, even though we had proof that he had had his shots. Stacy was very upset because she couldn't play with her dog.

I was only a few months shy of being 17 at the time, so I decided to move in with my boyfriend at the time. Just before school started my senior year. Mom kept Stacy until I got my house settled then I was supposed to bring her home. Well, the day before she died, mom and frank were supposed to bring her to me after work, mom and I worked at the same place. Me evenings and her days. Well, they didn't bring her, and my boyfriend told me we'd pick her up the next day after I got out of work. The next day, after I got out of school, I called her and talked to her as usual. Mom was still at work because she wasnt finished with her inventory counts, so she talked to her as well. We had made plans for her to met me after I got off work to pick up Stacy. My brothers Jr and Chris were at home with Stacy babysitting until my mother got home. Jr, being a yr younger than me, was responsible for her. Chris was in the living room watching tv at the time. Stacy decided she wanted to go swimming. Jr told her that he'd take her swimming. (my mother and I had gotten one of those round metal watering tanks that you see out in the fields to water cows) We had also bought her a life vest which she knew she was supposed to wear whenever she went swimming. Jr had to use the restroom first, so he stood her outside the bathroom door and told her to stay there until he came out then theyd go swimming. She decided not to wait. When Jr came out, she wasn't there, and he went looking for her. when he got to the kitchen, he noticed the back door had been opened and unblocked. He went outside and found the lifevest on the ground where she'd tried to put it on and couldn't. she had climbed into the pool. she had lost her footing (the pool was due to be cleaned out but hadn't been yet) and Jr found her in the pool. He had pulled her out and stripped her and tried to do cpr as we had been taught in cpr class. He wasn't sucessful.

chris had called mom and I at work, and we met the ambulance at the er. The last time I held my baby girl, aside from her being still and cold, the thing I remember most was the smell. My baby girl smelled like soured dirt.

On the night before she was buried, we had a wake and that was the first and only time her father ever even tried to see her. I was in no frame of mind and all I thought of was that he was going to take my baby away from me. If it hadn't been for my boyfriend at the time, I'd have pulled my child out of the casket to keep him from her. That was the frame of mind I was in at the time.

Lisa

My "Silence of the Lambs"

Posted 09 Jun 2018 by lisa valdez

I was raised mostly out in the country on farms. A person tends to get a more "natural" education that way. Life, death, where your food comes from and how it's procured. As a young child, can't really remember my age, but definitely before I started school, we had some hispanic neighbors. It was some holiday, don't really remember which one, but assuming 4th of July or Memorial day, as there was an upcoming cookout. So, like all little girls I loved small animals. Our neighbors had either a baby goat or sheep. I believe momma said it was a lamb though. So, these neighbors butchered this lamb. I do remember flipping out and being very distraught over it. Mom said I had nightmares for weeks with lambs screaming and crying. Mom had no idea previously that was gonna happen, she just had to deal with the aftermath. It took awhile for me to get over it, which is one of the biggest reasons I've always made sure mine kids KNEW that some animals are not pets but food so they wouldn't get to attached to them like a pet. I still to this day occasionally dream of hearing that little lamb.

Lisa Mitchell Valdez

Our Experience In Foster Care

Posted 09 Feb 2018 by lisa valdez

Our mother (Agnes) and Father (Edgar,Sr) had split up in roughly 1976, after our brother Donnie was concieved, and she took both of her children with her. We had dissappeared out of Dad's life. Donnie was born and later we had been blessed with our brother Chris. Mom married the man who was Chris's biological father. In about 1978 or 1979, we had been living on a Dairy farm. Mom and her husband worked there every day to provide for us. When winter came, Mom had gotten pnuemonia and had to be admitted to the hospital. This left Mom's husband alone with us kids, all four of us. He still had to work, but he didn't have someone to watch us when he worked. So this left us alone to our own devices. I do not remember what age we were when this happened, but one evening our youngest brother, Chris, had gotten into a bag of seven dust that they had kept, for some unknown reason, on our back porch. It was a closed in porch so we didn't have any problems going there to play and whatnot. Well, he had it all over him, in his mouth and eyes and breathed it in. He was (and still is for that matter) allergic, serverly allergic I might add, to seven dust and seven dust products. I do not remember how or who discovered what had happened, but I'm pretty sure it was either that Chris's dad came in from work and seen what had happened or one of us realized that he was having a hard time breathing and ran to the milk barn to get him. Regardless, Chris was taken to the ER, and somebody called cps, and we were taken away from mom. Remember, at the time, Mom was still in the hospital herself. So, chris and Donnie was taken and placed in one foster home and Myself and JR was placed in another. Now, all of our lives we had thought when this happened it was in Oklahoma, but it was and wasn't. I've recently found out from a family member that we had been placed in a foster home in Paris, Tx, but the cps office for that area at the time was located in Lindsey, Oklahoma, which explains the oklahoma link. I don't remember alot about that time, I don't even remember going to school and I know we had to be. I don't know where chris and donnie had been placed. Mom got them back as she was married and living with her husband at the time. But, Jr and I had been placed with a dentist and his wife. I do remember that, esp since I specifically remember going to the Foster father's office to have my teeth looked at. At the end of the check up, he had given me that nasty mouth rinse that all dentists give you, and he did say to swish and spit it out, absolutely not to swallow it. Well, apparently I did swallow some and got an upset tummy. He had took me into his office so I could lay down on this soft, beautiful leather couch in there. I ended up getting sick, as in vomitting all over myself and the couch. Other than that, I don't remember much of being there. Cps had gotten a hold of my father and his sister(oma lee walker) and her husband loaned him the money to get a lawyer and took him from elk city, Oklahoma to Paris,tx to get us. Apparently, some kind of trauma happened during our stay there. I had been completely potty trained before this happened, but I've been told that I had started wetting the bed again. Sucked alot. This is when Jr and I went to live with dad. Donnie and Chris went back to Mom at this time.

Nicknames are not usually something that you give yourself. They are generally given to you by someone for a specific reason both good and bad. Mom had always told me her nickname growing up was Penny. I never knew the who or why. One of her sisters kindly told me that my mother was named after her Aunt Agnes. It is this Aunt that I think gave her the nickname, and as such may have been the very one who raised her until she was around 9-10 when she moved with her mother.