I had been having a difficult time in my life. My as-yet undiagnosed bipolar was acting up, I'd just had my 23rd birthday that December and then my mother had died on Christmas Eve. The following week on New Years' Day my daughter was born. There I was a divorced mother of two young children and living on public assistance, looking for a job and trying to stay sane. Then the following summer, while my kids were with a friend, I was raped in the trees alongside the road as I was walking home from the grocery store. I was about at the end of my already frazzled rope. Later that same year, my ex-husband got wind of my precarious emotional state and he called the State Child Protective Services to pay me a visit at home. They came to my door and proceeded to tell me they would be willing to take care of my children for two or three weeks while I got myself together. DSHS' Child Protective Department also told me they would help me get to psychotherapy and child care classes. I was in such an emotional condition that I jumped at the chance. Did they deliver what they promised? NO. I should have known better but hindsight is 20/20. Then the day came that the CPS worker and the sheriff showed up at my door with legal papers in hand. I get up and answer the door. They came in, waved the papers in my face and announced that they were taking custody of the kids. I told them to let me see the papers. They had papers for my daughter but not my son. I told them to go to hell and come back when they had all the papers so they left. An hour later they come back with all the necessary papers and barge in my door without knocking as I'm nursing my daughter at my breast. "We have the papers now," they say. I pulled my son close to me as I continued to nurse his sister. The sheriff grabs him and forcibly pulls him away as he's screaming and crying, tears pouring down his little three year old face. The CPS case worker literally pulls my daughter from my nipple causing both her and me to scream. She cries out for her Mommy and she reaches for me, tears pouring down from her eyes. I was crying and rocking back and forth, repeating over and over, "No no no. Don't do this! Don't do this to me!!!" but they just walked out the door with my children. The following week, a friend told me to get a lawyer but I knew I couldn't afford one. I had no money. I was no longer getting public assistance as I no longer had custody of my children and I had not yet found a job. At that point I could almost swear I was having a nervous breakdown. I was so depressed I could not believe it. All I could do was cry but I had the sense to realize that I had to have some means of support so I worked out of my home as a laundress for local people. Looking back on that time in my life, I can say that my children were much loved by myself and others, they had a warm place to live, plenty of food, toys and clothes, they had regular check ups at the doctor and anything else they ever asked for or needed. The one thing we didn't have was large amounts of money, I was poor. I think the State was itching for those kids because they were healthy and didn't have any emotional or physical disabilities, they were considered highly adoptable and I was poor and easy prey because I couldn't afford a lawyer. That is how my children were taken from me. Of all the experiences I've had in my life, this was the most horrible, the most traumatic thing I have ever gone through. Although I was reunited with my children by chance when he was twelve years old and she was ten, for the intervening years I had no idea whether they were dead or alive, whether they were okay or not, I knew nothing. It was bigger than any other loss I have ever experienced in my life before or since and those are years I will never get back. Thank you State of Washington for NOTHING.