Scheme has 'triggered more trauma' for mother and baby homes survivors

Digging up painful memories in order to qualify for an 'insulting' payment

Chrissie Tully, 91, from Loughrea, Co Galway, with her son Patrick Naughton. They were reunited a decade ago. Picture: Hany Marzouk

It was meant to be the redress scheme that would help to heal some of the wounds endured by those forced into mother and baby homes, but instead it has caused a furious backlash from survivors.

Last year, Children's Minister Roderic O’Gorman announced the biggest compensation package in the history of the State, amounting to an estimated €800m, would roll out this year.

As many as 68,000 people went through the religious-run mother and baby homes, suffering the worst cruelty imaginable — women’s babies were forcibly taken from them and adopted. Many remain separated to this day.

Up to 9,000 children died in institutions all across the country in appalling conditions.

The redress scheme is part of an overall acknowledgement of the suffering endured by those who were incarcerated in the institutions.

But three mothers who never saw their children again after they were taken away, told the Irish Examiner the scheme has done nothing but trigger their trauma.

Christina 'Chrissie' Tully is 91 years old and from Loughrea, Co Galway. She had two baby boys out of wedlock as a young teenager.

The shame of being an unmarried mother in her hometown resulted in her parents sending her to the nearby Tuam mother and baby home twice.

Her first baby was stillborn when he arrived on December 13, 1949, after a “difficult breech delivery” at the then Galway Central hospital when Chrissie was 18 years old.

It is believed the child is buried in the septic tank in Tuam that is awaiting excavation, because no trace of his remains could be found in the adjoining cemetery, or in the hospital and no one can give Chrissie a straight answer.

There is one record she received under Freedom of Information that states "return to Tuam home" after the child died. 

Chrissie’s second son Patrick Naughton was born five years later and adopted by a family in Galway, who later moved to London. Both mother and son reunited over a decade ago and remain close.

Chrissie Tully: 'All this talk of money and redress, it just brings it all up and drags it all out. The shame, the horror and all that awful stuff, over two babies. Imagine, all this because of beautiful babies and no husband.'

Chrissie kept her babies a secret for most of her life, only recently deciding enough was enough, having prayed for the soul of her little boy, whom she called Michael, all her life. She never married and has no other children. 

She told the Irish Examiner: “Not one eye would close at night, without me saying the rosary for him. I accepted it, he died and was taken away. You wouldn’t challenge those doctors, you just did as you were told.

“The pregnancy was awful, he was breech, and I am a tiny woman, but he arrived and was taken away. I was told ‘he’s gone’. That’s it, that’s all that was said. I couldn’t see him, hold him, nothing. I would have liked to take him home and bury him.

“I remember it like it was yesterday, my child with no face, because I never saw his face and never touched or held him. I don’t know where he is or what happened to him.

“All this talk of money and redress, it just brings it all up and drags it all out. The shame, the horror and all that awful stuff, over two babies. Imagine, all this because of beautiful babies and no husband. 

"All I want now before I die is to find my son. He has me and he has his brother Patrick. But I’m 91 and I’m not well."

Chrissie recalled how two gardaí came to her house in Loughrea during her second pregnancy and brought her to the local barracks to meet a judge.

“He said if I didn’t tell him who the father of my children were, he’d lock me up. That’s as true as I’m standing here. I told him to go ahead so. When I came back from Tuam, he died. I think what he did to me weighed heavily on him.

“My son asked Minster Roderic O’Gorman to come and see me as I’m more or less housebound, but he never did. I’d rather talk to someone in charge than get money. It’s upsetting, that is all it is. 

It’s just bringing it all back up again when no amount of money will ever compensate me for having my two children taken away, being threatened by the gardaí and a judge, shamed in my town and never finding my little Michael.

"I barely have any time left to find Michael. Speaking up is all I can do now. Legislation to take babies out of a grave that are lying there for decades is just a load of nonsense. They own the land — dig it up and get my son out of there please”.

Chrissie does not know how long she was in the Tuam mother and baby home with her two baby boys.

Under the redress scheme, she is entitled to €10,000 for between 90 and 179 days, with a work-related payment of €1,500.

She believes she may have been in the home in total for two years, which would bring her payments up to €15,000, with a €6,000 payment for working there.

“I’m entitled, it seems, to around €15,500 for having two babies taken off me and working my fingers to the bone. There is no price for trauma and this money is disgusting and an insult”.

Filumena Quinn, 69, gave birth to her first child, a boy, in Bessborough mother and baby home in 1972 when she was 17 years old.

The antiques dealer claimed she was regularly given phenobarbitone in the home, which belongs to the barbiturates group of medication.

Filumena, who is originally from Galway City, but has been living in Mayo for 25 years, was sent to Bessborough after she had “shamed” her family by falling pregnant as a teenager.

She had met a man from the North who was working as an electrician in Galway at the time — a year later she was pregnant with his child.

She said: “A Franciscan friar brought me to Bessborough. He was very kind to me”.

A brave teenager, Filumena said she always spoke back to the nuns and as punishment for her behaviour, the nuns put her in charge of washing nappies and cleaning the church, and she believes the heavy manual work caused her son to be born prematurely.

“I was in awful pain and I was bleeding very heavily. The nuns refused to wake the midwife up out of her bed. It was midnight and I thought I was going to die with the pain.

“I didn’t get any pain relief, I thought I’d die with the pain, I was bleeding all night.

“I was still in labour at 8am and the nuns eventually woke the midwife. I remember being in this awful room, me and another girl who was in labour. The two of us were lying there, the other girl was in agony because she had a kidney infection. 

I always remember the nuns hit her in the stomach and told her to shut up. I will never forget that image, it made me sick.

“My son Ian was born in the home on September 14, 1972, and the minute he was born the nuns panicked because they had no incubator. He was just so tiny. I never got to hold him, they just took him away. He spent three months in St Finbarr's and I was not allowed to visit him or leave Bessborough”.

Filumena was eventually reunited with her son Ian, but an adoptive family was found for him soon after his return to Bessborough and she was given papers to sign.

“You’re in so much shock, away from home, dazed and confused and I just remember a nun picking him up and saying ‘why would anyone want such a small baby?’."

Filumena went on to get married when she was 30 but has since divorced. She has two other children.

When she looked for her son through social workers, she found out he had died tragically.

His remains had been washed up on the beach at Salthill on June 21, 1994, and were found by a passer-by. His name was now Kevin and he had been missing since April 28 that year.

In an inquest report dated June, 22, 1994, Kevin’s cause of death was “undetermined” but there was no evidence of “injury, shooting or any interference”.

Filumena Quinn: 'My son was taken from me, and I was drugged up to the eyeballs. I don’t want money, I am nearly 70 and I’m left with more questions than answers. I have no son, he’s gone and we never met.' Picture: Karen Cox

His date of death could not be precisely stated but the inquest found it was after April 26, 1994. His adoptive sister said in her statement she had last seen him in a pub in Galway on April 28 and she said he was in “good form”. 

She said he left and came back 10 minutes later and “appeared to be very upset”. She said he gave her his Walkman and his tapes which she found strange because he never let anyone near his Walkman.

He said he would be back for the Walkman but that was the last time she saw him and she reported him missing on May 19, 1994.

Filumena said she has watched the reports about the mother and baby homes and all it does is “insult” her.

“My son was taken from me, and I was drugged up to the eyeballs. I don’t want money, I am nearly 70 and I’m left with more questions than answers. I have no son, he’s gone and we never met," she said. 

"The pain this brings up for me, and I would imagine most survivors is just awful. The drip-feeding that is going on, the delays, the constant battling in the Dáil when really nothing is being done, we’ve received an awful apology and babies remain in mass graves unaccounted for and my son is dead, that’s all that is happening for me. 

I don’t care about money, I want my son and he’s gone. The trauma this whole thing has brought up for me is horrific. We have a Government who can’t seem to deal with anything right."

Filumena is also entitled to about €10,000, but believes she was in Bessborough for more a year, meaning her payment would be €12,600 and €3,000 for a work-related payment.

“I could have been in there for longer, I don’t know, but having to look these things up and having to prove that you were made work in these places is just shocking. My son was taken from me and he died. What use is this to me, it’s like being hit in the face,” she said.

Sharon McGuigan, 53, was admitted to Dunboyne mother and baby home in November 1985.

She was 16 years old and five months’ pregnant when she was dropped at a bus station in Monaghan town, from where a bus would take her to the mother and baby home in nearby Co Meath. 

The teenager was raped by a married man twice her age who had groomed her for months while she was struggling at home with her parents.

The then Intermediate [Junior] Cert student was sent to Dunboyne to have her baby and was not allowed to bring her home.

Sharon, who had three children [her eldest was adopted], still suffers from depression and anxiety after being forced to give up her child.

“I’ve learned through counselling that the damage I suffered has a lot to do with how I see myself.

Not enough time is given to highlight the grooming process. I was groomed by this man who is now in his 70s and couldn’t care less about the destruction he caused me.

“It is me who suffered the most, and I spent 20 years in counselling over it all”.

Sharon was brought to the National Maternity Hospital in Dublin, where she gave birth to her daughter on February 21, 1986.

“My daughter was a month premature and was put in intensive care. I spent five days in the hospital. I spent every day in intensive care with her and that was the only time I had with her and after that I had to leave and I had to leave her in intensive care. 

"For years, I blocked that out. I didn’t remember leaving the hospital, but 10 years ago I went to counselling and I broke down. I remembered everything.

“Since the redress scheme was announced, another mother asked me about my memories of giving birth to Nicole. I have only realised in the last two weeks, that I have no memory whatsoever of giving birth. Imagine, I have no clue? I can’t remember a thing. 

"That is trauma and that’s what this scheme roll-out or discussions have done to me, it’s forced me to return to counselling as it was such a traumatic time.” 

Sharon was discharged from hospital on February 27, 1986, and she was never allowed to see her daughter, who was placed in foster care and then adopted.

I was 17 and I had no legal guardian with me when I signed those adoption papers. I was just scum to them. Her adoption went through in January 1987 and as far as I am concerned, it was illegal. I was underage”.

Sharon returned home and never spoke about her daughter at home again.

“I suffered with depression for 23 years. I didn’t know where I was, I was numb, when it comes to my kids I’m not saying they done without, but I am a better parent now because of counselling. Only for my husband, I don’t know what I’d do.

“I have written to my daughter but she is not ready for a relationship, she has had a good adoption. The best I can hope for is to be her friend, but we will never have a mother-daughter relationship.

"I’m due to get something like €10,000 in compensation, but I’ve to prove I was working also, which will give me another €5,000. Imagine having to ask for €15,000 for being locked up, having your child taken away and illegally adopted after being raped and suffering depression for most of your life? 

"How worse can you feel from all of that? The entire scheme and all the talk around it has forced me back into treatment again — that’s all its done for me.”