Shock, disbelief and loneliness

The next day, Maria shared her story with her husband, but he wasn't met with understanding. On the contrary, her husband reacted with extreme skepticism and concern for her mental well-being. It's hardly surprising: his wife's story sounded unbelievable, as if straight out of a science fiction movie or a nightmare. Maria, however, insisted it wasn't a dream—she felt it had actually happened, though she couldn't rationally explain it.

Concerned about his wife's emotional state and the strange details of her relationship, Maria's husband urged her to see a psychiatrist. He hoped the specialist would explain it as a sleep disorder or delusion and recommend treatment. Maria agreed to the appointment, although she already sensed that her version of events might be dismissed. Indeed, during the consultation, the psychiatrist concluded that Maria had experienced a psychotic episode. Her story about the stolen unborn child, light, and extraterrestrials was interpreted by the doctor as symptoms of a serious disorder, perhaps caused by stress or a neurochemical imbalance. He recommended pharmacotherapy (antipsychotic medication) and further psychiatric treatment.

Maria, however, rejected this diagnosis and plan. Deep down, she was convinced that what she had experienced was real—unbelievable and difficult to comprehend, perhaps, but real in a way other than ordinary experiences. She did not consider herself mentally ill. She also feared that the medications would suppress her ability to remember the details of the event or—worse—suppress the "truth" the mysterious beings were trying to convey to her.

Instead, she decided to find her own way to cope with the experience. She realized she had to be careful in sharing her story, so as not to expose herself and her family to social exclusion or ridicule. Soon, whispers and rumors began to circulate—after all, word of what "Mrs. Cuccia was telling" spread quickly throughout the neighborhood. Maria felt she had to protect her children from the stigma of "that UFO lunatic's children." Therefore, she withdrew into herself and, for a time, told no one else about the incident.For years, Maria kept a secret journal, recording all her memories from that fateful night, her feelings, dreams, and any subsequent strange events. Writing in the journal was therapeutic for her—it allowed her to organize her thoughts and vent emotions she couldn't express aloud.

In solitude, she also tried to unravel the meaning of the messages she had heard. She wondered why the name Elijah , why her child would be taken by other beings, and what "good purpose" they might have in mind. She also wondered if this was a one-time event, or if perhaps more unexplained things had been happening in her life—perhaps since childhood—that she had previously overlooked.

In the following years, Maria experienced episodes that only reinforced her belief that this was no illusion. In her accounts, she recalls, for example, sometimes feeling a presence at night—once waking up with the belief that a man was standing at the foot of her bed (but he immediately disappeared). Other times, she saw strange lights in the sky above her house through her window or heard unidentified helicopters flying low, as if someone was watching her. Such incidents—though fleeting and difficult to document—made Maria increasingly less certain of her experience in 1992. At the same time, however, she still felt very alone with this knowledge. She needed to talk to someone who wouldn't laugh at her or send her to the hospital.