We went as a family to the first Friday two hour visit. It had been a long week. I had my meltdown at physical therapy. And Julian was cutting in his third tooth. Everyone was tired and needed a break from social services. It was a hot day in mid August. My husband drove while I sat in the passengers seat biting my nails and worrying. Julian sat in his car seat, wearing an insultated pair of baby blue jogging pants, a long sleeve onsie and tennis shoes. He was cranky, probably because it was nap time and he was hot. As he whined in the back I took off his shoes and socks in hopes to help him cool off. As I adjust back to facing forward and began buckling my seat belt, my husband put his hand on my leg as if to say...its going to be alright, stop worrying.
I was not only nervous about this visit but I was also fuming over the clothes they wanted him to wear that day. Every time I dressed him for a visitation day I had to put him in the clothes they brought for him to wear. Nine times out of ten he wore something in appropriate for the weather outside or something that wasn't the right size. Usually to small. Social services once again worried only about making the bios happy and not worried about Julian's comfort. It wasn't an issue that they didn't even know his size or couldn't even guess that it was going to be hot in August. It was only an issue if I didn't have him in the correct outfit that the bios wanted to see him in. It was just one more thing I used as excuse of why they shouldn't get him back. If they couldn't even figure out how to dress him for two hours on a Friday how would they figure it out 365 days a year.
With Julian's feet now bare he seemed to drift off to sleep. The radio was lightly playing in the back ground and I could feel the butterflies getting worse and worse as we got closer and closer to the county building. My mind was full of chatter. I could tell the music was playing but I could only hear my own thoughts. I was playing every visit up to this point in my head. Each time I had to drive here on Friday I knew I was only leaving him for just an hour. Now this time I was having to leave him for two hours. It seemed so much longer. I knew in my heart that they couldn't hurt him physically because the visits were supervised. But I also knew that in the past Julian's visits for just an hour caused major stress to my little man. Most days they didn't bring the right formula or they didn't bring any formula at all. So he would be starving the entire time. I always packed a bottle just in case so he would have something to eat on the ride home. The concerns the bios had were about his hair and clothes and not about if he was hungry or tired. They tried to over stimulate him with toys that were loud and full of lights, yet the toys were never age appropriate so he could never hold them. The poor kid always came home crying for hours. Now my concern was what would two hours do to him.
As we pulled into the main parking lot I looked up front for their car. We were about 15 minutes early and we didn't see their car there. My heart skipped at the thought of them not showing up. I gave my husband a look of excitement and he said, "What is that silly look for?" I said,"They aren't here yet!" He smiled and said, "It is still early don't get to excited yet. I bet they show up because they have to be in court next week." I thought oh yeah this week is a court date....my shoulders slumped over and I was back to disappointed. He was right they would show if they had to look good for court next week. We parked in the back as we always did and Julian woke up from his short nap when the car turned off. He started to cry big tears. I jumped out of the car and got him out of his car seat. As soon as he saw me the tears stopped. I sat back in the front seat with him on my lap. His little body felt so hot. My legs began to produce sweat just from him sitting on me. I asked my husband to turn the car back on because we needed the air conditioning before one of us over heated.
As the motor purred and the A/C cooled us all down. Julian and my husband played and giggled. My husband was taking Julian's little feet and putting them to his nose and in a high pitched voice he would say,"Pewey you have stinky feet." Julian laughed at the tone my husband was using and as soon as his giggle stopped he would raise his little foot to my husband because he wanted him to do it again.
As they played my heart was pounding. I was giggling at their joking around but I kept searching the back door for a social worker that would be coming to take Julian in. There were many that came out of that back door but none that we knew. Finally the clock said ten minutes late! I knew if they were ten minutes late that the appointment was canceled. I handed Julian to his dad and I began dialing Betty Rose's directly line. She of coarse didn't answer. She never did when I called. Finally, I got a hold of the gal that usually watched over the visits. She said, "They ain't here. So I am guessing it isn't happening. I haven't heard from them either." I couldn't believe what she was saying. My heart was pounding with excitement. I said to her,"Ya know they are suppose to be in court next week. " She said,"I know and this won't look good."
I hung up the phone and my husband and I both squealed in delight! This couldn't get much better for us. The visit before their court date and they didn't show! Finally a win for our side. Julian had no idea why were excited but his little face showed just as much excitement as our did. I took Julian from my husbands arms. Stripped off the hot clothes and in only a diaper sat him back in his seat so we all could drive back home as a family!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Occupational Therapy Bomb
As I walked toward the clinic doors I glanced at myself in the reflective glass. I was wearing sweat pants and my shirt was a tee shirt that looked just as old and tired as my eyes. My hair was tied up in a bun and my face was red from my little fit in the park. I wondered to myself how much longer would we be living like this and quickly thought hopefully not to much longer. My heart was hidden beneath the clothes and the flesh but it was broken in a million pieces and that was showing through every inch of my being. I looked as broken as I felt. I was tryin not to give myself to much of a lecture about letting myself turn into this unkept mom as I opened the door and walked into the clinic, but the words had already begun to flow through my head. How did you get here? Sweat pants really? Remember when you use to get ready for work everyday? Now your screaming in parks and wearing sweat pants in public...wow we need to work on this.
As, I steped into the waiting room, it was odd that I was the only one there. Even the receptionist had stepped away from the front desk. I didn't sit down instead I went down the small hallway to the room we were always in and from just a few steps away I heard his giggle. I leaned up against the wall and as that sweet little sound took my breath away. I needed to hear it again....and within seconds there it was. Julians giggle was what gave me my energy. I was like Mrs. Pac Man and his giggle was the gold coins. It filled my heart like nothing else could.
As I stood in the hallway I took a few more steps toward the room. I wanted to see what was making him laugh that way. As I hid just outside the large door, I tried to sneak a glance without him seeing me. I then caught a glimps of him and Denise reflecting back at me in a mirror. He was playing on a large aqua blue yoga ball. Denise was trying to get him to figure out he could stand on his legs by having him hold onto the ball and then slowing roll him up to a stand. He however thought they were playing and the giggle came everytime he would come up to the stand position and he could see his own reflection in the mirror. I was in awe watching the two of them. He had the strength I always wished I had. He was overcoming all that life had given him so far. Each time he stood without realizing he could, he was telling his abusers they didn't win. I must have stood there for only a few minutes before he caught me watching them.
As our eyes met his face melted from full of joy to a loud cry without tears. Denise turned her head my way and burst into laughter. She and I both knew it was Julians favorite game with me. He knew as soon as he saw me that if he began to cry I would come in and rescue him with a big HUG. And right on cue that is exactly what I did. I picked up my little man and I kissed all over his face. He was back to giggling within seconds and so were we. As I sat on the floor with Denise and Julian, I simply said, "Thank you" to Denise. She gave me her big smile and said," Your doing all the work here. I just take him an hour a week and show you what to do when you get home. You deal with everything else that not every parent, including myself, can understand. The least I can do is tell you take a break when I see you need one." I had no more words for her. I was lost in my own head. I didn't like that we even needed help. I wanted this nightmare to end and Julian to be ours. I didn't want to have to think about appointments other than the ones Julian needed for his rehibilation. I also couldn't share that with Denise. She was Julian's physical therapist not my phsycologist. So instead of saying anything else I just faked a smile and took my gaze back to Julian. We both watched him for a minute or so as he laid on his belly and talked to himself in the mirror.
Then she said,"I know you don't want to hear this but there is something else we need to talk about." Her tone had changed. I knew she was about to hit me with something that she didn't feel good about telling me. I said,"Ok, what is it?" She said," Julian, is 10 months old now. We have been doing physical therapy once a week for 5 months and he still isn't doing a lot of things he should be. He isn't trying to crawl or even roll around. He still is not confident in putting weight on his legs and he doesn't even grab for toys. I think he needs to see an occupational therapist for an evaluation." My heart dropped...another therapist. All I could think is NOT ANOTHER APPOINTMENT. This was our first week of having an appointment almost everyday. How could I possibly fit in another? I knew I had to agree. If it helped Julian it had to be done but every inch of my being screamed NO MORE APPOINTMENTS! But I knew all that mattered was Julian and what was best for him. I told Denise we would set up an appointment before we left that day with an occupational therapist and that is what we did.
On our way home that day, as I tried to stop thinking about the future and only concentrate on that moment with Julian, I listened to him babbled in the back seat. We were talking, well he was doing most of the talking. It was as if he was telling me all he worked on while I was at the park. As he babbled I giggled and my worries melted away. When I would giggle he would smile his little two teeth smile long enough to let me finish laughing and then he would just keep talking. I knew Julian and I understood one another better than any two people could that didn't share the same blood. We were sharing moments in time that only he and I would keep in our hearts. He was my strength and I was his. And I knew we would make it through this and I hoped in the end we would be together. But for that moment I just loved being the one he shared his stories with.
As, I steped into the waiting room, it was odd that I was the only one there. Even the receptionist had stepped away from the front desk. I didn't sit down instead I went down the small hallway to the room we were always in and from just a few steps away I heard his giggle. I leaned up against the wall and as that sweet little sound took my breath away. I needed to hear it again....and within seconds there it was. Julians giggle was what gave me my energy. I was like Mrs. Pac Man and his giggle was the gold coins. It filled my heart like nothing else could.
As I stood in the hallway I took a few more steps toward the room. I wanted to see what was making him laugh that way. As I hid just outside the large door, I tried to sneak a glance without him seeing me. I then caught a glimps of him and Denise reflecting back at me in a mirror. He was playing on a large aqua blue yoga ball. Denise was trying to get him to figure out he could stand on his legs by having him hold onto the ball and then slowing roll him up to a stand. He however thought they were playing and the giggle came everytime he would come up to the stand position and he could see his own reflection in the mirror. I was in awe watching the two of them. He had the strength I always wished I had. He was overcoming all that life had given him so far. Each time he stood without realizing he could, he was telling his abusers they didn't win. I must have stood there for only a few minutes before he caught me watching them.
As our eyes met his face melted from full of joy to a loud cry without tears. Denise turned her head my way and burst into laughter. She and I both knew it was Julians favorite game with me. He knew as soon as he saw me that if he began to cry I would come in and rescue him with a big HUG. And right on cue that is exactly what I did. I picked up my little man and I kissed all over his face. He was back to giggling within seconds and so were we. As I sat on the floor with Denise and Julian, I simply said, "Thank you" to Denise. She gave me her big smile and said," Your doing all the work here. I just take him an hour a week and show you what to do when you get home. You deal with everything else that not every parent, including myself, can understand. The least I can do is tell you take a break when I see you need one." I had no more words for her. I was lost in my own head. I didn't like that we even needed help. I wanted this nightmare to end and Julian to be ours. I didn't want to have to think about appointments other than the ones Julian needed for his rehibilation. I also couldn't share that with Denise. She was Julian's physical therapist not my phsycologist. So instead of saying anything else I just faked a smile and took my gaze back to Julian. We both watched him for a minute or so as he laid on his belly and talked to himself in the mirror.
Then she said,"I know you don't want to hear this but there is something else we need to talk about." Her tone had changed. I knew she was about to hit me with something that she didn't feel good about telling me. I said,"Ok, what is it?" She said," Julian, is 10 months old now. We have been doing physical therapy once a week for 5 months and he still isn't doing a lot of things he should be. He isn't trying to crawl or even roll around. He still is not confident in putting weight on his legs and he doesn't even grab for toys. I think he needs to see an occupational therapist for an evaluation." My heart dropped...another therapist. All I could think is NOT ANOTHER APPOINTMENT. This was our first week of having an appointment almost everyday. How could I possibly fit in another? I knew I had to agree. If it helped Julian it had to be done but every inch of my being screamed NO MORE APPOINTMENTS! But I knew all that mattered was Julian and what was best for him. I told Denise we would set up an appointment before we left that day with an occupational therapist and that is what we did.
On our way home that day, as I tried to stop thinking about the future and only concentrate on that moment with Julian, I listened to him babbled in the back seat. We were talking, well he was doing most of the talking. It was as if he was telling me all he worked on while I was at the park. As he babbled I giggled and my worries melted away. When I would giggle he would smile his little two teeth smile long enough to let me finish laughing and then he would just keep talking. I knew Julian and I understood one another better than any two people could that didn't share the same blood. We were sharing moments in time that only he and I would keep in our hearts. He was my strength and I was his. And I knew we would make it through this and I hoped in the end we would be together. But for that moment I just loved being the one he shared his stories with.
Monday, January 18, 2010
A Major Breakdown
I dropped the girls off that day not knowing what to expect from Ashley in the future. Would she write or call? Would I hear from her again? I knew in my heart that it didn't matter if I thought I was the right fit for her child or not...what really matter was what she thought. When I got home my husband and I pondered the idea of another baby. He and I shared the same fears...could we handle both babies if she choose us and we were blessed to keep Julian? Neither of us knew the answer to that question but when we were honest with one another we both loved the idea of beign able to have Ashley's baby. Just the idea of having a child that we knew would be ours forever. And in our hearts there is nothing more we wanted than for Julian to be that child but the unknowns were still out there and each day we grew a little more weary. Only God knew what would come to pass.
That week started our new schedule with Julian's visitation. Two visits a week with the bios and physical therapy. We started our week working and exercising as we always did. Julian was rolling over at night but still struggling with doing it on his own. He was becoming more comfortable with being on his tummy and playing but he still didn't reach for things or try and get them by crawling. His little legs still went limp underneath his tiny body if we tried to get him to stand on them. But we never gave up on him. I took each day with him on as a new challenge. Just as there were many things that hadn't changed with Julian there were many things that had changed for the best. His trust factor with my husband and I was evident more and more each day. He reached for us and knew we were the ones that kept him safe. He was more full of life and less full of fear and you could see it by the way his eyes shined. It was like the veil had be lifted and he knew he could live again. His giggles began to out weigh his tears. He had a laugh that came from his belly and it just made the whole world seem brighter. His cries began to be less painful and more normal for what he needed. He was putting on weight and his little cheeks were full and rosey. He wasn't puking on me due to the acid reflux nearly as much as he used to and we had even almost weined him off the medicine. He loved nothing more than to play with his toys and the pugs and I loved nothing more than watching him.
As we went to physical therapy that week I could feel my heart and mind being tired. My chest was tight and my mind was full of fear. I am sure it was the idea of how my week was going to go with the new visitation schedule. I hated the idea of taking him to spend more time with the people that hurt him, even if it was supervised. I didn't trust them or the system to watch over my child.
I was just wishing for a week off from all of it. I was tired of Betty Rose and all that came with her. I was tired of worrying about the bios and if they would do just enough to take Julian from us. I worried about my own heart and how I would make it through losing this child I had made my own. I just wanted to know what it would be like to be a normal family. I could feel my mind racing and my heart pounding in fear. I looked back to check on Julian in the car seat I saw he had fallen asleep. It was almost within seconds of seeing his sleeping face that tears were streaming down my face. I tried to hold it in but they just kept falling. I tried to never cry in front of Julian. I felt he had enough to try and process in that little mind of his without worrying about why mommy was crying again. Usually, I could shed a few tears and then turn it off but this time I couldn't. I cried for the next 30 minutes to the appointment. I let a tear for everything we had been through up to this point. I cried for every dissappointment we had been given, I cried for everyone that had failed us as a family and cried in pain at the idea of losing my child. As, I pulled into the parking lot and I still couldn't stop crying. I found myself even saying the words out loud, PULL IT TOGETHER WOMAN!
Julian woke up when I turned off the car. I put my sunglasses on in hopes that he wouldn't see the tears. But in all reality the tears were streaming down my face and there was no stopping them. My weary mind and heart had finally had enough and now my body had to find some sort of release. As I scooped Julian up out of the car seat he gave me a huge smile. And the same smile that usually made all things better all of the sudden caused more tears. I was talking to him as we walked into the clinic and telling him I loved him. At the door we were met by Julian's physical therapist, Denise. She knew instantly I was crying...it was hard to not notice. My face was red and tears were streaming like a waterfall. I tried to smile at her to let her know everything was fine but she knew better. She and I had bonded over the last few months over this small child that brought us together and as I looked at her she knew I needed her to help me at that moment. She reached out her hands to Julian and he immediatly went with her and gave her that same smile of delight I had just seen in the car. As he left my arms and went to hers she said," Mommy needs to go get a cup of coffee today. How about you and me just do this on our own today?" I said, "I can't leave him," and although the words were coming from my mouth I wanted nothing more than to not be there with them. I wanted to run from my life. I wanted to jump in the car and head to Mexico all alone. To find a new identity to leave it all behind. Denise grabbed my hand and said,"Honey, we all need a break from our lives sometimes and before we have to put you in a mental institution, you need to go get a cup of coffee...ALONE. Just go grab a cup and sit outside and breath for awhile. Your heart needs a break." She giggled and I smiled through the tears. I thanked her and I left Julian with her.
I didn't go far. I skipped the coffee and walked over to a small park and sat on a bench. It was a beautiful day outside the sun was shining but I couldn't feel the warmth come over my skin. On any other day I would have wanted to soak it in but this day the sun's warmth was clouded by my heart ache. On a perfectly sunny day I felt likeI was standing in the middle of a hurricane.
The park seemed quiet and I could hear nothing my own sobbing flooding the air. Then without warning I just began screaming. I shocked myself with the action. It was almost like an out of body experience. I had my hands raised in the air and I was looking up at the clear blue sky and my words were loud and they were angry. I was speaking to God, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHY? WHY? WHERE ARE YOU IN THIS? HOW COME YOU EVEN BROUGHT HIM TO ME? I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! MAKE THEM MAKE A DECISION ON THIS I DON'T EVEN CARE WHAT IT IS! DO YOU HEAR ME I DON'T CARE!"
With those words my tears finally stopped and I no longer felt the pain in my chest. It was like God had taken it so I could deal with life again. The fear was replaced with shock. Did I really just say...I didn't care? How could I say that! Is that how I really felt? I was slowly lowering my arms and as I looked at my own hands the thoughts began to bring me back to reality. I began to wonder how I even got to the park I didn't remember the walk over. As I came back to reality I noticed there were people in the park. Two ladies my age sat at a table staring in my direction, one smiled and raised her hand as if to say hello, while the other had tears in her eyes. I raised my hand back and then out of shear embarrassment I turned to go back to the clinic.
That week started our new schedule with Julian's visitation. Two visits a week with the bios and physical therapy. We started our week working and exercising as we always did. Julian was rolling over at night but still struggling with doing it on his own. He was becoming more comfortable with being on his tummy and playing but he still didn't reach for things or try and get them by crawling. His little legs still went limp underneath his tiny body if we tried to get him to stand on them. But we never gave up on him. I took each day with him on as a new challenge. Just as there were many things that hadn't changed with Julian there were many things that had changed for the best. His trust factor with my husband and I was evident more and more each day. He reached for us and knew we were the ones that kept him safe. He was more full of life and less full of fear and you could see it by the way his eyes shined. It was like the veil had be lifted and he knew he could live again. His giggles began to out weigh his tears. He had a laugh that came from his belly and it just made the whole world seem brighter. His cries began to be less painful and more normal for what he needed. He was putting on weight and his little cheeks were full and rosey. He wasn't puking on me due to the acid reflux nearly as much as he used to and we had even almost weined him off the medicine. He loved nothing more than to play with his toys and the pugs and I loved nothing more than watching him.
As we went to physical therapy that week I could feel my heart and mind being tired. My chest was tight and my mind was full of fear. I am sure it was the idea of how my week was going to go with the new visitation schedule. I hated the idea of taking him to spend more time with the people that hurt him, even if it was supervised. I didn't trust them or the system to watch over my child.
I was just wishing for a week off from all of it. I was tired of Betty Rose and all that came with her. I was tired of worrying about the bios and if they would do just enough to take Julian from us. I worried about my own heart and how I would make it through losing this child I had made my own. I just wanted to know what it would be like to be a normal family. I could feel my mind racing and my heart pounding in fear. I looked back to check on Julian in the car seat I saw he had fallen asleep. It was almost within seconds of seeing his sleeping face that tears were streaming down my face. I tried to hold it in but they just kept falling. I tried to never cry in front of Julian. I felt he had enough to try and process in that little mind of his without worrying about why mommy was crying again. Usually, I could shed a few tears and then turn it off but this time I couldn't. I cried for the next 30 minutes to the appointment. I let a tear for everything we had been through up to this point. I cried for every dissappointment we had been given, I cried for everyone that had failed us as a family and cried in pain at the idea of losing my child. As, I pulled into the parking lot and I still couldn't stop crying. I found myself even saying the words out loud, PULL IT TOGETHER WOMAN!
Julian woke up when I turned off the car. I put my sunglasses on in hopes that he wouldn't see the tears. But in all reality the tears were streaming down my face and there was no stopping them. My weary mind and heart had finally had enough and now my body had to find some sort of release. As I scooped Julian up out of the car seat he gave me a huge smile. And the same smile that usually made all things better all of the sudden caused more tears. I was talking to him as we walked into the clinic and telling him I loved him. At the door we were met by Julian's physical therapist, Denise. She knew instantly I was crying...it was hard to not notice. My face was red and tears were streaming like a waterfall. I tried to smile at her to let her know everything was fine but she knew better. She and I had bonded over the last few months over this small child that brought us together and as I looked at her she knew I needed her to help me at that moment. She reached out her hands to Julian and he immediatly went with her and gave her that same smile of delight I had just seen in the car. As he left my arms and went to hers she said," Mommy needs to go get a cup of coffee today. How about you and me just do this on our own today?" I said, "I can't leave him," and although the words were coming from my mouth I wanted nothing more than to not be there with them. I wanted to run from my life. I wanted to jump in the car and head to Mexico all alone. To find a new identity to leave it all behind. Denise grabbed my hand and said,"Honey, we all need a break from our lives sometimes and before we have to put you in a mental institution, you need to go get a cup of coffee...ALONE. Just go grab a cup and sit outside and breath for awhile. Your heart needs a break." She giggled and I smiled through the tears. I thanked her and I left Julian with her.
I didn't go far. I skipped the coffee and walked over to a small park and sat on a bench. It was a beautiful day outside the sun was shining but I couldn't feel the warmth come over my skin. On any other day I would have wanted to soak it in but this day the sun's warmth was clouded by my heart ache. On a perfectly sunny day I felt likeI was standing in the middle of a hurricane.
The park seemed quiet and I could hear nothing my own sobbing flooding the air. Then without warning I just began screaming. I shocked myself with the action. It was almost like an out of body experience. I had my hands raised in the air and I was looking up at the clear blue sky and my words were loud and they were angry. I was speaking to God, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHY? WHY? WHERE ARE YOU IN THIS? HOW COME YOU EVEN BROUGHT HIM TO ME? I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! MAKE THEM MAKE A DECISION ON THIS I DON'T EVEN CARE WHAT IT IS! DO YOU HEAR ME I DON'T CARE!"
With those words my tears finally stopped and I no longer felt the pain in my chest. It was like God had taken it so I could deal with life again. The fear was replaced with shock. Did I really just say...I didn't care? How could I say that! Is that how I really felt? I was slowly lowering my arms and as I looked at my own hands the thoughts began to bring me back to reality. I began to wonder how I even got to the park I didn't remember the walk over. As I came back to reality I noticed there were people in the park. Two ladies my age sat at a table staring in my direction, one smiled and raised her hand as if to say hello, while the other had tears in her eyes. I raised my hand back and then out of shear embarrassment I turned to go back to the clinic.
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