Life Returns to Our Normal

I was so worried when Ellie came home that she would not bounce back and be the Ellie I knew before. She was thrilled to be home.  She wanted to touch everything, play with all her toys and was so excited to be able to sleep in her own bed.

Bell was equally happy. Finally coming downstairs, our dog was now back to normal.

Ellie had missed a full week of school.  Her classmates had sent her some notes in the hospital and her teacher sent a sweet note with her homework that had each student signing something for Ellie.  We went through it the weekend after she got home.  She had a lot of homework to do to get caught up.

Ellie was clingy, but seemed okay.  She talked often about what her stay was like in the hospital, but never brought up the visits - or I should say possibility of visits - with DP.  I didn't want to bring it up either.

That first couple of days she was home was a birthday party at our neighbors.  We had, of course, planned to go before she ended up in the hospital.  I didn't know if she would want to go with the circumstances that had happened.  When Sunday came and I threw the idea out, she asked if I would stay, and I was planning on it, and she said that she wanted to go.  I was thrilled.

I was antsy to get life back to normal, but didn't want to push things.  She was again, a bit clingy, but did really well with all the kids.  I watched with tears in my eyes so happy that my girl was back.  Whenever she smiled, I got teary... she was going to be okay.

When Monday rolled around, I wondered how she would do at school.  We rehearsed what she would say if kids asked where she has been all week. She didn't want to tell them why she was in the hospital just yet.  The anxiety that I felt was unwarranted.  She did great.

The next few weeks Ellie snapped back into being her old self.  She found her joy again and I was ecstatic.  The things she learned in the hospital followed us and she continued to amaze me every day.

She continued to go to therapy weekly.


The second week of April brought the news that DP had hired an attorney, JPB.  He was a new attorney, just out of school.

He was not the only new attorney in our lives.  April also brought SH to our lives. She was Ellie's new lawyer.  We got to meet her face to face for the first time at our house.  She came over to meet Ellie on Ellie's turf.  It was pretty amazing.  It was as if she had been a part of our lives forever.  Ellie had no fear in meeting her and let her story unfold right in front of SH.  I was touched by how great they got along.  I let the two of them be alone.  Sure enough, Ellie touched her as well.


The amazing part of this whole process is that Ellie had often been forgotten in the courtroom.  I feel like the Judge often ruled for what he thought might be best for DP.  Occasionally lately, maybe what might be best for me.  And, he often guessed what would be best for Ellie,. Even saying things like, "I am sure if Ellie were here she would say,... " Never was he right.  I felt like I was the one who knew her the most, and knew what she would say if she were there.  JR was always very far off.

The odd thing is that no one asked her.  When asked, she would gladly tell you.  Perhaps even to the point of it making it somewhat awkward.  I didn't mind.  I thought she was better of talking than me telling her to keep quiet.  She wanted nothing to do with DP.  She wished he would go to jail.  She wanted him to know how badly he hurt her and she never wanted to see him again.  Shouldn't we constantly be doing what was best for Ellie? 


That was SH's role.  


As for DP's new lawyer, he was a tool.  He spoke about Ellie, referring to her as "the girl.".  I was ashamed FOR him. 


We would end up going back to court in May.  Just a month and a half after Ellie had been released from the hospital.  


My side would be ready. We had the lady from DHS, the detective who was on our case, Ellie's therapist, Ellie's attorney, and myself ready to testify.   

Ellie Gets Released

 Bell, our dog was missing Ellie too. She did not come downstairs (where are bedrooms are) once that week.  It was the saddest thing I have seen from Bell. She sat, waiting, by our big windows for her Ellie to return.  

Thursday morning meant court.  I would have to face him again.  I had to catch a flight at 12:30 to go to Spokane for work.  That meant missing lunch and dinner with Ellie.  My mom would pitch hit.  I was rushed, but if court meant missing my flight, so be it.

We had Ellie's therapist and me ready to testify. I still was weepy, but ready to be stoic when I needed.  

We rose, as JR came in.  

He, without hearing a word from anyone, said that he was giving me/us 6 months of not seeing DP.  At that time, we would come back and resume.  He apologized again about what had happened and said that he had made a mistake.  The first time I felt things were not one-sided AND not in my favor.  

I didn't have time to chit-chat with my lawyer, nor did I particularly want to - and I knew if I hurried to the airport, I could stop on the way and see Ellie.  I asked her therapist if it was okay (I would be breaking the rules of visiting) and she said, absolutely, it is what Ellie needed.  

I raced to the hospital, got to the locked door and was let in to see Ellie. She came down the hall (not knowing about court) and asked why I was there.  I told her I had some good news.  We went to her room and I told her about that morning.  As soon as the last word left my mouth, Ellie said, the words I had been aching to hear, "I want to come home.  When can I?" 

ahhhhh... music to my ears.  My girl wants to come home.  I was so happy.  

I didn't know if she was ready, though. 

I told her that I would find out and let her know.  I explained I had to run and I would not see her later, but I would call.  

On the way out, I called Dr J, her therapist and asked if she could come home.  She would get back to me. 

*******

Friday morning about 10, a call from the hospital.  "Do you want to come and get Ellie?" 

The drive to the hospital had never been so long.  I was going to get Ellie.  What I thought originally would be 2 nights had turned into 7.  And, what I feared was that she would never be the same.  I worried that the spark was gone forever.  I worried that this whole experience had changed her.  I was terrified, but so excited to have her well enough to come home.  

She was packed and ready to go when I arrived.   We shared the biggest hug possible when we met.  (we always say, I'm going to hug you until you pop... I definitely popped!).  

I had Bell waiting in the car.  It was as if Christmas had arrived for both of them.  So much love in the car! 

*******

As I look back on the time in the hospital, I cannot say how good it was for Ellie.  It saved her.  It also made her a better person.  I was worried that she would not snap back, but she did. And she knows so many more coping skills.  

The doctors and nurses there were amazing.  The art therapy and music therapy she did matured her enough to handle this situation.  She learned something she still uses today: Keep your hands and feet to yourself, Listen to the person who is talking, Be respectful.  Those 3 things were the 3 mantras of the hospital.  Simple enough for every patient to understand and yet so powerful that she has uses those even years later.  I am thankful to my core for those who helped save Ellie. 

The Outcome of the Judge's Decision

** As a reminder, this is a blog looking back at things in the past.  This happened approximately March 22-26, 2010.**




Generally we have a pow-wow after each court case.  This time I couldn't get to the car fast enough.  I didn't want to talk to anyone.  I know DR wanted to comfort me.  I know she wanted to let me know what was next.  I know she wanted to say it would be okay.  

I left the conversation from DR, L and me and I made a beeline to my car.  I didn't say good-bye.  I couldn't.  I was a mess.  I was in a place I hadn't been before.  

I was having trouble getting a breath in.  Not like the exercised induced asthma I had had as a child, but actually having something so heavy on my chest I couldn't breathe.  Or was it that I didn't want to breathe? 

Again, the huge surprise about the verdict and now facing telling Ellie and finally facing the fact that in a few short days Ellie would have to see DP and L was caving in on me. 

******

I drove to my good friend RW's house, knowing full well, I was in no shape to go home just yet.  We cried together, we went back through the day, we tried to come up with ideas of what to tell Ellie.  And then we started to make a list.  Actually two lists.  One if the meeting actually went through. And two if the meeting didn't.  

I could always count on RW to be rational  She was I guess the ying to my yang.  Slowed me down. Thought through things I never would have thought of.  I needed that especially right now.  

While I was there I got a call from my lawyer checking on me.  I didn't answer the first and I did answer the second.  I wept through the call.  I didn't cry, I WEPT. She said she was sorry and that she didn't see it coming.  She was just as surprised by me.  She stated that the next move was that Ellie get her own attorney.  She had 2 people in mind.  The only thing that Ellie needed to do was to write a letter to the Judge telling him that she wanted a lawyer.  

We had two pretty good lists.  

We rehearsed the talk with Ellie several times.  

Time after time, I fell apart.  I cried so many tears that day.  

At one point, I couldn't prolong it anymore.  And I had a huge ache to see my girl.  

******

My mom and dad were both there watching Ellie.  I had called my mom after and just cried into the phone that it went horribly and I would be home when I got myself together.  Ellie had asked my mom several times what had happened in court and my mom told her that I would tell her when I got home.  I called to let them know I was on my way.  The 5 minute drive from RW's house took about 20 minutes.  

As I drove up and in the garage, there was Ellie's sweet face ... waiting.  Jumping up and down, yelling, "did you win, mommy, did you win?".  I felt the tears and gulped as hard as I possibly could.  I ran to her and picked her up.  I said, "today was a hard day, sweetie. We need to talk about it."

I walked her upstairs to where my parents where and I could see my mom had tears in her eyes.  I shook my head at her as to say, "it isn't good." 

"Mommy didn't win." Ellie announced.  

"I didn't, Ellie" I said, "But, we are going to be just fine. We need to figure some things out and we will be fine."

"Do I have to see my dad?" She asked, big brown eyes, looking up at me. 

"Maybe." I said, "But I am going to do everything in my power to stop it."

"I'm not going," Ellie said. I could see the tears building in her eyes.  Her thin arms wrapped around my neck and squeezed as tight as they could.  I didn't mind that it hurt a little.  I could feel every ounce of love from them.  

I wanted Ellie to hear the news first so I took her to her bedroom and sat her on her bed.  I explained that Judge didn't allow me to speak or anyone else.  He kind of had his mind made up.  And because DP hadn't seen Ellie in such a long time, he thought it would be fair for DP to start seeing Ellie again.  At that, Ellie started panic.  She got down from the bed and paced. 

"NO." she said. 

"Let me finish, Ellie." I said.  I had her sit down and this time held her.  I explained that in cases like this there was someone called a supervisor and the Judge picked L to be their supervisor.  At this, Ellie nearly came unglued.  The questions were coming left and right and I just didn't have answers.  As her panicked state began to pick up quickly she also started to cry.  I asked if she could just hang in there until I was done with what happened so I could tell her my plan and then we could go tell Nana and Papa.  

She did and we did. 

My plan was not great.  It started with something easy, which was Ellie getting a lawyer.  This seemed pretty cool to Ellie and she was off once I told her that all she needed to do was to ask for one (oh, how this changes our lives... and our pocketbooks... but, most importantly our lives).  

My next plan was to go get Ellie a phone.  We were nearing the end of Tuesday and while I would work my tush off until the visitation was suppose to start to get it changed, I had to also plan for the worst and that was that the visits would go through.  One thing would be keeping her safe.  A phone, maybe a little camera somewhere on her body, yes... I am Jack Bauer and I don't eat or sleep in 24 hours, but I do a lot of other things.  Don't mess with my kid. 

My mom and dad stayed while I went to get her a phone.  And look for a spy store (I'm not playing around).  

******

I got a couple more things checked off the list on that day - a meeting with Ellie's therapist for the following day, a call with my lawyer, some research on the internet and it was day over.

 *****

Wednesday started with Ellie coming into my room in tears and saying, I'm not going with him. Please don't make me go.  I hadn't slept a wink and knew right away who and what she was talking about.  Of course if I didn't let her go, I was breaking the law.  

I had already had plans to have cameras set up because if Ellie put up a tremendous fuss I would call it off.  I was planning on making sure she didn't know about the cameras because I didn't want those to CAUSE her to act a certain way.  But, I also wanted everything caught on video.  I would never force her to go.  Never.  

I decided we would drive to Seattle that day to get her mind off things and hopefully have some fun.  Little did I know that my 6 year old would regress several years right before my eyes that day.  

The car right started off great.  Ellie was excited.  She had several stuffed animals with her - ahhh... what did I care, that was easy enough.  All who know Ellie know that things are rarely quiet when she is around.  But, it was quiet in the backseat.  

"What's going on back there?" I'd ask... 

"Nothing." came the baby-talk voice.  I'd take a peak and her fingers were in her mouth (never a thumb sucker, always 2-fingers, upside down).  

At first I tried to stop it and then I let it go, realizing what was happening but not to what degree.  

"Hey... Els... do you want to talk about it?" I'd say

"Yes," she would reply. 

"Okay."

"I'm not going, mom.  I am just not going." 

"Well, the law says you have to.  I know it isn't fair and I don't even understand it.  But, you will be protected.  I will make sure of that. I promise."

"I'm not going." 

"So what is going to happen when he comes to the door?"

"I will answer it and I will tell him that I hate him and that I never want to see him again and I will close the door on him. And then I will call 911 and have them arrest him because he should be in jail." 

and... I'm speechless... with tears in my eyes driving to Seattle.  

I take a deep breath and I say (not believing anything that is about to come out of my mouth) "You know we are going to be okay, either way, right?"

And she breaks down in tears.  

I don't blame her, I want to too.  

*******

After getting her calmed down on the side of the road, we are back on track to Seattle.  There are a couple of smiles here and there, but mostly, she is literally in a ball in her car seat, fingers  in her mouth, blanket (who is not allowed off her bed, in normal circumstances ... yes, i said who), in her lap, playing her DSI. 

This was my Ellie.  She even figured out a way to use the pen for her DSI so she didn't have to take her fingers out of her mouth.  

When we got to Seattle she decide she wanted to stay. She decided that Bell, our dog, would find us and Nana would send us our clothes.  She did not want to go home.   We rested in a hotel and headed back.  The weather was bad and Ellie was in no condition to do anything.  Ellie cried for much of the way back and then started wetting herself.  I knew we were declining quickly and that this was a serious situation.  She would apologize profusely, cry more and I just wanted to get home. 

Bell was there to greet us and that was a welcome treat.  Bell always brought Ellie some much needed happiness.  

As I finally got to get an up close look at her after our drive I noticed that she had huge chunks of hair missing.  I asked Ellie about it and she was very honest.  

"I've just been picking at my hair." she said.  

"Are you pulling it out?" I asked

"Yes." simple.  Came the reply

I went to car to see if I could find the damage - there sat a pile of Ellie's sweet curly, thick hair.  A good chunk.  I couldn't scold her.  I could sit her down and have a heart-to-heart. 

But, first had to wipe the tears and compose myself. 

**********

I got Ellie to bed early that night.  It was far too easy. She didn't want to do anything.  So, bed seemed like the obvious next step.  This wasn't my child.  My child giggled, she laughed, she sang crazy songs.  I was watching Ellie disappear before my very eyes. 

"Mom, what is the difference be Heaven and Hell?" Ellie asked as I lay down beside her to read a book.  

At that point right there, there was no question in my mind we were headed into uncharted territories for us.  

E and I have a very close relationship. We talk about everything.  We have been blessed with that, probably because it is just the two of us.  But, this was getting scary, because I knew what was on her mind.  

"Why do you want to know, Ellie?" I asked. 

"Just because," she tried to get by.

"Why? Ellie." 

"Well, because if I go to Heaven I won't have to see him, right?".  

"Look, Ellie, we are not going to have this conversation right now, okay.  

"But, Mommy, is it true?" 

"Ellie, there is no point in talking about it. You going to Heaven is a VERY long time away.  I will not talk about death with you today, tomorrow or in the near future.  I just won't.  Do you understand that?"

Ellie nodded.  

I kissed her goodnight and with eyes streaming out of my eyes, I left her room.  

*********

Thursday morning.  We were going to meet RW and her kids at the zoo.  Ellie was sleeping in and I didn't want to wake her.  Little did I know that when I went to check on her around 10 (!) she wasn't really sleeping at all... but just not wanting to get up.  What? This wasn't Ellie Emery.  

We talked a bit and of course it was the "countdown" that was bugging her.  Now, I am not going to lie - it was bugging me too.  I was doing everything I could legally to get it overturned.  I was writing DHS, the detective, I was doing anything I could have done to try to get it stopped.  I was also preparing for the worst.  Getting the people in place for the cameras, making sure she her clothes were marked clearly with my phone number, getting her phone ready for easy use.  

Ellie would not get out of bed.  She asked me more questions about Heaven and Hell.  She questions were ones that made me have goose bumps.

It hit me.  This is a bigger problem than I can handle.  She now had pulled her eyebrows out as well.  I coaxed her upstairs finally around 11:30 and sat her on the coach where she sat, finger in the mouth, a shell of a person, sobbing motion, but no sounds, and few tears; none were left.  

I called her therapist with a 911 page. She called back immediately and I brought her up to speed on Ellie's quick down fall.  She said she wasn't all that surprised and told me that there was one thing we could possibly do, but if I said yes, I had to do it.  At the Good Sam Hospital there is a small Psychiatric Ward for children - only 4 beds.  She could see if one was open.  If we said yes, we'd have to take it.  

I didn't want to say yes without asking Ellie.  And she respected that.  I asked if I could page her back. 

"Ellie, I was just talking to Dr J," I started, "and she and I both know that this is very hard right now.  I have an idea that I want to see what you think about it.  There is a hospital that helps litt"

"I want to go" 

Before I could get the words out of my mouth, Ellie knew that she needed to go.  She was in.  She knew she needed help and she was ready.  

We got one of four beds and I believe it saved Ellie's life. 

Supervised Visitations

Court is a surreal thing.  You are there, either with representation, or without.  1 or 2 people sitting on either side of the room; and the Judge in front.  “The Bar” separates those people and the rest who are there for either the case in front of the Judge at that time or another that might be being heard after.  There are generally 2 other people in front of the bar; the person keeping the notes, and another -  an assistant to the Judge. 

All of this continues day in and day out.  The idea that one man or one lady… the Judge here, has the final ruling on what happens is what baffles me.  Sure, you want to believe in our system, you want to hope that this Judge is going to know all that has taken place and have the person’s best interest at heart that they should (the child in family court), but do they? Do they spend enough time with each case to understand the idiosyncrasies of each case, or is it that each case is somewhat like a cookie cutter case and while some of the insides change just a little bit, the Judge wants the outside to look the same and will do whatever it is to make that happen?

I am a true believer that our system, the one we have in this glorious, rich, beautiful country of ours, is broken.  And it hurts those that it should protect, the children.

DP sat on the stand, sworn in and admitted to leaving.  He admitted to using cocaine, he admitted to using meth, marijuana and alcohol.  And then he said, that he was clean now.  He further explained that he came back because he wanted to have a life with his child and he was a different man then most.  Most men, especially black men, he went on, would just stay away, but, he, oh, he, wanted to be in his child’s life and was ready to do so. 

While I heard these words I knew we would be okay.  Surely, after admitting that he was a drug user, he would have to go through some kind of testing or counseling before anything else happened.  Ellie would certainly be safe from this man, a mystery man at this point in her life. 

My lawyer went on to question him.  She asked about the times he was in the psychiatric ward.  She asked if he took the medicine prescribed to him.  Or course he didn’t, I thought, and I was thrilled as I was sitting taller in my seat.  We are going to walk out of here and this is going to OVER.

When it came my time for questions, I was able to talk about the time that DP left.  The time that he was on all 4’s over me.  How scared I had become, the restraining order I had just gotten.  I talked about living at my aunts, I talked about my fear of him and how I felt that he added nothing to Ellie’s life as he was right now, but perhaps if he got help, we could revisit it later. 

As I sat down, the judge already had his ruling, he explained that he thought DP was right, not many men would come back.  It was good that he wanted to be involved and this was the first step.  He would have supervised visitation.

As the words came out of the Judge’s mouth, I saw my small daughter in my eyes and my heart fell to the floor.  I was in shock.  Had he not heard that he was going to make our lives’ a living hell? Had he not heard that he was a drug user? And who was he to believe he had stopped? Was he looking at the same man that I was?

Before I could make sense of anything, as the tears were rolling down my face the Judge said, that we would have to pick a supervisor.  I had always known of supervised visitations to be done by the state and for the parent doing the visiting to have to pay for them.  My lawyer suggested just that and the Judge, again, in my opinion, pro-DP, said that since “dad” didn’t have any money and didn’t have a job there would be no way for him to pay. So, let’s be fair and figure out another way. 

I’m sorry what?

Huh?

Did I just hear all that correctly?

So, because he is a worthless bastard who is living off the state, let’s give him pity and have WHO supervise my precious daughter and him???

As the Judge looked at me and said, “Mom, do you know anyone who would be willing to do the supervising?” I nearly became unglued.  Well, I did come unglued.  I started to explain how wrong I thought this all was and that nothing here seemed right and that he should be tested for drugs and he should be in counseling and that someone for the state should supervise.  It fell on deaf ears. 

The Judge repeated, “mom, any suggestions?”

I didn’t have any.  No one I knew would want to be around him.  I was stunned.  It was all moving so fast.  I shook my head no. 

“Dad, any suggestions?”

“Yes.”

Again, my mouth fell to the floor.  What on Earth was this man going to suggest?

“I’d like to suggest JH.”

Well, JH happens to be his ex-girlfriend.  Was he serious? As I said before, she was there.  The judge asked if she was willing to do it.  Of course she was.  Then he turned to me:

“Mom, and objections?”

“Yes, too many to know where to start.”

“Well,” said the Judge, “if you don’t have another person, this is who we are going to go with.  I will give you 3 minutes”

In the end, I had no one else to go with.  It would end up being JH, DP’s ex-girlfriend.  She and her husband lived in an apartment not far from Ellie and me.  Visitations would be once on every weekend for 2 hours and once during the week for 2 hours.  I would take Ellie there, meet JH in the parking lot and pick her up after.  The only people who were supposed to be in the apartment were DP, JH and Ellie.  But, who is to know if that is so or not.  Just one month shy of her 1 year birthday, I was taking Ellie to a woman she didn’t know, in a parking lot, handing her over, for her to take up to a man that she didn’t know.   And so, supervised-visitations began. 

Pregnancy... No Glow, Just a Long 9 Months

I called one of DP’s friend’s to come over and help me sort things out while I actually went to the hospital to have the baby checked.  My worry was that I had been through so much and my stress level was so high, I had done something to the little one inside me. 

His friend CM came over and tried to have a chat with DP, but DP wasn’t talking. I had low electrolytes at the hospital and stayed on some IVs for a couple hours.  I figured it was a nice place to be at the time.

When I got home, things were cleaned up and I had a speech practiced in my head about what I was going to say to DP.  I was ready.  There he lay in my bed. 

“So, I heard about your job. I saw the bullets. Are you thinking about killing yourself?”

“Yes”

“Why?”

“What use am I to you or to the baby?”

At this point, I wished that I had stayed at the hospital, my knees were weak, I could feel all the blood rushing out of my body and I needed to sit. I had no desire to sit on the bed though, I was so furious with this man, I didn’t want to be close to him.  I still loved him, but how on Earth could he do this to me? To us?

“Look,” I said, “it’s a job. You will find another one. But, drinking yourself to death or shooting yourself isn’t the answer. And it certainly isn’t going to happen here.”

“Then, I’ll do it somewhere else” he said.

But he didn’t move. 

I could tell he was not messing around.  He was suicidal. I was worried and my mind quickly was reminded of the night I told DP about being pregnant.  That night, the officer had committed suicide.  I kept thinking about his wife and how she must feel.  What about their 3 year old son? And all I could think about was how would I feel if DP killed himself and how would I explain it to our baby someday. 

I found a suicidal hotline and I called it. They didn’t want to talk to me, but instead wanted to talk to DP.  I held the phone to his ear.  He listened and occasionally grunted.  I took the phone back and they suggested I get him to a hospital ASAP.  Of course, he didn’t want to go. We called another hotline. Same deal.  He wasn’t budging.  I finally got him to promise that if the next day was no better, he would go to the hospital. 

The following day we headed to St Vincent’s and he was admitted to the psychiatric ward.  The relief that I felt was immeasurable.  I wanted him to stay forever.  I just wanted him to get better and come back being the old DP that I knew.  I went home and slept. 

Sadly, 3 short days later, they let him out and then I felt like he was “under my care.”

And yet, I had a full time job (our only income), a baby in my belly and me to talk care of. This is not how I pictured the lovely 9 months of pregnancy.  I was certainly not glowing.

This is about when I learned that the saying “it can’t get any worse” is one of the most asinine sayings in the world… at least in my life.

Shit just fell apart.

I was about 23 weeks pregnant at this point and my routine became the following:

DP stayed at my house and drank – generally crown royal (still can’t stand the smell of that stuff) - from the time he got up until the time he passed out. Because I was super sensitive to the smell and his mood, I packed a bag and stayed nearby at my aunt’s.  In the morning, I’d come home, he’d be passed out, I would check to see if he was breathing. I would shower, change clothes and head to work. 

It was a lovely “nesting” time for me.  And I so looked forward to our life ahead together … oy!

At about week 28 I had had it.  I was done.  I had a very strong desire to nest.  To sleep in MY bed.  To get the nursery ready.  To be in my house.  And my time of letting him do what he was doing was over. I staged an intervention.  I gathered a couple of his friends and I asked for their help and I told them this was either him deciding to get help, or I was ready to do it all on my own (it wasn’t like we had a life together) and get him out of the house. 

It was probably one of the more intense days I can remember.  I actually sat in back of his car so he couldn’t leave (I’m somewhat surprised he didn’t run me over).  After I would say a good 4 hours, he broke down and finally agreed to go back to the hospital.  At this point, I left him in the hospital room (we were back at St V’s) by himself and begged the doctors to take him to the psychiatric ward.  I cried and said, I don’t want him to come home with me. The state took custody of him that night and kept him for a week.  He had no say in the matter, but was mighty pissed at me. 

Home at last, able to nest, I felt good and was wrapping my head around the fact that this was not going to be a fairy tale-esque story (I’m pretty quick on the up-take). 

The fear of doing it all on my own was very real. What would people say (funny thing is now, I don’t give that a thought.  Have the times changed? Or have I?), how would I manage everything I needed to, and how the heck would I know what to do with her hair?! (J)

DP came out claiming to be a new man.  I bought it hook, line and sinker.  He had changed, he wanted to be part of this family and he was going to stop drinking and find a job.  My hormones believed every word he said in the shiny glow of happiness.  It was the pregnancy miracle I had been looking for. 

Too bad he never went to look for jobs… maybe that part was coming soon…

At week 32, I came down with double pneumonia and was put into the hospital.  (I know, at this point you would be changing the channels on your remote, because you just can’t buy it all right?!)… DP decided not to stay with me in the hospital so he could get some sleep. 

“Hey,” I asked, “can you at least call my mom so she knows where I am? Maybe she will come and stay.”

“Of course” he said.

That night, no sleep, due to hacking up golf-sized pieces of phlegm with a big baby on my belly, I kept hoping to see my mom walk in.  She would know what to do to make me feel better.  IF SHE KNEW I WAS THERE…

The following day, I called her collect.  He hadn’t called her. But, an hour later, she was in my hospital room.  I was in for 3 days and then let go.

So happy to be home, as I sat slowly onto the bed, I had a coughing attack. CRACK. I cracked my rib while coughing.  Luckily DP was right there, unable to speak, I just cried and wrote “hospital” on a piece of paper. 

He took me immediately back and they admitted me and put me on an IV drip of morphine.  It was literally the best I had felt all of my pregnancy. THEN, I remembered to ask, “this doesn’t hurt the baby, does it?”

Ellie was due the week of one of the worst snow/ice storms in Portland history. The city was shut down, the airport was shut down for several days.  My dad was stuck in California unable to fly back.  My mom never would have made it up from McMinnville had Ellie been on time.  Luckily she held out until the roads were a little clearer.  She showed up 2 days late.  Labor was a grueling 36 hours and then we had a c-section.  Stubborn right from the get-go. 

I think this catches us up to going into the court systems.  Don’t turn the channel just yet…