As I make the pilgrimage through three events in my life my hope is to connect with others who may feel alone while living with similar issues or to spread knowledge to those ignorant of what our family works through on a daily basis.
My second son was born a normal, healthy baby boy. Somewhere along the way he became sick. Not physically ill, but has been diagnosed with autism, PTSD, and has all the signs of being diagnosed with a more serious mental health problem which we are trying to avoid through intense therapy. Although there is no one "thing" that caused all of this, a behavioral therapist gave us a list of possible reasons why, why my little boy was chosen to face this hardship in life. The list begins with my son's weakened immune system combined with the older recommended vaccine schedule being forced on him by doctors with limited training on the harmful effects of mass vaccination. As someone who deals with pain and illness on a regular basis I can say that I would much rather have my son become sick with chicken pox or whooping cough and recover with our organic lifestyle, than to suffer the rest of his life with all of "this."
So the story starts with a burst aneurysm. My husband and little man's father had a dissected aortic aneurysm about 5 years ago. While I was in the hospital caring for this man who couldn't walk, feed himself, or lift a telephone without help, child protective services showed up at my door. At the time we did not belong to HLDA (simply put, we didn't have lawyers to protect us from these people like we do now) and my family, who was at the house did what any unknowing sane person would do. The state was let into our lives. I've learned since then that others did not have this happen to them which means someone had to call in a complaint. And since we had so many people in our lives at the time we could not trust, I have no idea who it could have been. All I can tell you about that time is that I used every last bit of strength to keep it together, protect everyone I loved, and keep my mouth shut as much as I could, and simply dealt with the situation at hand. My life was falling apart. For a month the surgeons at the Mayo clinic comforted me as I was reminded with each release form I signed that his chances of surviving were limited. Faith in a God bigger than me comforted me when I began to think that I could be a widow with three children at the age of 29. And the few times I was alone I practiced wrapping a belt around the rod in my closet because I needed to be ready to die if one more person heaped their crap on my head. Specifically I remember calling for help only once (this was after CPS showed so I know the person who helped me on the other end of that phone couldn't have reported me). I was sobbing, seconds away from ending everything, and called for help, for someone to talk me out of ending it all while my parents had my kids and my husband sat alone in the ICU. It was one of the lowest points of my life and I did nothing to deserve it. So please, make sure that you know the facts before calling child protective services on a family because had my kids been taken from me because of someone else's mistake, I would have fought back and I would have won. And whoever tried to destroy my family as we were fighting for our lives would have had a higher Judge to answer to. That's that.
Next... I mentioned my child with severe mental & emotional problems and autism. So we were at the store less than a mile from our home. I stopped on the way home to buy treats for my boys because they had behaved and that's what type of mom I am. I parked in front of the big double glass doors, brought my youngest child in with me and left my middle son in the car with my oldest. My mentally ill son took a bottle of febreeze I kept in the car (before I knew how toxic that crap is) and sprayed my oldest son in the face. I immediately came out to the car, spanked my middle child's hand before rushing my oldest into the store as he screamed "I need water!" for his eyes, which had gotten sprayed. As I brought him back out to the car and attempted to get my family the half mile up the road to our home, a middle-aged woman decided to very obviously come up to the back of my mini-van and write down the plate numbers with a scowl on her face. Instead of asking if I needed help or even speaking to me at all, she got back in her car and drove off. Low and behold CPS shows up again. And again, I thought I had to let them into my life in order to prove I was a good mom to the state. Big mistake... NEVER let them into your home. If you homeschool I highly recommend paying for the HSLDA membership. After the woman checked our home and our pantry she promptly apologized and left. The wife of the pastor at our church told me around that time that I was known in our church as somewhat of a "Supermom." Then why does CPS keep bothering me and not the parents who actually need to be bothered?
Finally, the straw that breaks the camels back... yesterday. We are getting ready to move. I have serious health problems which are made a million times worse when I spend all day on my feet or do any hard labor. So the day before I spent about 8 hours harvesting, cooking and canning the pumpkins and spaghetti squash I had spent 6 months caring for. I am not leaving the hard work behind simply because we are moving. Yesterday, like clockwork, I spent the morning vomiting and bleeding. I don't like to scare my children with this, so I wait until I am somewhat "better" before leaving the camper and heading up to the main house. My middle child stays locked in his room until I can watch him- for his safety and protection. Like a child with severe mental health problems he screams, like really, really loud. I was bleeding and feeling pretty weak, but heard my child screaming and knew something was wrong. My youngest had let him our of his bedroom in order to play. My middle child started screaming like a madman in order to get attention, because that's what he does. So I manage to make it up to the house, while still pretty sick, and found that absolutely nothing was wrong, my son was simply acting out his illness in a very loud manner. As I worked my way up to the home my grouchy neighbor stood close to our property line, arms crossed, glaring at me as if I was running an abusive household. Wtf? Does having a sick child does not make me a bad mother? And apparently she didn't seem to be bothered when I needed to run out of the camper in order to get sick twice that morning, but when she thought she might get the chance to call someone to report me to, she was standing as the hero at the end of her yard.
So here's what I'm getting at... there are people "out there" who need help from the state. They truly cannot care for their children and need help. Children in this country are living in condemnable homes with neglectful parents and they need help as well. But, if you see a mother who is struggling, or a mother that may be holding her family together by a string, please don't call the state. Before calling to try to destroy this mother and her efforts to care for her family, maybe talk to her first. I will be the first to extend my knowledge and understanding heart and words to educate ANYONE on the facts of either my current situation or why my son is screaming like person being murdered. Knowledge is power.
Today I am at peace with what happened yesterday. But yesterday I wanted to scream and cry and call my appointed lawyer on speed dial as a pre-emptive strike. I actually got to meet one of men fighting for Missouri homeschoolers at the convention. He prayed with me and my husband and gave us some valuable information and encouragement. In the end, I figured I would wait it out and if someone was sent to our home, decide what to do then. I am too sick and I get too tired. Let them take him. Take me. Or call my lawyer. I don't know what I'll do. So today I am wildly organic and working towards being healthy. So is my family and so is my son. I trust that good will overcome and all of our efforts and our fighting to keep our family together despite unfair-ness, will prevail.
Thanks for reading,
Jackie
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