So there I was, staying at a different place. It was definitely an improvement from where I was staying, but I still wanted my own place.
I was working part-time at that same retail store, and then I found a full-time job. I worked, and I was still in and out of court and under investigation by social services and casa...not to mention, the guardian ad litem. I'd get to see my precious, little baby boy once or twice a week, but they wouldn't let me see him more than that.
I was paying for the bills for a house that I was literally locked out of, but I continued doing so, for the love of my baby boy.
I continued going to therapy, and taking the classes that the court ordered me too.
My biological father continued being emotionally abusive to me over the phone. He would constantly have me in tears.
I was in so much pain. The worst pain, was the pain of not being with my son. I missed him so much. I can't think about it too much, as I feel my eyes starting to tear up as I am writing this and I am trying to prevent myself from crying........too late......tears are flowing down my face, so I'm going to try to get through this post, and hope that it makes sense.
The pain of having my precious baby boy...the BEST BLESSING that God has ever given me....taken away from me, and I NEVER hurt him...nor would I. What I did to my ex was wrong. I admit it. I don't deny it. But I NEVER hurt my precious, little baby boy. He was, and still is my whole world....HE is my reason for living.
I wanted to die. I literally wanted to die. The pain was so bad....so deep. I had urges to cut myself. I hadn't cut myself for quite a while, but the urges came back, with a vengeance. The pain was so deep. Sure, my psychiatrist had me on an anti-depressant, but it didn't do anything. I wasn't depressed. I missed my baby. NO drug could possibly take away the sadness of having my baby boy taken away from me. No, it was not depression...it was, as I call it, "situational sadness". I was sad due to the situation.
I fought the urges though. All of them. All for the love of my son. It was MY SON that made me want to keep living. It was MY SON that stopped me from cutting myself. It was so very hard not to cut myself, because although cutting is an unhealthy coping mechanism...it works....at least for me it did. Yes, it was only temporary, and the pain always came back, but even to relieve the pain temporary was so very tempting.
I was constantly calling the crisis center. I programmed their phone number on my cell phone. I would call them constantly. Sometimes, several times a day/night. I was an emotional mess.
And my ex...oh, my ex...his true colors certainly continued coming out.
Finally, after 6 months of being homeless (even though I had a 4 bedroom house which was solely in my name, I was homeless)....I got myself an apartment in my home town here in Colorado. I moved in to my apartment in December of 2008. I only had my clothes. My ex wouldn't let me enter the house to get my belongings. He was so mean to me. All I wanted was to enter the house when he wasn't home, so I could get some of MY belongings. He wouldn't let me though.
At first when I tried to move in to my apartment, I was denied because I have a record. It shows up as "assault" on my record. Since 2008, I've been treated like I killed somebody. The only way I got in to the aparment, is because I submitted a letter explaining what happened on that day, and I also submitted letters from medical professionals which indicated that I wasn't a threat.
I was determined....I had to live somewhere. I needed my own place for both my son and myself. I was glad the lettters worked.
So having nothing, I bought myself an air mattress to sleep on. I don't remember when my ex finally let me have some of my things. I think it was in January of 2009.
So I was taken away from my baby on June 14, 2008, and finally in December of 2008, I was allowed to be with him alone for short periods of time. Six long months...six months of them monitoring me with my little boy...and they only started letting me be alone with him in my own apartment in December for limited periods of time. I think the first time might have been on Christmas.
The week before Christmas, I lost that full-time job I was working. I didn't like that job, and the money was low, but still...it was money. Talk about horrible timing. Still, I was able to buy my baby boy presents from Santa Claus. It was his first Christmas. I had a miniature table top tree that I had on the ground since I had no furniture, and I wrapped up all of his gifts, and I even had a stocking for him.
My ex let me see my precious baby boy Christmas afternoon, and Christmas evening. It felt so good to be alone with him in my own home, and not at the office of Social Services.
I had no furniture. I would sit on the ground. The only thing that I had was my air mattress. Finally, January came, and my ex let me have some of my furniture...prior to me taking it, we agreed on who would get what. It felt good to be able to sit on a couch.
Effective in January of 2009, my ex and I would alternate weeks that we each had our son. I would get my son for a whole week at a time! It felt so wonderful to have my baby boy back again, and to be able to hold him, and not get told, "times up", and have him ripped away from me. It was an improvement. It was a step in the right direction.
Still, my journey was far from over. The road in front of me was still long, and it would be a rough one. But at least I had my baby back.
