Fussaboo

Well, I'll start off by saying. This entry should never have to be written because the accusations brought up against me in this post are entirely the falsification of someone I thought would never do anything like that to me.

I haven't been able to write in some time simply because my personal life has taken a turn for the worst. Having almost been a month with no word, I feel like I can finally share my news with my few readers, that I know are curious. I am sure that what I have written in this blog thus far cannot hurt me. I don't think even if I had continued to write up to this point, nothing would have been effected. But, I wanted to be safe. I needed to be safe.

So, it all started on September 28th, 2009. I spent the day shuttling Viviana around town, which I am sure my little bundle of joy was entirely pleased to expirence. We left home around 11am, to go get her one month photos done. Which was so entertaining, attempting to get her to smile and take a picture fast enough to catch it. Out of around 15 pictures, and 4 different poses, we got one shot of her smiling. Even though my hand was obviously in it. (Hey, someone's gotta balance floppy girls head!) I definitely decided to crop it, and print a thriving amount of copies.

After spending about two hours messing around in the studio, it was time to pay and move on to the next event. Even as annoying as it would be, driving plum across hell and high water to switch Viviana's formula would be a load off my non-existent funds. If you guys didn't already know, I am on a program called Women Infants and Children's program aka "WIC" they supply me with some free formula because my income level isn't above poverty line in North Carolina. It's a really great program, and even though it's kind of embarrassing that I can't pay for things on my own. I need help, and since Joe isn't sending me tons of money. I utilize the programs like "WIC" which help give Vivi things she needs, and I can't fully provide. Anyways, back on subject. To switch formula on "WIC", you have to go to the government center. It's a good 45 minute drive away and after arriving a good 2 hour wait to switch. It definitely an annoying adventure that's for sure. Hopefully you don't need to make any phone calls in the 2 hours+ of your life, because there's no cellphone reception in that horrid place for miles.

Thankfully, we weren't there for much longer, and upon re-entering the service area. I noticed I had a new voicemail. I figured it would be the plumbers, our spare toilet had been leaking. They were supposed to be in contact with us to set up a time to come and fix it, so I was waiting to hear from them. Otherwise, I'm not sure if I would have even checked it if I hadn't been waiting on that phone call.

Upon checking the voicemail, it wasn't the plumbers at all. It was a shocking message from "Mike" who works for Child Protective Services, asking me to call him as soon as I could. I'm sure you could all understand my confusion. I kind of thought it was possible that he had the wrong number, so I replayed the message about 10 times with my aunt and room-mate there listening along with me. He said "Ashleigh, please call me at your earliest convenience". This was definitely meant for me. As I dialed his number to see what was actually going on, a knot grew in my stomach. I knew what this was about, and why this was happening. I just couldn't beleive it was. With every ring on the line, the knot in my throat grew tighter and tighter. Finally, he answered.

"Hey, this is Mike from Child Protective Services. We have had an allegation filed against you claming neglect of your child. When will you be home today so we can come speak with you?"

My heart dropped the floor. I couldn't beleive this was happening. I couldn't even form the words, "I'll be home in an hour with this traffic", without my voice shaking. He replied to my tremorous answer with, "See you in an hour". My heart was pounding out of my chest and breaking all at once. I was terrified they would find one small thing I didn't know was terrible, and take Viviana away from me. What if my house wasn't clean enough? I knew it was "messy" and unkempt currently. I could only imagine them telling me because there was breakfast plates still left on the table, my home was unfit for her. The pure idea of loosing the one person in the world I've created, molded, and given all of me(literally) for is incomprehensible to me. With every mile marker on the highway, my stomach climbed farther into my throat. I wished the traffic wasn't there so I could have raced home and felt comfortable with presenting my home to some strange man who held the fate of motherhood in my life.

As I pulled into my drive way, and unloaded Viviana into the house. I tried to run around the house straightening up. Within 5 minutes of our arrival home, there was a knock on my door. All the while Viviana had started crying, and was still in her car seat(she was asleep when we arrived). I was terrified that would reflect badly upon me. Here's some lady not caring for her child while she cries in a car seat. Perfect timing Vivi. But he seemed understanding to us just arriving home. I pulled her out of the car seat, and rocked her until the crying stopped. He asked me if there was anywhere we could talk. I said, anywhere he'd like. So we sat down on my couch, where we'd sit for the next 3 hours.

Our conversation began with a series of questions about thoughts of harming Viviana, and the stresses of motherhood. I explained to him that even though being a new mom, and single at that. I was doing fine. I didn't want to kill Viviana. He then implied that the anonymous caller had told them, I had said that I wanted to kill her before, and those kinds of threats weren't to be taken lightly in their eyes.

As soon as that was said, I knew exactly who the culprit behind these absurd allegations were. It slapped me plain across the face, Joe Brown has in fact taken our argument the evening before too far. For those who might know who that is, it's Viviana's father! I couldn't beleive he'd have called Social Services on me, over an argument that could have been worked out within a couple days. Instead he decided to make a life altering decision in a matter of seconds. I was hurt more than I have ever been hurt by someone in my life. I felt similuar to when you get the breath knocked out of you. I had an idea the entire time, he'd been ignoring my phone calls all day, and no one else would have ever reported me. Our argument before he called, consisted of him asking me to let Viviana live with him and for me to "get my life together" so I could be a good mother. I wasn't being one now, I was irresponsible. I didn't deserve her. He wanted to take her so I could get my "shit together". I said I was fine, and that I wouldn't want that in any situation. I was more than able to take care of Viviana on my own. I wasn't budging at the idea. I think that made him frustrated. He eventually hung up on me, sending me a text message saying, "I'd advise you to do what I've offered. Otherwise you'll have severe consequences." I assume my severe consequences were CPS. He threw it in their faces I sent him an e-mail one night after him not speaking to me for 2 days, or even calling to check on things. I stated that I was so frustrated with her colic that I was going to rip my hair out, kill myself, or kill Viviana. I didn't necessarily mean that literally. I would have never killed myself or Vivi! Maybe rip my hair out, but what's that even matter?! I just couldn't beleive he'd taken it that far.

After explaining to the investigator I indeed knew who had called and filed a complaint, that I didn't mean what I said to him literally. I showed him the e-mail, and he said he thought I might have been suffering from PPD, Post Partum Depression. Mike said it was very common in women after having a child, it didn't mean I wasn't strong or doing anything wrong. I was just suffering from a case of the "baby blues". I tried to explain I didn't beleive I was any type of depressed. That it was in fact possible for a woman to be frustrated or angry at someone without it being my hormones. He laughed, and said it would be best for me to go my doctor. Just in case, I had some type of depression. I agreed I would do what he asked of me.

It's heartbreaking to have my abilities as a mother being tested all because of an immature report filed by an angry father. I provide Viviana with everything she'd ever need. I love her uncontrollably. Even though her mild colic drives me to the edge sometimes, I'd never in a million years lay a single finger on her. She's my everything.

So Mike left her in a "conditionally" safe environment. I was expected to hear from a case worker within a few days to set up things, and continue to be investigated for the next 30 days. I had to be seen by my doctor, and retrieve a letter stating I wasn't suffering from any type of depression. He explained he only put conditionally safe because what I was implying was completely opposite of the allegations against me. So it needed to be investigated further. I still wonder to this day what Joe told them, and what his intentions were. I can only assume he thought they'd rip her away from me and put her on a plane to him. He's obviously an idiot.

It's been 3 1/2 weeks since the complaint was filed. I haven't heard anything from a social worker, or anything. I've been living on edge waiting for them to show up at any given moment. But nothing, I have a little over a week left before the investigation will be closed. I wonder if I'll ever hear anything from them? Not that I'm looking forward to it, but it would be nice to know my name has been cleared of any slander.