Court = Fear

In my world court = fear.

Monday, not long after posting what I did, I was sent to the hospital to pick up the baby, a sweet, tiny baby boy. I was sent alone and asked to keep my presence hush-hush, since the mom was still there with her baby. Where does one get a baby at the hospital? I went to the maternity ward and was ushered into a room to watch videos about using a car seat, not shaking the baby, and SIDS. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, after the county workers came to visit me and to officially tell the mom she would not be leaving the hospital with her baby, the nurse wheeled the baby into the room. He was so tiny with a full head of dark hair. The nurse gave me some final instructions and let me dress the baby before sending us on our way with a security escort. And I was on my way with a tiny baby.

Tuesday was quiet at home. Wednesday was busy with the first doctor's visit and a court hearing. Court. I hate court. The last dependency hearing I had with a little baby resulted in the baby going home that same day. And, it was mentioned again after the hearing this afternoon. According to the CHOR case worker who was there with me, the mother most likely requested her hearing be held in front of a judge and not a magistrate. Thus, the reason for court again tomorrow. The court appointed guardian said I would not need to bring the baby back to court, that I would be called to bring him in if the judge decided to send him home. I asked the CHOR case worker how likely it was that the judge would send the baby home and she said she didn't know. Fear grips my heart, squeezing it in an unrelenting vice. My throat constricts and I can't catch my breath. I submit to God's plan for me and this baby, but I fear the bone-crushing pain if that plan includes sending the baby home.

When I walked into CCYS this afternoon, the baby's mother was sitting there, only I didn't know it was her. She kept staring at the baby but made no move to talk to me or see him. I only assumed it was her because of the way she stared at me and the baby. I felt badly answering questions others in the room asked. I felt bad for her. It wasn't too long before her attorney showed up and they sat in the hallway talking. I didn't see them again after court. The mom never tried to see the baby or ask to hold him.

So, other than fearing court and not sleeping, things are going well. The baby is very sweet and not overly fussy. I love kissing his tiny soft cheeks and stroking his dark soft hair. In other words, I'm in love. I have two beautiful boys and my only hope and my only prayer is that they can both be mine forever.