Family Tragedy IV

Nathan admitted to the detective that he had shaken the baby. Three times. And he went to jail with bail set at $150,000.00.

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The detective from the Special Victims Bureau interviewed both Amelia and me since we were the ones who took care of Elijah previous to his parents. After hearing what we had to say, he told us that they had stopped by Hilary and Nathan's apartment while Hilary was at work and picked Nathan up for questioning. They were about to give him a polygraph test when he broke down and confessed. They administered the test anyway, which confirmed the truth. Elijah's daddy had shaken him violently.

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We were surprised, but then again, we weren't. Our only point of reference was what we saw at our house---a gentle and loving father who showed nothing but sweetness and tenderness toward his infant son. However, we had gathered over the last year that Nathan never learned to express his emotions properly, and that on the outside he was quiet and mild, but on the inside there was something entirely different going on. Was it his upbringing? Perhaps. He did say that at his house they weren't allowed to voice their opinions and that they simply did not discuss things. Is there something else going on as well? Marital stress? Probably. Financial stress? Certainly. The stress of suddenly being entirely responsible for another person when you scarcely know how to be responsible for yourself? Sure. Put all those things together and you have a recipe for absolute disaster.

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That was three weeks ago. The D.A. has yet to present the case to the judge. We're expecting that he'll offer Nathan a plea bargain, but details regarding his actual sentence are unknown. It could be that he will be released soon after his sentencing. Or it could be up to nine or ten years in prison.

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Meanwhile, we watch Hilary struggle. She struggles to function. She struggles with her own mind, her love for her son, her love for her husband, and her anger and confusion and probably a thousand other emotions. She struggles to find a support group outside her family that will help her make good decisions and get through this impossible time. It is painful to watch.

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All of you praying friends out there, pray for Hilary. She's the one that needs divine assistance the most.

Family Tragedy III

The days following Elijah's release from the hospital were packed with a plethora of appointments. They were mainly medical and social services appointments. Claire was the one who shouldered the brunt of these responsibilities. These first couple of days after the hospital were very difficult emotionally for us all; for me even more than while he was in the hospital. Adrenaline has a way of keeping you going, and those daily trips to the hospital somehow held me together.

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But then Claire, Giancarlo, and I all succumbed to the stresses of the whole situation and we had a blowout of sorts. This pushed me right over the edge and I spent a day and half in the depths of despair, mourning the whole nightmare. I mourned for the baby, I mourned for his parents, I mourned for us, but mostly I mourned the destruction of this little family that we have worked so hard to help get on their feet over the last year. Just when things started to look up for them--they both finally got their high school diplomas/equivalency, Hilary had a promising new job, they seemed to be happy and adjusting to life as parents. That day I scrolled through all of my posts that had to do with them, starting with Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Nathan and Hilary, and the zany outtakes from that day, then the big news that came with The Jason Show Shocker. Of course with that came the grandpa naming contest and the results. And then all of the obligatory pregnant posts like It's Crowded in Here, and The False Labor Limerick, and the proud grandpa posts such as Our Grandson and I've Finally Joined the Cast. Then---BAM! It all went straight to hell.

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Hilary and Nathan distanced themselves from everyone. We rarely saw them, and when we did, they seemed to be quite emotionally detached from the whole thing. It was as though they were purposely cutting themselves off from the rest of us and from Elijah as a defense mechanism and a matter of survival. In hindsight, I'm sure that's exactly what they were doing.

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Soon we were contacted by a detective and an investigative social worker. They made appointments with us and we tried to carry on as usual, wondering what would become of our family.

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Then one day well before our appointment, Hilary called me and said a detective was on his way over to talk to me and to Amelia.

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The things he told us were beyond startling, but yet, in a sense, expected.

Family Tragedy II

That week in the PICU was nothing but questions.

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Medical questions: What exactly were Elijah's injuries? Will those injuries leave any permanent damage? Is there any way these injuries could have been sustained by something other than shaking? How long will he be in the hospital? Is this continual vomiting due to the injury or just because he's always barfy? How long will this IV be stuck to his foot? How much pain is he in?

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Department of Social Services questions: Where is Elijah going to go? Will they just allow Claire to take him, or will he be put into the foster system? Will he and Claire be allowed to stay with us in our home? How long before everybody's names will be cleared and removed from the "suspect" list? When will the state allow Claire to go back home to Nevada? When, if ever, will Elijah be reunified with his parents?

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And legal questions: Since nobody is accepting blame, how will they find out who did this? And when they do, what will the punishment be? Who is going to jail? How long is this whole process going to take? And of course, the most haunting questions of all: Who did this to our sweet little baby? Who could possibly have been so angry as to take it out on an innocent, helpless infant? Why? Why?? Why???

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And so began the overwhelming onslaught of medical, legal, and DCFS workers that were to be involved in a case surrounding a blue-eyed, bald 12 pound baby boy.

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In the hospital Elijah was seen by several specialists. The neurosurgeon and pediatric neurologist, along with the opthamologist, determined that Elijah's brain injuries involved an acute subdural hematoma, retinal hemorrhaging, and abnormal EEG results unrelated to the subdural hematoma, but possibly hailing back to a previous injury. Previous injury?!?! The CAT scans confirmed the existence of a previously broken clavicle. Further examinations were to reveal that he had most likely suffered a broken rib at some point in time as well.

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Each and every specialist agreed that these injuries could only have been deliberately inflicted, but that none of these were life-threatening, and we would only know about any permanent damage as the baby grew up, keeping a close eye on those developmental milestones.

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Our most immediate worry that never left our minds for a second then was that DCFS would not be able to approve Claire to be his caretaker in time, and that he would be put into the foster system. The initial workers DCFS assigned to the case did not make us any promises to give us a clear idea of what was to happen, so those first few days were nerve racking.
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Finally, Elijah's case was assigned to his current social worker. She saw how crucial it was for him to stay out of the system and stay within the family. She did everything in her power to keep the process rolling in a timely manner, and at 5:00 on Friday afternoon, just before Elijah was released from the hospital, she brought the paperwork granting Claire permission to be Elijah's caretaker. She also pulled some strings and made it possible for Claire to stay with her in-laws about a half hour away from our house since our house had not yet been cleared by DCFS, nor had we as we were involved in caring for Elijah within a few days previous to his injuries.

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After leaving the hospital, Claire and I stopped at Gelson's with our grandson to pick up a few things they needed. As I pushed him around in the cart following Claire through the aisles we mused at how surreal it all was. . . we would never have guessed when we first became friends in junior high, nor when we first got married, nor when we agreed to end our marriage, that we would be further involved together in such unimaginable circumstances.

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Family Tragedy

How do you put a family tragedy like ours into written words? How do you launch it into cyberspace without making it seem like sensationalism? How do you protect the feelings of others while still sharing a life-altering event?
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Time and time again, I've sat down at the computer to attempt to share with my friends across the blogosphere what has happened. Time and time again, I've clicked out of "create post" screen of Blogger, unable to do it. I think I'm ready to share now because:
a) So many of you have expressed such genuine concern for me and my family;b) I'm ready to put myself through this written therapy; and
c) If there is any way, no matter how small, that I could assist in raising awareness to keep this from happening to other families, my time posting on the subject is well spent.
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About a month ago, our grandbaby, Elijah, had a seizure while he was being taken care of by his father, Nathan. He called 911 after the seizure and the paramedics rushed him to the emergency room. Elijah's mother, Hilary, was at work. As soon as Nathan informed her, she called us and rushed to the hospital. On our way to the ER, I called Claire, Elijah's grandmother, to let her know. She immediately made preparations to fly down from Seattle, where she was visiting friends.

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After a CAT scan, it became apparent that Elijah had sustained a subdural hematoma--bleeding between the brain and the skull. Either he had a blood disease, he had fallen, or he had been shaken. We were all in shock; I feared the worst. While a social worker interviewed Elijah's parents, Giancarlo and I waited out in the hall, and remembering Elijah's unexplained broken clavicle from a few weeks previous, I knew that this was no accident. My insides twisted and churned as I told Giancarlo what I knew must be true. He did his best to convince me not to jump to conclusions, but this was just too much of a coincidence for me to overlook..Elijah was later transferred to a hospital with a pediatric intensive care unit in Tarzana. Nathan stayed with him that first night as Hilary had just started a new job that they really needed for their survival, so she went into work to ask for permission to take a few days off.
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What was mild-mannered Nathan thinking about that first night as he watched his 3 month old baby laying in the PICU hooked up to monitors, cords, and tubes? What went through his mind knowing that someone had hurt his child so extensively? Did Nathan sleep that night? Did he insist on holding his little baby boy, or did he let the nursing staff take care of him completely?
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Claire arrived early the next morning. Little did she know how the extent of further medical tests would change her life. Little did she know that she would scarcely step foot out of that little hospital room for five consecutive days. Little did she know that she would eat next to nothing for almost a week because the mere thought of the reality of the situation made her literally choke.

Today's Docket

5:45 Wake with a start, heart beating too quickly because of the day's upcoming events

6:00 Shower and dress

6:30 Gulp down coffee

6:45 -7:45 Maneuver down the 5 freeway to the Children's Court in LA with Giancarlo and Hilary in tow.

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7:45 Wander around the courthouse and parking structure to kill time, leery of sitting inside the courthouse for hours upon untold hours. Meet Claire and Elijah in front of the courthouse. Gush at his big grin when he sees me.

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8:30 Get in line to go through metal detectors. Unwillingly listen to the woman behind us in line:

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"Are you Christian? Well, I see the book under your arm, I thought it was a bible. I've got to get into this courthouse. I've got some important information to give to the judge; it will really make a difference in this case. They're accusing my daughter of killing her baby. Well, it was her boyfriend. The baby was premature and he just threw it against the wall. Killed it. They're blaming her. I told that judge not to let her go live with him, after all, he raped her and everything and then he let her just go right back into that apartment with all of those thugs. ."

I nearly put my hands over my ears and sang an off pitch, "lalalalalalalalalalalalala."

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8:45 Sit down with Giancarlo, Claire, Hilary, and Elijah in a giant waiting lobby surrounded by rows of doors of courtrooms. Watch warily as all manner of people who should have never had children enter the lobby area.
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9:00 Tell myself that I will not allow myself to repeatedly gaze around the room in horror. Promise myself that I will not listen to the loud conversations between court-appointed attorneys and clients that surround me.

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9:05 Focus intently on my book.

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9:06 "You've got to get yourself clean and put yourself into a treatment program or the judge will never let you have your kids back again. You've also got to get a job, pay rent, and function as a citizen who contributes to society."

"Ahhhh, man, I know all that shit. Tell me somethin' new."

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9:07 Refocus my thoughts on my book.
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9:10 Watch distractedly as three little boys run amok throughout the waiting area, no parents in sight.
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9:15 Refocus on my book.

". . . and then, she had the baby in the car out of her car seat, with a gun sliding around next to her."
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9:16 Get up with an audible sigh, angry that I have to listen to this stuff.
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9:20 Walk down the hall to the restroom. ". . . he kicked her so hard it broke her ankle."

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9:25 Return to my seat. Small talk with my family. Play with the baby. Wait.
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9:50 Continue waiting. Sigh while party after party are called into department 416.
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10:00 Try to read my book.
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10:05 Look up from my book as a five or six year old comes up to Giancarlo and demands his pencil. "Pencil. Give it to me! Pencil! Watch! Give me watch! Pencil! I want pencil!" Look around in search of his mother. She's sitting across the room, completely oblivious. Giancarlo shifts uncomfortably in seat.
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10:10 Refocus
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10:15 Gaze around the room, forgetting my promises to myself. Wait. Watch while more cases are called in. Wonder when our turn will be.
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10:17 Listen as a lawyer tells a fourteen year older mother of a brand new baby, "You are not allowed to EVER let the baby be alone with your mother. If you do, we will take him away from you. He can stay with the great grandmother, but never, ever your mother."

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10:20 Sigh. Get up and walk around. Play with baby. Get spit up on. Wipe it up. Smile. Elijah laughs at me.

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10:30 Pencil boy returns. Demands Giancarlo's stuff again. Giancarlo has never been afraid of a six year old before. He nonchalantly gets up and walks to the other end of the lobby.

10:35 Wait. Shift. Refocus on book. Sigh. Shift.

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10:45 ". . . you haven't done anything the judge ordered you to do, of course you're not getting your kids back."

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10:50 Stare around the room and make comments to each other about our surroundings.

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10:55 Wait and wait and wait.
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11:30 Giancarlo goes down to the cafeteria to bring food.

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11:45 Gulp pizza down, worried that our turn will come up while we're eating.

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11:50 Watch as attorneys and court workers begin pouring briskly out of departments, assumedly going to lunch. Ask one of the attorneys when our turn would be and listen to a distracted reply, "Oh, it'll be after lunch now. Come back around 1:40."

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11:51 Ask aloud, "These people get TWO HOURS for lunch?"

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11:53 Wonder what we're going to do for two hours since we already gobbled our pizza in a matter of thirty seconds.

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11:55 Wander around the courthouse and grounds and parking garage and stairs and cafeteria, again, trying to kill time.

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12:30 Return to courtroom waiting area. Go to bathroom. As I'm washing my hands, someone in a stall calls out to guy washing his hands next to me:

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"Guillermo, do you have a marker, bitch?"

Guilllermo resonds, "What for? Uh, oh. Right." He pulls out a black sharpie and passes it under the stall. Lots of rustling and movement comes from stall. I'm not sure I get what just happened.

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1:00 Small talk, waiting, shifting, focusing on my book. Read my book, and actually complete one chapter.

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1:30 Listen to Giancarlo's disgusted explanation of a t-shirt he saw a guy wearing on the other side of the waiting room, something to the effect of: "Searching for a Handicapped Girl. The More I Can Fuck, the Better--They Don't Put up a Fight." Shake head in repulsion. But answer him that yes, he really should mind his own business.

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1:45 Wander down the hall back to the restroom. Lift one eyebrow as Pencil Boy and his little brother (still unsupervised) pound on all of the stalls and stick their heads underneath to see the occupants.

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2:00 Wait some more.

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2:05 Look up from my book as an angry man storms out of the courtroom with his wife shouting, among other things,

"They take my kids away from us, two very capable parents, and give them to a foster mother who slaps them around because they ask for an extra piece of toast! Thank you, America! Thank you Mr. Schwarzenegger! Time for a cover-up! The system is failing and it's time to cover it up! I want my civil rights!"

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2:15 Sigh. Shake head. Put book down. Give up on book. Pick up Elijah, who has been characteristically happy the whole day, and walk him around the lobby.

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2:30 Wait. See man with obscene t-shirt from earlier talking to his court-appointed attorney. Learn that he is an alcoholic and he beats his wife and kids. Realize THAT was the shirt he chose to wear to COURT. Giancarlo tells the man's attorney that maybe it would be a good idea for his client if he didn't wear that sort of shirt to COURT.

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2:35 Giancarlo asks bailiff when our turn will be. Bailiff tells him there are four cases left, but he doesn't know what order they'll be called.

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2:40 Watch as another case goes in.

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2:45 And another.

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2:50 FINALLY we get called in. We sit down just in time to hear two things from the judge:

1-"The baby doesn't need to be here, and the relatives don't need to be here."

2-"Due to incomplete reports and lack of time,

this case will be postponed for one month, until August 14th."

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Try the Gazpacho: Single Sentence Soup

Each week The Jason Show sends scouts out into the blogosphere, scouring blogs both well-known and yet-to-be-discovered for those single lines that are attention grabbers. Single sentences that resonate for their element of humor, touch of the bizarre, or ability to provoke thought are prestigiously linked to their author, in hopes that viewers of The Jason Show like you will be able to savor a serving of Single Sentence Soup just as our scouts have.

"Your wait time is approximately 34235345 bazillion minutes."

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". . . nothing spells fun like a camera man filming your ass running around a grocery store."

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"There, on the couch where I left him, he laid, pants undone, with the Boob Job Girl naked and on top of him, doing her best impression of riding a bull, while giving him a personal tour of her plastic surgeon's work, among other things."

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"I have an annoying compulsion to identify the dead animals we pass in the road and/or by the road."

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"I change my sheets weekly and wear clean clothes."

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Episode Three

Due to the dreadful and depressing events of the past few weeks behind the scenes of The Jason Show, the producers have come up with a new recurring segment entitled An Agnostic Counts His Blessings. No matter how bad life can be, no matter how rock bottom you think you can sink, there are always those brighter parts of life that keep our heads above water.

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Blessing # 662

(Please note that the numerical listing of blessings have nothing to do with their order of importance---the numbers are sheerly arbitrary, and they will be large numbers since I'm sure there I have hundreds if not thousands of blessings.)

Seal

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I've had Seal's latest, System, on repeat for days now. There is something about his songs that calms my mind and soothes my soul. Without being sleepy or gushy, he's been there for me for years, during both the happy times and the sad.

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