This Is The Story- Part 3

Part 1 

Part 2 

This part is the hardest to write. It brings back the worst day of my life. The rawest of feelings. Anger -so much so that it was sinful. Still is at times. A period of being lost and helpless. I am already crying just remembering. 

But I choose to remember because it was in this valley that the Lord carried me. He didn't speak to me. He didn't sing His song over me so that I could hear it. He simply carried me. And until you have been in the situation where you can do nothing but pray for the Lord's mercy on your family, you don't know what I am talking about. 

February 14. For me-Valentine's Day will never be the same. 

The day began with Nathan's family coming to our room and visiting. There isn't much to do but stare at the wall and pray for the pain to somehow cease when your 4 month old has broken ribs. So we carried on some small talk and prayed over his little body.

Nathan and I were urged to take a walk because we had not stepped foot out of the room or out of our son's reach in 15+ hours. We needed to hold hands and speak to each other privately. We decided to take their suggestion and began walking. We found ourselves 2 steps inside the gift shop when my mother-in-law called and told me that there was a doctor and a social worker waiting to speak to us. We ended our walk and returned to room 1023.

I wish we had just run away instead. We could never have imagined what we were about to experience.

 A doctor, a social worker, and a nurse practitioner stood on the side of my son's bed and looked at him. The doctor pocked and prodded him. She flipped him all sorts of ways. And he screamed. She did nothing to calm him. So I did the only thing I knew to do and that was get in his ear and whisper, "Shhhhhhhh. Mama is here and Jesus is holding you. Rest in the Lord baby." Over and over again I said this. I missed a lot of what was said between my husband and the professionals until they asked him what happened. The baby had calmed down and I returned to the conversation.

I heard my husband tell the story of what happened. The same story he told me. The same story he told our families. I felt so bad for him. Not only did he have to live it but now he was having to retell it. The social worker took notes the whole time, and the doctor seemed to be in another world.  They asked us personal questions about our jobs and such. When the conversation was coming to a close the doctor told us that babies don't just break ribs from falls. Something more has to happen. And this is when it sank in. They thought my husband had abused our child.

My husband would never hurt our baby. Or anyone for that matter. He is the most compassionate, understanding, calm, and level headed man in my life. He is not a child abuser.

The 3 women left the room and I fell to the floor. I lost it for the first time since being admitted to the hospital. I hit the floor, put my head between my knees, and I wept. A sweet friend happened to be there at the time and she held me and cried with me. I couldn't speak. I could only cry. I couldn't think. I could only cry. And then she began praying. When I couldn't, she did. Oh, how I am thankful for her.

I couldn't hear the Lord but I know that He held me too.

Moments later the room phone rang. It was the social worker. She said that she was sending two case workers from the Department of Child Services and an officer of the Memphis Police Department to our room. Nathan would need to speak to these people. When I hear DCS, I think losing my baby. And I lost my mind again. This time it took Nathan to calm me down.

In short, Nathan told the story of what happened to 2 case workers, an officer, a Lieutenant. He was taken to the police station in downtown Memphis in the back of a cop car where he told his story 2 more times. CSI, thats right-Crime Scene Investigation-, came to our room and took pictures of Camden and Nathan. They went to our house to get photos of the crime scene. Thats what they called my home. Talk about a shot to the heart. At 9:45 p.m I saw him again. We hugged and he reassured me it would all be ok.

The next day was full of tests. Camden had x-ray after x-ray. He blood was taken many times a day. He had a CAT scan and an hour long bone density scan. The doctor on our case even ordered for him to be tested for shaken baby syndrome. This was the hardest one of all for me to watch. They put drops in his eyes that made his pupils dilate. The drops burned his eyes so he screamed. The had to do 3 rounds of drops.

We heard nothing from DCS. It was torture.

Family and friends continued to rally around us. They sat in bed with Camden and read him books. Nathan's best friends knocked on the door one night at 8 o'clock with no warning just to show their support. People prayed with us and for us. We couldn't find the words to go to the Lord. We clung to the Holy Spirit and the promise that when we couldn't say what we needed to, the Spirit groaned for us on our behalf.

On Wednesday night we saw the doctor on our case for the last and final time. She entered the room to deliver the results of the bone scan. We had been told that if the test showed brittle bones then we would be off the hook. We didn't know what to expect. She sat us down, looked us in the eyes, and then began.

"The bone scan revealed 3 additional broken ribs. That brings the count to 7. In the x-ray I see some enzymes in his liver that are elevated. I also saw some spots on his chest that I am concerned about. Babies don't break ribs. Someone has to squeeze them."

And then she said the words that to this day I can not get out of my head. She looked at each one of us. She made a point to make eye contact.

Then she said, "You, or you, did this in a moment of rage."

Thats when it happened. Someone with a professional title said that one of us abused our child. There is no worse feeling in the world.

We were mad.

We were told the next day that we would hear from the DCS workers to let us know what would happen next.

To be continued...