Surviving Evil...my story

Last night I watched Investigation Discovery's new show, Surviving Evil. It is a show about women who have come face-to-face with evil and somehow survived. The show's host, Charisma Carpenter, told her story last night. She and her friends were attacked by a serial rapist who turned out to be a local policeman. Aside from the fact that it was just harrowing story, it reminded me of my experience with a good cop gone bad.

It was Halloween night 2009. It was a unique day because Halloween actually fell on a Saturday and that night it was also "fall back" Daylight Savings Time. I had worked that morning at Food Lion as a cashier. While at work a fellow cashier collapsed during her shift. I was a fairly new employee at the time so when the manager told me I would be covering the girl's shift for the next day I just accepted, even though I had other plans. I was going to be celebrating Halloween with my friends in Virginia Beach, about an hour and a half from my house. The original plan was for me to stay the night there and come home the next day. With the change in my work schedule I made a decision to drive home that same night. With the extra hour of time on my side I figured it would work out fine.

The drive over was uneventful. Upon arriving to the house party I had two Mike's Hard Lemonades and stopped drinking at 8pm. I had a fun night. I left to head home at 3am (really 4am, so 6 hours after I had stopped drinking) to drive home. I was a new driver at the time. Only having had my license for a few months. I got confused and turned around in the dark in the downtown Norfolk area. I was looking for the tunnel that would put me on the right road home.

I was vaguely aware there was another car on the road. I honestly couldn't tell you if I noticed anything about the car just that I occasionally looked in my rear view mirror and saw headlights. It was Halloween, it was nothing unusual for other cars to be on the road at that time of night on any given day. After some searching I was able to find the tunnel and felt confident that the remainder of the drive would be smooth sailing. Again, there were headlights following me, but at the time I had no idea what that would mean for me. I wasn't being followed closely and I was on a main interstate.

I had my music turned up and driving about 5 miles over the speed limit. Having driven that stretch of highway multiple times since then I know that I did nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, most people would probably attest that I was driving slower than the norm. The only thing I did wrong that night was be a single woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. I took a curve in the road wider than necessary and crossed the center line. I was cognitive of this, but the only other car on the road was behind me a decent distance so I wasn't endangering anyone. About two miles further down the road I saw red and blue lights flashing in my rear view mirror.

I pulled to the side of the road and waited for the policeman to appear at my door. A million different things were going through my mind: I had been speeding, but barely. I had been drinking, but had stopped hours ago. But the main thing on my mind was how incredibly unobservant I had been. How had I not realized the car that had been following me for the better part of 15-20 miles had been a police car?

I had my license and registration in hand when the officer arrived at my passenger door. Perhaps I hadn't watched enough police television shows or it was my lack of experience as this was my first traffic offense in my short driving life. The next thing that surprised me was that this "officer" was not in uniform. He was dressed in civilian clothes. The first thing he said was "You should always ask to see a badge when you get pulled over." He proceeded to show me a shiny badge. Again, lack of experience but I had no idea what I was looking at. I nodded my head to acknowledge the badge and passed my license and registration. He asked if I had been drinking that night, I admitted that I had but had stopped hours ago. He walked back to his car to run my license and plates.

The biggest concern on my mind at that time was my mom. I had sent her a text to tell her I was headed home and would talk to her in about an hour. She was 3,000 miles away in another state, but we always kept one another abreast of our plans. Still do. I was so worried that she was sitting home panicking...which as it turned out, she was. I wanted to send her a text to tell her I had been pulled over but figured that would only cause her to worry more.

The "officer" returned to my vehicle, this time on the driver's side...again taking me completely by surprise. He still had my license and registration, but had yet to hand them over to me. He had been gone for a decent amount of time. I would guess 7-10 minutes. Again, lack of experience but I was certain that was a very long time to run a check. Especially on a truck that was nearly new and a driver who had only been licensed for a few months. He proceeded to tell me that he had called highway patrol and they would not tow my car, but he couldn't in "good faith" allow me to continue driving home, another 40 miles down the road. I asked for a breathalyzer knowing I would pass, but he made an excuse about it being a busy night and he wasn't able to call another officer.

Before I go on, I feel the need to defend my actions. You never know how you will react when you feel threatened. It is easy to judge and say "oh you should have done ___" but the fact of the matter is that, you have no idea. Your brain is trying to process the situation while a million thoughts are screaming to be heard, your heart is racing, your hands are shaking, and you just go through the motions. I don't remember consciously making a decision one way or another. I went into auto pilot and tried to be as compliant as possible. Also, my grandpa was a retired state policeman. I was raised to believe that policemen were good and helpful.

The "officer" told me to move my vehicle further onto the shoulder, which is something that really struck me later on. Clearly if I was intoxicated as he indicated, he couldn't possibly think putting me back behind the wheel of my vehicle was a good idea. I did as I was told. He then told me to get into his vehicle and he would drive me to a location where a friend could come pick me up. He already knew that my husband was out to sea with the Navy as the vehicle was registered in his name, he also knew I had just left a party where I had been with friends. I think he was counting on the fact that I didn't have anyone to call.

I collected my purse and keys, then it hit me. I was not dressed to be out. That night I had been dressed as a Go-Go Girl. I had worn yellow booty shorts underneath. For the drive home I was only wearing those shorts and a University of Idaho sweatshirt, again indicating I was very likely far from my family. As I climbed out of my vehicle he made a comment that it was a chilly night for such an outfit. I remember saying over and over "I understand" to most anything he said. At one point he got mad and said "I don't need you to understand!"

As I climbed into his vehicle I was very aware of the non-police cruiser. The red and blue lights I had seen in my rear view mirror were that of a dash light. There was a small handheld radio, but nothing wired in the vehicle. The vehicle was an older maroon sedan. That was when it really struck me, I was in a very dangerous situation...one that I may not survive.

He drove us to a gas station on Highway 58 and backed into the spot facing away from the building. He instructed that I call a friend to come pick me up. By the grace of God I was able to get in contact with my husband's coworker's pregnant wife. She said she would come pick me up. I knew I was in trouble because we were on a different highway than the one that we drove to our houses. We both lived outside the city limits and accessed our houses via a parallel highway. I was afraid to tell her this on the phone because I didn't want the "officer" to have any more information on my habits.

My friend had a 45-60 minute drive ahead of her. At this point I went into survival mode. I remember watching a daytime talk show about a girl who had been abducted who constantly talked about herself and her family to her abductor, making herself a real person in his mind not just another girl on the street. I did the same. I talked about everything! My family, various jobs, my dog...anything I could think of to help pass the time and keep him focused on the conversation and not whatever he had had in mind when he started following my vehicle earlier that evening.

Finally I received a call from my friend. She couldn't find us. Just as I expected. The "officer" was getting irritable and had me tell her to take a nearby exit and some further instructions on where she could meet us. I realized the directions I had passed along to her were not directions to the gas station where we were presently parked, but rather an industrial park that was certainly empty at that time of night on a weekend.

As he put the car in drive he made a comment about me not being intoxicated at all, which I wasn't. But then went on to say that no good deed goes unpunished. I was unsure then, and still am now, about who had done or was to do the deed. He stayed off the highway and took side roads to the industrial park, about 13 miles down the road. He wouldn't speak to me and I was running out of things to say. I kept my eyes forward and thought about all I had to lose, and whether or not I was ever going to get away from him.

At last, I saw headlights coming towards us. When I recognized my friend I all but threw myself out of his vehicle. As I was rounding his vehicle, he called my name. I reluctantly turned back towards him. He was holding a business card out the window, and said "If you think I did anything wrong tonight. Feel free to contact my supervisor."

I ran to my friend's car and climbed in as fast as I could. I thanked her profusely, knowing she had likely saved my life. I immediately called my mom to tell her what had occurred. God bless my friend, she exited the highway and flipped around to go back and get my truck. She instructed me to tailgate her home just to be certain he wasn't on the lookout for me.

I made it home unscathed, but that night could have ended so much worse. I could feel the "officer's" evil intentions. He was not looking to do a 'good faith' deed. That night I didn't sleep at all. Nor was I very efficient at my job the next morning. The "officer" knew where I worked. I looked up at every white male that walked through the doors just knowing it was going to be him. I told my boss what had occurred if ever he did come into the store. I remember crying whenever I was alone and feeling completely unsafe no matter where I was.

I will forever be in debt to my friend. I say by the grace of God I was able to contact her because just days after she came to my rescue she changed all their phone numbers.

With help and support my from step-dad in Connecticut, I did contact the "officer's" supervisor. The "officer" had told his supervisor that I had crossed or touched the center line some twenty times. If that was the case he should have pulled me over long before he did. As it turns out he was not a police officer at all, rather a drug and alcohol counselor for teens. His supervisor was very apologetic and said he would support me if I wanted to take the case to court. Since I was unharmed I chose not to face him, but rather to have a letter put in his file in the case that he ever tried to detain another solo woman again.

That stretch of highway is pretty desolate, with just some junkyards, industrial parks, a swamp, and a private airport. I absolutely believe he knew what he was doing and targeted me. I am all too aware of what could have happened. I am so thankful it didn't. There are days I forget it ever happened, then there are times when it hits me like a sack of bricks.

Take it from me, if you are ever pulled over you have the right to call 911 and verify that the officer pulling you over truly is an officer. You always have the right to stay in your car with the doors locked until another officer arrives. And you should absolutely turn on your flashers and drive to a well lit area before engaging with the officer. Protect yourselves because you truly just never know.

Here's to therapy, surgery, and surving it all!

If you follow my blog you know that Tucker was tongue tied at birth and had an anterior revision. As time went on I began to develop suspicions that he was also suffered from a posterior tongue tie. Last week he saw a pediatric ENT who confirmed my suspicions. He ordered a feeding evaluation to determine which parts of Tucker's tongue/mouth/throat were working properly and those which were not. Yesterday we went to visit the SLP who discovered additional issues, including a weak jaw (possibly related to his brachycephaly,) weak bite, lack of lateral tongue movements, lack of tongue muscle definition, raw throat (from swallowing food whole,) and possible aspiration of food. She has ordered 6 months of feeding/swallowing therapy to develop the muscles in his tongue 3 times a week. At 2 months into the therapy Tucker will be reevaluated by the ENT to schedule a posterior tongue tie revision. Then continue the remaining 4 months of therapy to learn how to use his freed tongue.

This was very overwhelming news to process. No one wants their child to have something wrong. The therapist assured me that I had done everything right by what I was feeding him, how I was feeding him, and recognizing there was a problem. Of course, that was nice to hear, but at the same time hearing something is wrong with your child is a tough blow. She encouraged me to continue offering him a wide variety of foods and textures, as I have been, but to change the way in which it is presented to him. From now on he is only allowed to have pieces of food that are safe to be swallowed whole. So while he can continue to eat peaches, pineapple, okra, carrots, lima beans, etc they need to be diced to about the size of a grain of rice. His food needs to be presented in different locations on his tongue. He is no longer allowed to spoon feed himself as he slurps rather than eats, so now I need to spoon feed him putting direct downward and backward pressure on to his tongue. My biggest obstacle is going to be getting past my fear of gagging him. The therapist assured me that gagging is good and choking is bad, unfortunately I have a fear of doing either.

<Warning a slight bit of negativity>
Last night I really struggled with the "why me?" and "why my baby?" questions. Between his helmet therapy and this new therapy, I will be traveling 300-400 miles a week. Even though I was told that none of these problems could be avoided and it was nothing I have done wrong, it felt like a sucker punch to the gut.
<End negativity>

I will tackle these new issues head on and I vow to do all the at-home exercises as directed. I know that there is nothing better than early intervention so I will tackle this with the same positive attitude I did when he began his helmet therapy.

Thankfully there are positives in all of this, Nick and I have the insurance and resources to address and resolve the issues. Due to the postponing of surgery there is a better chance that Nick will be home to endure it all with me. Also, because of the therapy his tongue will be stronger and he will learn to speak properly the first time around rather than having to relearn things later on.

<Here comes the bragging>
Tucker was such a good boy at the therapist yesterday. I was so proud. He had already had a screwy day because we had gotten up early to drop my Mama off at the airport and he only had one nap. The therapist told me to just allow Tucker to get familiar with the room. I set him down and he walked right over to the high chair like he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. He allowed her to put different tools and foods in his mouth and was a perfect gentleman the whole time. When he was finished eating and it was time for her and I to discuss things he played quietly with the toys in her office. I was one proud mama! This morning he did very well with the exercises during breakfast.

<More bragging, change of subject>
Tucker's potty training is going fantastic. He is the smartest little boy I know. Last week after we had been to the zoo and he had been tortured (twice!) at the ENT's office, when we arrived home he walked right back to his potty and sat down. Then the next morning he peed, as he usually does in the morning, but then he continued to sit there and did all of his business. Diapers are quickly becoming a thing of the past. On a few occasions I have taken him on errands and he has remained dry. He definitely understands the process and has taken to it so well. I am very proud! Since we started potty training less than 2 months ago he has peed successfully in the potty 88 times and pooped 21 times.



<End bragging>

PS Sometimes I wonder if I am becoming too salty, perhaps maybe I am on my way to being cured like a country ham? LOL :)

My baby is a sponge!

**WARNING**

This blog post is basically a big old brag post about my baby. If you aren't interested in reading that sort of thing please close this window now.

 

Tucker is 13 1/2 months old and is just an absolute sponge. He has learned so much in his little life. I started potty training him on accident as you can read earlier in my blog, he has taken to it like wildfire. Since June 9th he has peed on the potty 40 times and pooped 9 times. He often wakes up dry or mostly dry from his naps. Today I had to run to the grocery store, he wanted to come and was only in underwear. I decided if he had an accident it would just be an opportune time to wash his carseat cover. Much to my surprise he stayed dry the whole time! I was so proud. If you say "Tucker it's time to go potty" he runs over and lifts the lid to his potty. He isn't quite tall enough to sit down by himself and he needs assistance pulling down his underwear, but he is definitely getting the idea. He understands the "urge" feeling and he has started pointing it out to alert us. During the day he only wears underwear while we are at home. He is still in diapers during naps and nighttime. This in no way means I am avoiding cleaning up the puddles or that it isn't damn hard work. I realize early potty training is often more about training the parents rather than the child, but I don't foresee it being any easier down the road and Tucker is no worse for the wear as far as I can tell. 

I have also started teaching him sign language now that he is more aware of what he wants. He responds to the sign for "potty"and signs "more", "eat", and "all done" on his own. He is such a little parrot/copycat I am taking advantage of this time to feed his little brain.

Sometimes I am just overcome with pride looking at the little boy he is growing up to be. I am so proud of be his "Ma!" I look forward to more of our adventures as time goes on.

**End brag**

PS A big thank you goes out to my Mama for all her help, guidance, and encouragement.

Tucker's Tongue Tie Tongue Twister

Tucker was born severely tongue tied, it was the first thing the nurse said while assessing him at birth. At 2 1/2 weeks of age I took him to see a pediatric ENT who confirmed the tie and clipped his frenulum. Tucker did have better suction with his pacifier, but we still struggled with breastfeeding. He would also collapse bottle nipples of all flow speeds and varieties. He also always been a drooly baby, but that is hardly an indication of anything as he is a baby and drooling is normal.

In the last 6-8 months I have seen the limits of Tucker's tongue. He is unable to stick out his tongue to any degree, in fact I have never seen his tongue come past his bottom teeth. He tries to imitate me sticking out my tongue, but all he can do is curl the sides of his tongue. He has no elevation in the front or center. When he cries his tongue becomes rippled and again does not rise in the least. His tongue is not capable of reaching the roof of his mouth which will affect his ability to make the l, r, t, d, n, th, sh, and z correctly.

I called and scheduled a consultation with the pediatric ENT who clipped his original tie. My current suspicion is that he was born with both an anterior (front) and a posterior (back) tongue tied. The anterior tongue tie is easily seen and diagnosed whereas the posterior is harder to diagnose. If Tucker does indeed have a posterior tongue tie it is corrected by laser surgery, usually outpatient provided there are no complications. Then after a few days of recovery, some tongue stretching exercises, and possible speech therapy he should have all the lingual movements of a "normal" child.

I am not opposed to more conservative treatment such as speech therapy without surgery, but I do want an answer as I am certain something isn't correct where his tongue is concerned. I have waited, watched, and compared his tongue to other children for a year and he is definitely restricted. I think I am doing the right thing in having another consultation. I want to give him the best chance available in all aspects of life.

His appointment is Monday July 8th at 2pm. I could have been seen sooner, but my Mama will be here during that time and I will certainly need and want her support especially if Tucker does require surgery. She supported me during Tucker's first tongue clipping. Tucker slept through it and I cried, go figure.

Accidental Potty Training...Success!

Tucker has recently started to walk and is pretty steady on his feet. I decided I would buy a potty chair and get him accustomed to it, even if that just meant sitting him on it during diaper changes and before his bath. That is exactly what I did and low and behold he has taken to the idea like wildfire. The first day he peed right after his nap, the second day he peed 3 times and pooped twice, today he has peed and pooped twice each. He isn't alerting me with words that he needs to go because he isn't talking yet, but he is showing me physical signs. He is wearing big boy underwear (not even trainers) during the day when we are home.



I have no great expectations for Tucker. We are taking it day by day. He will happily sit on the potty for a few minutes at a time; if he goes potty we cheer, if not no big deal. I have read all the studies about how training too early can be detrimental or make the process last longer, that may be true...I don't know. What I do know is that aside from his nighttime diaper I have nothing in his diaper bin. So if nothing else, I am saving myself from dirty diapers. Tucker is showing no signs of stress or resistance, so assuming everything continues in a positive manner we will keep potty training.


My mama had me trained before I could talk using much the same method I am using now. I know it can be done and she has been great with supportive words and tips. Nick is completely on board with the process. He will sit on the floor with Tucker reading him stories and handing him toys to play with. Here is to our continued success!

As Tucker turns one

Tucker turns one year old tomorrow. It has been quite the journey, but I am not sad. I would much rather have the years fly by than experience the alternative of never getting to celebrate his birthdays and milestones.

 It has been a very busy year. Tucker began teething at 15 weeks and subsequently has 14 teeth cut 1 day shy of his first birthday. Tucker has not been the healthiest child. He contracted RSV which then developed into pneumonia. After a couple weeks of 3-hour interval breathing treatments and a round of antibiotics he was finally starting to feel better; then came dual ear infections. He recovered then spiked a 105 fever upon returning from a trip home to visit my Mama. After an Easter Sunday trip to the emergency room and a half dozen tests we were sent home with "inconclusive results" about a week later he broke out in a rash and it was confirmed that he had Roseola. He kept the pattern going by developing another set of ear infections. We had a week or two of no sickness only to break out in a rash again. I took him to the doctor and was told he had symptoms of both Fifth Disease and Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease. Nearly 4 weeks later he still has the cheek rash. The poor kid can't catch a break and is currently suffering from hay fever. Additionally, he is still undergoing helmet therapy. His soft spot has stopped closing. There are potential issues associated with this, but as long as we continue to get positive head growth I am okay  with the prolonged therapy and frequent appointments.

Often times I wonder why Tucker has so many issues and is frequently sick, but then I remind myself that Nick and I are able to care for him and deal with the emotional toll where others may not. I know the situation could be much worse, so I tend to just feel very blessed and enjoy each new days as it arrives.

Tucker's birthday party was supposed to be held yesterday, however due to my Great-Great's passing Tucker and I traveled to Idaho to attend the funeral, and are presently spending time with some family in Nevada before returning home. I have rescheduled Tucker's birthday party for the end of June. It's okay to have a 13 month birthday party, right? Of course it is!

 Motherhood has been filled with challenges and rewards. I don't think it is something you can prepare yourself for, it is a learn as you go process. Tucker is such a wonderful baby. He is extremely well behaved and very social. He has started walking (quite unsteadily) and is trying to talk. Each day I am amazed at all he has learned. I feel so honored to be his "Ma!"

I am looking forward to all his birthdays yet to come and all the milestones in between.

From the tap, to the keg, to the bottle: my experience with b...

...breastfeeding! What did you think I was going to say? Beer?

I am sad to say that my breastfeeding experience has come to an end with Tucker. From the instant Tucker was born we had issues, we had incompatible blood types which caused his blood sugar levels to plummet after the umbilical cord was cut. On top of that, he was severely tongue-tied. The nurses tried to get him to latch, but they were unsuccessful. They checked his blood sugar levels and said they would have to give him some nutrients. Initially he received formula from a syringe only, but after more unsuccessful attempts at getting Tucker to latch he was supplemented formula via a bottle throughout our duration at the hospital. One the last day the lactation consultant was back at work after the holiday weekend. She helped me get Tucker to latch, but recommended that I get his tongue clipped to aid the process and his life down the road. She also recommended a nipple shield, what a lifesaver!

On the second day home my milk came in, then breastfeeding became easier in the sense that Tucker didn't have to work so hard to get my milk to flow, but more difficult in the fact that I had anxiety every time he needed to nurse. I would get restless legs and would want to do doing anything besides nurse him. If he stopped to swallow or take a breath I would lay him down. This was detrimental, of course, because he would be hungry and want to nurse again 10 minutes later.

I had been pumping so Nick could help with feedings and to have milk available to give to Tucker when he wasn't latching well. My Mama suggested I just pump instead of getting frustrated with nursing. I decided to give it a shot. It was horribly painful at first and I saw a major decrease in my milk supply. I did some techniques including power pumping (10 minutes of pumping, 10 minutes of not pumping for an hour, every other hour) I took handfuls of vitamin supplements, I ate the milk-producing foods, and I drank the tea. This allowed me to make enough milk to bottle feed breastmilk...then we went on a weekend vacation in triple digit summer heat.

My milk supply dropped again, upon returning home I gave in and fed Tucker some formula to supplement the pumped breastmilk. Much to my surprise he didn't die or have any adverse reaction. I realize how crazy that sounds, but breastfeeding his heavily promoted and I knew that I was just going to be the perfect (haha) breastfeeding mama, turns out I wasn't. I'm certain I had postpartum depression which was centered around feeding Tucker.

After my Mama left and Tucker's tongue had been clipped I decided to give nursing another chance, much to my surprise Tucker did great with it! Then he cut 2 teeth at a time every 3-4 weeks. After his 4th set came in he was in too much pain and self-weened. I was, and still am, devastated. Everything had been going so well. I tried to pump to keep up but never produced enough. I continued pumping and supplementing formula. Then came the day when I wasn't producing anything during my pumping sessions. At just shy of 7 months our breastfeeding journey had come to an end.

I know I gave it my very best effort and did all I could to breastfeed successfully. It was a very big learning experience for me and I feel confident that I will be even more successful the next go around. If nothing else Tucker can brag that he had milk straight from the tap, pumped from the keg, and out of a bottle.