For one, BB's bun is no longer in the oven. She's also not at home, or even technically in the custody of my Bipolar Brother. She's in rehab, going through withdrawal, thanks to her mom's addiction to prescription drugs. Because she's got scrips and bottles and a cover story (thanks to a timely request for vicodin for braxton hicks contractions), they will probly get baby b back, but not until Christmas at the earliest. Baby rehab is pretty time intensive, apparently.
The more I read about it the worse I feel for baby b. I told my brother that everything's fine, she won't remember a thing, and she's not in danger of dying - but I don't believe a word of it. I can't imagine how spending the first month or two of your life on morphine - screaming, sweating, twitching, and not sleeping or feeding well - could not shape your world view. And there is an increased risk of SIDS from respiratory suppression. And since b's mommy (we'll call her BM) is avoiding rehab (thanks in no small part to the perpetual denial of a family who has seen signs of her addiction for 5 years now), I can't imagine b is going to end up in a home that will meet her needs for quiet and consistency. Seriously, this is a house without doors (cuz BB rips them down in fits of rage) and where an air horn is considered an appropriate way to get the attention of the other girls.
I just hope the social worker interviews my sister. My parents will deny everything, especially cuz my dad has given BM prescriptions in the past - usually for toothaches that always seemed to happen on Friday nights or holidays... But my sister, she's done. She can testify that mommy has stolen drugs from her medicine cabinet (and mine, for that matter), has offered to buy narcotics from a friend who wasn't using them, has been nuts for years...
I just don't get why BM is resisting rehab. She just poisoned her baby. If that wasn't motivation enough, what will keep her clean now? She is at least detoxing, acting less nuts, looking like crap, but how long will that last? She needs help and I don't understand why everyone is so willing to say she'll be fine.
My family is so not normal.
Anyway, that isn't even the biggest news in my life. It's just the most recent.
Six weeks ago my 69 year old mother in law was beaten and raped in her home. I don't even have words. Really. My husband was able to be there for her right afterwards. He was halfway across country driving to move in with me. He turned around, drove 20 some hours straight, and spent a few weeks just being with her. She's a strong woman, glad to be alive. He convinced her to talk to a therapist. She decided to go back to her home. She really didn't have any other option. They haven't caught the guy. They probly won't. She has the best cop on her case (he even put up 5 grand of his own cash for a reward), but his force has an abysmal history of not catching rapists.
But no one is so much worried about catching him. It's all about her healing.
I'd write more, but it's tough to even articulate how it changes your world to have something like this happen. I am humbled, realizing how petty I've been towards her at times. I am frightened, as this reminds me that rape can happen to any of us at any time. I am sad, for my husband who feels so powerless, for a family that was already so broken. I am sickened. I'm sure this guy has had some awful things happen to him to feel the need to do something like this, but it's hard to feel any pity for him. Increasingly I embrace my inner retributivist.
Oh, yeah, and I am in law school. Thus the use of the word "retributivist." Sorry. Next month I get to study the legal ins and outs of rape. Joy. Anyway, I am realizing, as I prepare for exams which are 2 weeks away, that I failed to retain major chunks of information which I studied in the weeks immediately following the rape. That's fine, I can relearn them, but apparently I cannot relearn them without drudging back up all those feelings of helplessness and despair.
So I am here. Darkening your door with my tales of woe.
And that's not even all that has happened since school started 10 weeks ago. My favorite cousin had a stroke, fell off a roof and landed on his head. We're grateful that he is not dead (it wasn't a sure thing), but he is definitely impaired, and, I presume, bankrupt. There's frontal lobe damage, which means a loss of impulse control, and he's living in a bit of his own reality. But he remembers his family and his girlfriend and he's already out of the hospital. So I'm stoked. My favorite part of his story? He insists that I had baby b and that my other brother and I are keeping it on the down low. Some of you may not find being accused of having an incest baby very amusing but, really, it's nice to be on his radar.
Anyway, sorry to dump and run, but I just had to release some of this to the interwebs so I can get back to studying the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure.
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