Many years ago I experienced a situation involving a little boy...probably about two years old. He had been acting "two" most of the day, so his mother was frustrated. She called her live-in-pay-the-bills boyfriend and complained about HER son's behavior a few times throughout the day. To me, that seemed pretty normal.
But, later that night (about 8-10 hours after Mom had complained) the boyfriend came home from work. He walked into the one bedroom in the apartment where Mom, little boy and older sister were sleeping. All three in the same bed...the only bed in the apartment.
Boyfriend was angry. Even all those hours later. He was angry about the little boy's behavior...although from what I learned, it wasn't "bad" it was just being "two". That man grabbed the little boy by his feet, yanked him from a dead sleep in the middle of the night, and drug him to the living room. He took off his belt and began beating the little boy.
That little boy began to scream in pain...and confusion, I'm sure. I believe that little boy had no recollection of any wrong doings many hours before....and was peacefully sleeping next to his mother until the beating began. That little boy screamed so violently that it woke the neighbors...who had to break down the apartment door and pull the boyfriend away from the little boy. They restrained boyfriend until the police arrived.
I arrived last...a few minutes after several others had arrived. Boyfriend was in handcuffs and mom was in the apartment with her two kids. I walked in to find the little boy sitting by himself...sobbing. That mother wasn't comforting him. She wasn't even angry at the boyfriend. She stood there very calmly talking to an officer as if nothing had happened.
I knelt down next to the little boy and put my arms out towards him. All he was wearing was a wet diaper...I could see large red welts from the belt buckle all over his tiny frame (even under his diaper). He carefully crawled into my arms and laid his little body against mine. I picked him up and I comforted him the best I could. I wanted to save him from his life, but I didn't know how.
I stood next to the little boys mother while I rocked her moaning son in my arms. He never once reached for her. He never once lifted his head from my shoulder to look at her. I asked her why she didn't stop her boyfriend from hurting her baby. Her response disgusted me, but it made me understand her son's need for my comfort and not hers. She told me if her boyfriend was hitting the little boy, that meant he wasn't hitting her. I asked her why she stayed...and she shrugged her shoulders. She said they needed a place to sleep and she didn't work because she had two kids.
I could feel myself getting angry...I asked why she wasn't willing to take the beating if it meant her baby boy wouldn't have to endure it.
There was no answer.
She had nothing more to say.
It finally came time for me to go. I placed the little boy back on the couch and had to leave. He looked up at me with huge brown eyes and tears streaming down his dirty face. He cried harder as I walked away without him. I didn't want to, but I was told to I had to go.
I have wondered about that little boy almost every day since I held him in my arms late that night about eight years ago. Most kids are afraid of the dark uniform...worn by the people who come to take their parents away. This little boy was more afraid of his own mother...he was only two years old and already knew she wouldn't protect him.
I've never understood why someone would hurt a child...and I don't mean a swat, a spank on the butt, time out, a smack on the mouth, etc...I mean HURT a child. On purpose.
I've seen some things at work that shouldn't happen to children. Those are the calls that don't go away. You can't make jokes to make it funny instead of awful. They are just horrible...and there is no way to erase it from your brain.
That mother has bothered me since her shoulder shrug. I didn't have my own child back then, but I couldn't understand her behavior.
I still don't.
I finally have my own child. I have thought about that mother several times since I gave birth to my son. Everything in me changed in an instant...Isn't that normal?
I have had to clip the baby's fingernails since the day we brought him home from the hospital. He loves to touch his face...and I swear his nails grows ridiculously fast. I have to clip his tiny fingernails several times a week. And he hates it. HATES it. He cries and wiggles and fusses until I'm done and can comfort him. I even bought baby sized nail files to help our situation, but they don't always fix the problem.
Mike brought Blip to me in bed this morning. He laid my sweet baby next to me wrapped in his favorite poka-dot blanket. I instantly received a huge smile as soon as he saw me. We laid there coo-ing at each other for several minutes...until Blip's eyes became heavy and he started to fall asleep. I pulled him closer because he kept opening his eyes briefly. As soon as he would see me, he smiled and his eyes closed again. This happened several times. He usually naps in his bed, so this was a rare occasion...and I loved it.
After some time passed, I could tell he was not going to sleep comfortably where we were (or for long enough), so I scooped him up and went downstairs and made a bottle. While all of this was happening, he was trying to shove his entire fist into his mouth. Over and over...not very successful, but never giving up.
He started out loving his binki, but now has mixed feelings. He stopped taking it all together a couple weeks ago, so we went out and bought just about every binki the baby store sells. He took ONE of the eight or so we bought, but after that night he doesn't really care for it...and went back to the original binki. Some days he loves that thing and other days he couldn't care less about it. He does, however, want something to suck on in his mouth....all the time. He hasn't quite figured out how to get just his thumb in there...or just a finger or two, so he is stuck with a fist full of fingers that don't all fit.
It's pretty funny to watch. He is very dedicated to getting that fist in there, but he just can't seem to do it. He obviously got his stubborn side from his dad. :)
Anywho...I noticed two of his fingernails were really long. I was actually surprised how long they were. I grabbed the nail clippers from the bathroom before we sat in his rocking chair. Since he hates to have his nails clipped, I thought I would try doing it while he was eating. This worked for the first nail. By the second one he figured out my trick.
All of this today made me think of the little boy with brown eyes and a dirty face...sleeping peacefully and then in the blink of an eye took a beating I'm sure he has the scars to remember it by.
I know I would take any amount of pain before I would ask/let my child to take it. There is no question. And I would do things I can't write down to anyone that ever harms my son. Isn't that the natural part of being a mom? That instinct is very strong...I don't know how some people seem to be missing it altogether.
I love that my son has known me since before he was born. I love that I can comfort him better than anyone else. I love that he makes his head touch mine when I pat his back after he eats. I love that he likes to hold my fingers (one in each hand) when I feed him. I'm thankful his tiny finger will heal and be just fine...and I'm thankful it wasn't any worse.
(All these pictures are from tonight when we were getting ready for bed. I guess he wasn't hurt too badly...he looks pretty darn happy to me. Thank goodness.)
6 comments:
today I was in wal mart smelling different perfumes and somehow when I took the top off one I sprayed my poor baby right in the face. I totally freaked out. She was crying.I was hysterical thinking I had blinded her. Luckily she's fine too but I still haven't forgiven myself. It was awful. I've also clipped both of my older daughter's fingers when they were babies. I have to wait til violet is in a deep sleep to do hers. Baby nails grow way too fast!
I love the part of your story about holding the little boy. That feels very... pure... to me. I have no doubt he remembers it, whether he remembers it or not. :) And some day he'll thank you for it.
I hope the Blip's finger heals quickly. And that you've forgiven yourself. ;)
I did the same exact thing to one of the boys when they were newborns, too. :( I felt terrible!
P.S. I love reading what you wrote about hugging that poor little boy. You have a job that suits you and you do it so well.
This post brought tears to my eyes. I felt anger at the brown eyed boy's mother and her boyfriend. I felt a huge swell of my heart for you and your compassion over that little boy, as well as your pain and love for blip. I love these pictures of him. And, I look forward to reading more of your motherhood journey.
I remember when you were on that scene that night. The same way you described it to me shortly after you left that scene, is the same feelings I see you have hear. I felt the exact same way. Remember when I told you about the little boy that was horribly burned by that mother when she dropped the boiling hot food on his naked body and my partner and I were first on scene. I had to leave the room and let my partner take care of it for about six minutes....while I went outside and cried. I will never forget that feeling of hurt on that little boys face or his screams of pain. I can never imagine what I would do If someone ever hurt our child. Our job really makes you appreciate the love of a child and how blessed we really are with Cody.
ooops, that last comment was by MR. BUV. :)
Post a Comment