Tuesday, Devon was studying on campus and I was giving Lacy
a bath. Scrubbing her head was normal due to the amount of hair she had and we
all knew her for but this time felt different. Over one side of her head there
seemed to be a bubble. It was above the skull and felt like fluid under the
skin but on the opposite side that had been hit by the door. It worried me so I
called Devon and he came home to check it out. I did a little research online
but we agreed that he would talk to the ENT that he was shadowing the next day.
Wednesday Devon shadowed the doctor as usual and told him
what happened. He didn’t seem too concerned and told us if it didn’t get any
smaller to take her in and if it got any bigger take her in. So we watched it
closely. Thursday, I had taken Lacy to daycare and brought it up with the girls
watching her to watch out for it. When I picked her up a RN was picking up her
son and the girls told her about Lacy’s injury while I was there. The nurse
told me I should take her in. We decided to make an appointment for Friday
afternoon.
Friday:
On Friday I remember that I had a hard time leaving work so
we decided Devon would take her. I won’t ever forget the call saying the
doctors suggested a CT Scan. I left work early and we went to get my four month
old daughter her scan. Listening to Lacy scream as she was held down for the
scan was one of the hardest moments I’ve had as a mother, worrying about all
the potential problems that could have been and her future. After her scan we
went back to the doctor’s office for the results. It was then we were told that
she had a skull fracture but that it seemed that everything else was fine.
There would be no permanent damage. Basically the best news we could possibly
receive. He then followed up by asking how this could have happened again and
then by telling me he was mandated to call CPS.
CPS was something that I thought I was familiar with. I too
was a mandated reporter because I worked with kids with developmental
disabilities. On a somewhat regular
basis we talked about involving them, and recently I had even turned a family
in. So I thought that it was routine, that they would see how it happened and I
was fine. I told myself it was protocol, they would see I loved my child. After
all, it was obvious she was in a good, clean home, well taken care of, provided
for and loved.
Friday night about 7 two police cars showed up with lights
outside our small town apartment complex, followed by a knock. It was the CPS
worker accompanied by the officers because it was an after-hours call. She
looked around our home, asked about us, our family and the details of what
happened. I answered all the questions, and she was very nice and very hopeful.
She and the other two officers waited patiently with me until a detective from
the police department arrived. Thinking this was protocol too, and maybe it
even is…I answered the same questions again and he asked me to go with him down
to the police statement, that he still had a few questions. With the eyes of
the entire town, or so it felt, watching me I followed the detective down to
the police station. I think it was about 8pm. He brought me to the
interrogation room where I waited for what seems like forever. When we began it
was with my background then my husband’s and he was nice, almost charming.
After the initial questions it became a little more intense, he asked me why I
didn’t take my child to the doctor immediately. Questioned every decision I had
made following Monday’s accident. He gave me a baby doll and made me reenact
how it had happened again and again and again. He broke me down to the point of
sobbing, just hoping it would end. Stripped me of any ounce of feeling like the
good mother I thought I was when the day had begun. He told me my daughter’s
skull was fractured and it couldn’t have been the way I said it had
happened. I told him again and again and
again that was the only possible way it had happened. He questioned me if I
thought my husband had done anything to her and finished by telling me that
there was a bookcase in my hall that stuck out into Lacy’s doorway which would
have made it impossible for her to have hit her head the way I said it had
happened, and that I could still go home tonight if I would just tell him the
truth. After about three or four hours of interrogation, I think it was around
midnight that I drove home. I can easily say that I have never felt so low in
my life.
The weekend
The weekend went by semi smoothly. There were many tears but
we thought it may be over. That they had the information they needed to close
the case and maybe it was all routine again.
Monday
I was with my client on Monday morning and I had told a few
people at work, my friends, what had happened. We all agreed it was terrifying
and thought that it was probably over. An hour or two after I began my shift I
was paged to the front, where I was greeted by the detective and his superior.
He asked me if I would consent to full body x-rays of Lacy to look for any
other potentially broken bones. Of course I said yes. After the longest work
day of my life Devon and I took Lacy to the hospital with both detectives and
my new CPS worker that was assigned to “our case”. It was official, we were, I
was, under investigation. The detectives went in and watched the x-rays taken
while I sat in the hall with my CPS worker. She was nice and tried to make me
feel comfortable, but I’m not sure words can describe everything that was going
through my mind. I think I still assumed that it might be routine, that they
would find that everything was okay.
After x-rays, which showed no other signs of anything wrong,
Devon and I were separated. I was driven down to the police station with my CPS
worker, Cassie. Devon was to meet me at the station with Lacy. When we got to
the station I was separated from Cassie as well and I went into the
interrogation room, for the second time. During this time the same detective
met me along with the second. The questioning started out similar to that of
before but took a much shorter time breaking me down again. They asked
questions like “Why should we send Lacy home with you today?” “If you didn’t do
it, did your husband?” “Are you being threatened by someone?” “Did you toss her
on the bed and she bounced and hit her head?” Show me what happened again and
again. “The radiologist says that it had to have been caused by blunt force
trauma, did you hit her?” and “Your story isn’t panning out, don’t lie to us.
It had to have been blunt force trauma, all the doctors agree.” If I said I was
feeling low before it was nothing compared to how I was feeling after the two
hours I spent with the detectives. When I finished it was Devon’s turn. I
remember Cassie trying to talk to me, but mostly holding Lacy for those two
hours, scared of any possibility of her being taken from her home. Cassie asked
if she could make a visit to our home that week. After the trying day we had it
was obvious that it was no longer routine.
Tuesday
On Tuesday, Devon met with a few professors on campus,
telling them what happened and looking for any second opinion that would help
our case. One professor said he would contact a doctor at Primary Children’s in
Salt Lake City about our case. Later that day Cassie dropped by unannounced.
She visited with me, and for the first time I felt like I was being listened
to. She told me that she knew I was sure about what had happened, and asked how
I’d feel going down to Salt Lake City Primary Children’s to see their
specialists because they deal with cases similar to ours every day. She wanted
us to see the specialists. If we would go, Lacy would get her x-rays again,
that we’d meet with a panel that basically decides if we’re abusing our child
and we’d be able to start from scratch. I thankfully agreed.
Feeling uncomfortable in my home because of the recent
events and memories we went to visit an old bishop and his family that night.
They were just like family to us and told us to keep praying and go to the
temple. My husband and he gave me a blessing that night and I think it was the
first time I felt some peace.
Wednesday and
Thursday
The longest days of our lives! Devon took time off school
and his busy schedule to meet with attorneys. First a campus attorney then
another in town. We had different opinions, but were told the same thing. If we
would have said no to going to Utah, Lacy would be taken from us within the
next 24 hours, and that we’d need to go to court immediately. Also, they said if the panel comes out that
we haven’t done anything wrong, the investigation should close, and if we have
nothing to hide we should follow through. But if something were to turn out
adversely, I would be arrested right away. Probably some of the best but worst
news we could receive. We decided to go.
I think it was that same night we decided to go to the
temple and pray about whether or not the decision that we had made was the
correct one. At that point we knew it
was.
Thursday evening, after Devon’s church meetings, we had
someone from our Stake leadership, another family like figure to us came over
and gave us each a blessing. I don’t think I’ve ever had a blessing like that
in my life. I can still remember key phrases he used and the spirit that I felt
in our home. I can testify that angels were watching over us. We were ready to
go to SLC on Friday.
Friday
We left early and got to SLC with an hour or two to spare. I
think I received my third blessing of the week in that moment. I can remember
crying hysterically out of fear and trying to remember all of the confirmations
that I had personally received that I was doing the right thing. After the
blessing all I could think about was there was no room for fear in faith. We
went to the building where we were met by our Cassie and another girl from
BYU-Idaho that was shadowing her. We were asked to go back into an exam room as
a family and leave Cassie behind. As we were greeted by a new pediatrician, CPS
worker, and a lady with her MD/PhD, we were told this was our opportunity to
start everything from scratch. That we would go over complete family medical
histories, to show any possible bone density/disorder issues Lacy may have.
That we’d be able to tell our stories again, show how it happened again and get
x-rays from people specialized to get infant x-rays. For one of the few times
that week I felt hope and an environment that wanted to listen.
And so it began. I shared my story and Devon his. We
answered questions and asked them and before we knew it, our time was up. We
were to go to the hospital where Lacy would receive her x-rays again.
Afterwards we were to go back to the doctors’ offices where a panel consisting
of the three ladies, Cassie and the detectives would decide our fate. Whether
or not her head injury intentional.
After what seemed like forever, we were invited back into
the doctor’s office. She told us first and foremost that her skull fracture
diagnosis that she received in Rexburg had been a misdiagnosis. Instead of Lacy
having a fracture in an area that was near to impossible to receive, she had a
skull fracture in the most common area infants receive it. She was unsure about
the potential of hitting her head on the doorframe so she consulted with her
two partners in her business and they unanimously decided it was possible and
word for word said something that was in my blessing a few days prior, “I can discern
that the two of you are telling the truth.” I broke down crying at this point,
knowing we were being watched over and that my baby could come home with me
that night, that the two detectives there would be going home without me. She
also gave other advice, she knew we were both busy, she suggested we cut down
on all of our extra activities and spend more time as a family.
We were united with Cassie soon afterward, who congratulated
us with a smile and told us that she would talk to her boss, but there was a
good chance that the case would close soon after the mandatory 30 days it had
to be open. Music to our ears. We celebrated that night and for the first time
in what seemed like an eternity I was at peace.
A few weeks later
After a few weeks we hadn’t heard anything. We figured our
case would close soon, that Lacy was doing fine and went about our lives as
normal, taking nothing for granted. During this time cops were still sent by my
apartment daily. They would pull into our complex and slow down in front of our
home. We didn’t know if we should consider it normal, but we continued on. I
think it was a Friday I was called to the front of work for the second time
since the ordeal started to see the detective at my work again. This time he
asked if I could leave work, all I was told was that he had a warrant for my
home. Confused because I thought the ordeal was over I told him I couldn’t make
it. I immediately called my dad who had me in touch with his lawyers within a
matter of minutes. They walked me through all possibilities and said that
although we had expert opinion on our side, they still had the opinion of the
three doctors in Rexburg. Although it was based on a misdiagnosis, they still
had evidence that they could use. It
turned out the warrant was to take measurements of my hallway and the bookshelf
and to take pictures of my home. We contacted several attorneys in the area the
following day or so. Unfortunate for us, it was an election year and the
district attorney felt he had a lot to prove after almost getting out voted by
a younger attorney and that he’d been known to try and convict on less
evidence. Our attorney was a
blessing. After meeting him and feeling
reassured that we had picked the right man he said he would waive the retaining
fee unless charges came up, and that he would call the district attorney every
day to find out what was going on with our case, putting pressure on him to
find out what charges were being looked at, he said possible potential felony
child endangerment and had a great attorney and b)any possible charges didn’t
make sense based on evidence found in SLC.
After a week or two of daily calls and emails with my
attorney who made daily calls to the district attorney and never once heard a
reply, and less cops stopping by my house we hoped for the best.
June 29, 2012,
almost 3 months following Lacy’s head injury, I received a call while leaving
work. Cassie asked me and Lacy to stop by her office. With feelings
indescribable, I came to her office. She
had paperwork on her desk and said that the case was closing. I signed it, she
signed it, promised if anyone ever had any questions she would always be happy
to reassure them and that she thinks the police were closing their
investigation soon as well. I cried tears of joy leaving the office, thankful
to God for the gifts that I was given.
The good that came
from the bad.
Although we never heard from the police department again, I
think they closed the investigation within the next few months. I finished up
my 5 years spent in Rexburg with some paranoia of the town I once loved and
held so dear. I was scared to take my child to the doctor, and the importance
of obtaining a second opinion when your doctor doesn’t see what a parent does,
I had a loss of faith in the police department that I felt was so small town
they wanted to make an example out of my family an even bigger question in our
justice system. I still question what could have happened if I would have
emotionally broken down to the point of just giving in to the detectives.
Telling them anything just to make them stop hurting me as deep as they did, or
when I think of the possibility of what could have happened if we didn’t have
the resources to obtain one of the best defense attorney’s in the area that
gave us his all. Also, the feelings that come from your motherhood or your
parenting being questioned are some that I hope never happens to anyone. I
tried so hard in the face of this to never ask why us, but to ask what am I
supposed to learn and I don’t think I could ever list all of the countless
blessings we received by looking to our Father in Heaven. Although this was the hardest trial that I
have faced yet, I know that my family was being constantly watched out for. I
know for a surety that Heavenly Father knows exactly who we are and the
specific trails were all facing, we just need to look to him. I also know without countless good deeds of
the people I’m lucky enough to call my family, friends, neighbors and coworkers
the time would have been so much harder, that prayers really are truly answered
through other people. I know this was a long read, and I’m not sure if it was
more therapeutic for me or what I expect others to gain from it if not this, be
the answer to someone’s prayer today. Be the friend that goes the extra mile
and know that if you’re not sure, I know that God knows who you are and what
you’re going through, if you only look to him.
