Updated: Aug. 17, 2019
Originally Published: April 30, 2019
This serves as a follow-up to my previous post. When the Victim Witness and Prosecutor’s office approached me about speaking today, I was flooded with a mix of emotions. Anger, fear, sadness, and a glimmer of hope all intertwined within me. I felt furious because, selfishly, it’s hard to comprehend that this has all transpired. Fear loomed over me, as the weight of responsibility for this speech and its implications felt staggering.
How is it just to ask a mother of a 15-month-old to advocate for her child in front of a judge, our former caregiver, Jessica, and her family, while accurately conveying my daughter Ava’s emotions and feelings? How do I fulfill my role as an advocate for Ava? How will I one day explain this situation to her when she’s old enough to ask questions? How can I reassure Ava that I did everything within my power to protect her when I failed to do so at just 3 months old?
I felt sadness that this has become our family’s reality, knowing I’ll have to revisit these painful memories when Ava seeks answers. I mourn for my oldest daughter, Mia, who will carry knowledge of what a forensic interview entails for the rest of her life. It pains me that Mia was forced to confront someone she loved deeply, all because the woman charged with caring for her chose to prioritize her own interests over Ava’s safety.
Yet amidst this turmoil, I held onto hope. I hoped this would provide the closure our family desperately needs. I imagined a future without more tears at the mailbox, without letters labeling Ava as the victim, and without further calls from the authorities. I wished for Jessica to find a way to move forward with her life and her daughter.
Where does one begin with such a statement? Do I recount the anguish of questioning Jessica three times if she was aware of what had happened to my sweet girl? Or perhaps the desperation of pleading with our pediatrician’s office, knowing my daughter wasn’t showing typical signs of distress yet something was deeply wrong? Should I share the frantic message I sent to my mother upon realizing Ava had a skull fracture and that the Department of Child Safety had been involved, leaving me feeling untrustworthy with my own children?
Maybe I should ask Jessica to envision a mother sobbing in the hospital hallway while they conduct X-rays on her child for signs of prior abuse. How does one explain to their other daughters why safety officials need to interview them about their parents?
I read the character letters written on Jessica’s behalf, and two things struck me profoundly. The first was the realization that this all began as an accident. The second was how those letters seemed to dismiss the gravity of her actions. I know Jessica is a kind and nurturing person; she cared for my two older daughters for a year before we hired her as a nanny. Why would I trust my children with someone who wasn’t caring?
Jessica’s mother spoke highly of her, asserting that she would never leave her daughter in the care of anyone else. I understand that leaving my girls with Jessica was a decision filled with both ease and difficulty. It was easy because we knew Jessica was loving; it was hard because they are my daughters, and I want to be the one there for them in every moment.
I want to celebrate their milestones, soothe their hurts, and be the one they turn to in times of need. I relied on Jessica to take care of them when I couldn’t, and that trust was shattered. Reading those letters made me question whether Jessica now grapples with similar fears regarding her own child’s safety.
I’m grateful to report that Ava is now thriving, walking, laughing, and exploring the world around her. I can’t express how fortunate I feel to have three healthy girls. The situation forced my husband and me to reassess our priorities. We both reduced our work hours, allowing us to be more present for our daughters. Life may be more challenging now, but it has also taught us to cherish every moment.
Throughout this ordeal, I hoped for two outcomes: I wanted Jessica to comprehend the immense responsibility that comes with caring for someone else’s children, understanding the lasting impact of her choices on my family. I also wished to safeguard other parents from experiencing such trauma.
Whether I achieved either of these aims remains uncertain. However, I can look Ava in the eyes and assure her I did my utmost to advocate for her. I hope Jessica never faces the heartache we’ve endured, especially when Mia’s eyes filled with confusion and hurt upon learning she couldn’t see Jessica anymore due to her dishonesty.
Ultimately, we will support Ava through any long-term effects of her injury, ensuring she knows she’s loved and protected every step of the way. If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination options, check out this informative article on home insemination kits. For those considering fertility treatments, this site offers valuable insights. Additionally, this Wikipedia page serves as an excellent resource for understanding pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary:
A mother reflects on the emotional turmoil she faced after her infant daughter was harmed by a trusted nanny. She grapples with feelings of anger, fear, and sadness while advocating for her child in a courtroom setting. Despite the pain, she remains hopeful for healing and the future, emphasizing the importance of family and support through difficult times.