From My Journal, June 2004
I came home about 9:30pm last Thursday and found the house completely dark. I felt something was wrong because Kathy always leaves a light on downstairs for me when I come home late. But, 9pm isn't that late for me. I walked into the living room and reached for the light and there were huge pieces of thick glass all over the carpet. It was obvious that the last of our two huge decorative vases that sat near the mantle had been smashed and I was sure I knew who was responsible. What I didn't understand was why no one picked up the glass or why the lights were out. Leaving shards of glass on the floor is dangerous enough, but leaving glass and turning out the lights? I was more than a bit annoyed. I left the house at 5:30am and I didn't leave the Theater until 9:00pm. I'd been at work for 15 hours and this is what I come home to?
I started upstairs and I could hear someone crying. As I reached the top of the stairs, I realized the crying was not coming from the kids room, it was coming from the master bedroom. When I entered the room, I found Kathy sitting on the bed sobbing. When I asked her what was wrong, she took a deep breath and a very long pause. She said, "I can't do this anymore. I can't raise this child. We have to find a place to put her, somewhere where we know they'll take good care of her. I have thought about this and I just can't do this anymore."
In normal situations, a person would recognize this as a cry for help or perhaps just the need for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. But, our situation is far from normal. You see, I've been with Danielle on one of those days. I know what it can be like and it is not easy. You can never truly relax with Danielle, at least not mentally. You can sit for short periods of time but you cannot afford to get engrossed in any activity; not TV, homework, house cleaning, nothing. The moment your concentration wanders from Danielle for more than 10 minutes, disaster is on the horizon. It is hard to understand the emotional stress of being mentally on task and physically ready to respond to emergencies at a moment notice. I know what this is like so I should have known better.
Kathy began to tell me about her day. Danielle got up about 7am and before Kathy knew it, she had gone to the refrigerator and took out six eggs to "cook" for breakfast. When Kathy went into the kitchen, she found Danielle stirring the broken eggs in the bowl, along with all the shells. When Kathy took the bowl from Danielle, she had a mini-tantrum and went upstairs. After Kathy cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, she went upstairs and Danielle had poured baby powder all over herself and all over the master bedroom. After cleaning up that mess, she went downstairs and gave Danielle some cereal for breakfast. As soon as she turned to walk away, Danielle stood up and started spinning with her bowl and threw milk and cereal all around the dining room. This pattern of behavior, crisis response and crisis management went on all day long. Finally, at the end of a very long day, Kathy put Danielle in the bath tub. She stayed in the bath room with her, as we usually do. After fifteen minutes, Danielle didn't want to get out of the tub so Kathy thought it would be okay to leave her alone for a few minutes. Kathy called her mother and while she was on the phone, Danielle got out of the bath tub and used the restroom. Unfortunately, she also cleaned herself with an entire roll of toilet tissue. When she flushed the toilet, it overflowed. The toilet was over flowing for 3 or 4 minutes before Kathy realized what was going on. Water from the overflowing toilet got into the floor vents and began to seep through the downstairs ceiling. Eventually, water was leaking through the light fixtures in our downstairs dining room. Kathy ran upstairs to handle the flood and try to minimize the damage. In her haste to stop the water and shut off the fuses in the fuse box, she lost track of Danielle. As she was throwing down towels to soak up the water and trying to figure out why the toilet overflowed, she heard a huge crash downstairs. Danielle had smashed the last of our twin set of Chinese vases. It was at that moment that Kathy reached her breaking point. However, it wasn't just today, it wasn't just this fifteen hours when I was gone. It was all of the past fifteen hour days, it was all of the fifteen hour days she saw in looming her future.
I don't know why I reacted the way I did. Perhaps it was just a defense mechanism, I'm not sure. My first thoughts were not about Kathy, though they should have been. Perhaps it was my deep understanding of what she was feeling. I've had those feelings before but I just put them out of my mind and press forward. Kathy's situation is much different than mine. While I may experience this hailstorm once or twice a week on my days off, Kathy is with Danielle for days on end. It's not unreasonable to think that she really has reached her limit.
My first thoughts were of what the reality of what Kathy was telling me would "look like". If we were to seriously consider what she is saying, how would this happen? We start looking for local residential facilities that take little girls? Do we go and visit her after work for an hour or two and come back on weekends? What do we tell Taylor; mommy and daddy thought it was best if Danielle go away? How could I walk into her bedroom at night and look at her empty bed, knowing she was in someone else's care? I knew I couldn't do that and continue on with my life as if nothing happened. I absolutely could not consider such a thing. I would sooner walk away from my career than give up my daughter. Danielle wasn't an "accidental" child. We wanted another baby and we planned for her. We had no idea that she would have special needs but it is what it is; she is who she is. I would sooner give up my right arm than give up my daughter. Danielle did not ask to be here and she certainly did not ask for her disability. We wanted a child, we have her and she is beautiful. I would sooner give up my marriage than give up my daughter. Is that what this has come to? Do I have to choose between my marriage and my daughter? Is this where we decide that our family is no more? I never understood the depths of my commitment to Danielle's well being until that moment. No wonder divorce rates amongst families like ours is so high. We are at a crossroads in our lives and the lives of our children.
In hindsight, I realize my thought processes were completely haywire, nonsensical. Kathy was simply exhausted and temporarily overwhelmed. She couldn't possibly consider institutionalizing Danielle, no more than I could. She needed to "decompress" and vent her emotions and frustrations. Since that time, Kathy and I have talked about what transpired and how we can better support each other through these tough days and moments of weakness. It is far from perfect but we are making our way. In the future, there will be many more crossroads for us to navigate. Hopefully, we are both looking at the big picture and the horizon when we decide which road is best.
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