
We're back in the Windy City, with JP's dad present as Safety Person (a post on the continued absurdity and an investigation update is forthcoming). The trip to Texas was wonderful. I've never cried when leaving to return to Chicago- I love this city and it is our home now, but I cried yesterday. For six days I was able to let go of some of the stress and tension surrounding us in Illinois. The investigation was never far from my mind, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't at the forefront. Landon met his aunt and uncle for the first time, JP and I drank a lot of properly blended frozen margaritas, my baby brother showed off what he's learned in two months of college by schooling us in beer pong, and we all got to relax and enjoy the company of family and friends.
I had hoped that this nightmare would be over by Thanksgiving- I had an image of us sitting around my grandparent's table in Texas thanking God that our lives were finally moving on. Obviously, that didn't happen; however, I found myself filled with thankfulness anyway for the amazing people in my life. This post isn't about how the hard times make you realize the importance of family and friends- I already knew that. It's an acknowledgement of how much their love and support can shine through your darkest times.
We moved to Illinois two years ago without knowing a single person in the state, but when a doctor's visit turned into a nightmare, our Chicago support system materialized. Friends visited us in the hospital with treats and distractions. A friend researched lawyers for us and called to fill them in on the background so that when I called on Friday, barely coherent after DCFS had taken Landon, they already knew my story. When Landon was released from the shelter, I had five local volunteers to be safety people. A friend slept on the floor of my living room for four days, under the threat of a psychotic cat, while we waited for my dad to be approved. Friends instituted a daily delivery of meals, and even coordinated to make sure we didn't have too much of one style food. I've gotten notes for missed classes and received incredible support from the professors and administration at the law school. I've had classmates I barely know donate money, ask how I'm doing, and send emails with support and research. People far away have made a daily difference as well. Friends of my parents donated money, sent emails, prayed, spread the word, wrote character letters for the hearing, offered to fly up as safety persons, and even made care packages for my mom and dad with meals, gift cards, and a day of a cleaning service. Family donated, prayed, cried, loved, and offered to do anything they could to help. My aunt left her family and moved in with us for two weeks. People I've never met sent legal and medical research, donated money, prayed, and sent emails of outrage, ideas for help, and support. No one who knew us doubted us, and so many of those we've never met joined in indignation. People have commented on how strong I've been during this, and I have been. But I think any mother be would when the options are: (a) break down and risk losing your child or (b) press on and do everything in your power to have him restored to you. So while the strength came from within, the ability to focus solely on Landon- to not spent hours sifting through google search results, legal cases, and doctors names, to ignore grocery lists and our dwindling bank account- that came from you all and I am deeply, immeasurably thankful for it.
At Landon's baptism yesterday I kept crying. Sitting in the church we've attended since the 80's, that my family helped build, that JP and I were married in, was very emotional. Old friends from my church youth group, whom I've known since elementary school but haven't seen in years, heard about the investigation and the baptism and came to the service to show their support. We had a few family members and five pews of family friends at the church. Landon has no idea how much love and support surrounded him, but someday we'll tell him. I believe very much in the importance of family, but I also believe that friends can be the family you make for yourself (yes, I just quoted Sex and the City in an emotional post that keeps making me cry in the law library). Without our friends- local, faraway, known, and unknown- this ordeal would have been crippling.
So to those of you who recognize yourselves in the descriptions above, thank you. To those of you who donated, thank you. To those of you who sent emails, thank you. To those of you who defended me in my own comments and elsewhere, thank you. To those of you I don't even know about, but who prayed for and thought about us, thank you. I don't think I believe that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or even that God does everything for a reason, but I do believe that something good can come out of anything- even if the good sometimes seems small in the midst of the bad. You all are my good.