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9:24 a.m. - 2016-05-21
troubled times
Just thought about my diary for the first time in a long time. I had my third daughter Sophia Elizabeth on February 22nd and she was 8lbs 13oz and 20 inches long. My last couple of months of being pregnant were pretty rough because I was so swollen from the edema and she was so big that it messed with my sciatica really bad. So I couldn't do much physically and I was pretty miserable. Her delivery was faster than Hannah's (22 hours) or Dora's (6 1/2 hours) as I had Sophia in only 4 hours. I was induced with both of her bigger sisters though so that may have played a role in why it took me so long with them.
I hate that fucking hospital though. Really, they suck. I thought a hospital in Dallas would be more professional than a hospital in Odessa but I couldn't have been more wrong on that. The night before I went into labor my back was hurting so bad from sciatica that I couldn't really walk so I went to their emergency room. The very first thing I told them was that I was 9 months pregnant. Then the nurse in the back tells me that she's going to give me something for pain but they don't tell me what it is. They put an IV in my elbow and give me a shot through that. I feel it immediately. My lips got really cold and my head started feeling kind of fuzzy but it doesn't really help with the pain much. I ask the nurse what she gave me and she said it was morphine. I'm shocked and my husband asked her if she was sure that it was all right to give that to a pregnant lady. She kind of nods her head and said oh yeah, I didn't give her enough to hurt her or the baby. Of course, this only came about AFTER the doctor was going to give me an MRI and then realized at the last second that I was pregnant and radiation plus pregnancy is a big no-no.
So I go home with a prescription for Tylenol 3 and the next morning I wake up and the pain is unbearable. I can hardly stand up and after an hour or two of crying and trying everything I can to get some relief I go back to the hospital because now I'm having obvious contractions.
To make a long story a little shorter, they drug test me (in the fucking delivery room!) and, of course, they found opiates in my system. I told those fuckheads that their responsible for that because they gave me morphine the night before. There was also pot in my system but they only seemed to care about the opiates. So they tell me that they're going to call CPS and I'm pissed off and scared the next two days that I'm in that hospital. I thought some bitch in a suit was going to show up and take my baby away. I was prepared to fight because I didn't deserve to have my babies taken from me. I may have smoked a little pot to help with my sciatica but I'm not and never have been or will be a drug addict. No one ever showed up and the doctor told me that it was obvious that my baby WAS NOT addicted to drugs and neither was I. So they let us go home and two days later a CPS investigator shows up. I explained to her what happened at the hospital and sign a release so that she can call and clarify it with the doctors. At no time did she ever mention anything about the marijuana in my system, she was only concerned about the opiates. So almost a month passes and I think everything has been cleared up when I get a call from a different CPS investigator. This one is a real cunt and when she comes to my house she's rude, disrespectful and treats me like I'm a fucking crackhead even though I've only smoked marijuana and I've never done a real drug in my life. My husband lets her have it. He doesn't scream or get physical in any way but he tells her off and then her whole attitude changes. After he gets mad (he's a big scary looking man) she's all sweet and nice and then hurries her fat ass out of my house. Another month passes and the stupid "safety plan" she had my husband sign expires he calls her to see what's up. Family Based Services were supposed to contact us weeks ago and never did. He tells her this and also reminds her that I am not a drug addict. She gets angry (bitch has got big balls on the phone but not in person haha) and tells him that I need rehab for my marijuana use. We're kind of dumbstruck and he tells her that I haven't smoked any in a long time so why the fuck would I need rehab for something that it's impossible to grow a physical dependency on? Suddenly she doesn't want to talk anymore and says she's going to hang up. So my husband starts making calls. Every day for a week he calls trying to figure out what's going on and no one seems to know anything other than a case has been opened on us just because I admitted to using pot occasionally for my back pain. So another week goes by and finally I get a call from FBS and she wants to come out the next day to talk to me.
She shows up, she talks with me, my husband, our kids and I explain for the third time what's going on. She's much nicer than the fat hillbilly who said I needed rehab and she tells me that they're going to contact me soon for a drug assessment and we'll go from there. She says she expects it to be an easy case and that I'll have to submit to random drug testing. I agree with that saying no problem because I haven't smoked any marijuana in a long time and I'm as clean as a whistle. So she left. That was like two weeks ago and I haven't heard from them since.
I know they're game. They're going to drag this out as long as they can so that I'll give them enough rope to hang myself with. But it's not going to work. I'm NOT a drug addict and I've never abused or neglected any of my beautiful daughters and I never will. I love my kids more than anyone and I'm not a bad mother just because I've smoked a little weed. They've never said anything about trying to remove the kids from my care and that's good because I'll play their little game but if they try to do that I'm getting a fucking lawyer and I will never stop fighting for my babies. Children are six times more likely to be physically or sexually abused in foster care and I'll be goddamned if I ever let anyone hurt my babies. They're going to have to kill me before I'll let that happen. No fucking joke.

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