The System Can't Make A Parent!

Rodney did not want to be a parent, he did not want Nikque and he was furious when I didn’t terminate my pregnancy. That is not a criticism, it’s just a fact and it’s not something that I pass judgment on. Rodney has ALWAYS been free to walk away from this situation, money and all and make no mistake, that would be much easier for me, but I decided long ago that I would not make that choice for him or Nikque. Today, there is NO standard in which I can be convinced that his involvement in Nikque’ life is anything more than pride in not wanting to fall into they stereotypical black man, dead beat dad. I’ve heard some people say from time to time that Rodney seems to mean well, and while I admit I don’t agree, I don’t insist that I am right. But what I do know is that there comes a time when meaning well just isn’t enough. When you decided to leave your child at school without telling anyone that she is there, like Rodney did on December 10, 2004, how is that meaning well? You could argue that I should have known he wouldn’t pick her up because that wasn’t what the court order said, but you see, I can’t conceptualize that because I would drive past my daughter coming AND going and simply leave her there to be discovered. When he didn’t demonstrate the good judgment to notify me that Nikque had been in a car accident just in case, how is that well meaning. What on earth does it HURT to communicate that information EXPECIALLY if you aren’t going to be around to observe if anything is different? Who knows what would have happened if Nikque had gotten on an intense ride on the same day as that accident? Nobody’s knows, but her Dr. did know enough to advise that I observe for 48 hours before doing so and I knew enough to call the Dr. and ask. It’s easy enough to say “it’s only five minutes” and leave a child Nikque’ age sitting ALONE at a table at McDonald’s, but if I were to crawl into the mind of a child predator, I would expect that they might have lunch or dinner at McDonald’s every day just waiting for a “well meaning” parent like Rodney to leave their child alone for “five minutes” and in that five minutes, that child will be out with a pervert looking for a kitty. There are MANY, MANY medications that cannot be stopped cold turkey without serious side effects, yet “they” decided over Nikque’ vacation week from July 15^th to July 25^th that “they” would not give Nikque the medication that her doctor PRESCRIBED for her. Was there a simple call to the doctor’s office just to make sure there were no adverse affects to stopping the medication Cold Turkey? Apparently there was not. Rodney just isn’t ready. While I realized that only you have the benefit of having interviewed us all and reviewed the psychological testing that we all underwent at this point, I have read the documentation in this case, and I have LIVED the documentation in this case, and frankly, I can’t think of anything that Rodney has done for Nikque as a parent. If you separate out those thing that he said “I do, or I did” from those that he said “we do, or we did” as in he and Ursula, I wonder if you will be able to tell me what Rodney has done as a parent. Recently when I talk to Nikque about her father and it gets very negative, I will generally ask her to focus on something good, and when I ask her that usually I either get some response about Video Games, or Bicycling and when I hear that, sadly, I think to myself that’s on the level of some 12-15 years old and while I realize that there are parents that age, I don’t know ANYONE who thinks that a child will thrive in that environment. Not everyone reading this letter will know or believe that even Rodney’s apparent affection is nothing more than a recital of what affection is supposed to “look like”. Nikque is wise enough to see it and as proud as I am of the wisdom she possesses, I know it must be a burden for her. Once someone said to Nikque, “I think your daddy cares about you” and Nikque said, “well it sure doesn’t seem like it”. Tears filled my eyes, because I knew that Rodney probably had no idea that Nikque felt that way, and I could hear the pain in her voice and I though “When you’re just young, don’t you just assume that someone loves you because they say so?” Then I remembered that I had been teaching her since she was two years old, “Love is a Verb” and between the behavior he displayed on November 4, 2004 and the smiles Nikque refers to as fake, and a “Rodney Smile” in which I am very familiar, I know exactly what she is feeling. If Nikque was sixteen and we were talking about a boyfriend, what would we be advising her to do? The reality is that if Rodney REALLY wanted to spend time with his daughter, he would do so. Take a look at all the opportunities he has had to do so. The approximately 1,000 days that she spent at Fox Child Development Center, he could have seen her, but he didn’t. Over the past year, Rodney has managed to take AT LEAST four weeks off of work, how many of those days were dedicated JUST to spending time with Nikque? He testified in October 2004 that he could come and go from his job as he pleased, how many times did he COME to have lunch with his daughter and GO back to work. Or Leave the office early and spend the afternoon with his daughter? Did he stay an extra hour in the morning when he dropped her off or arrive a couple of hours early to pick her up on his Friday’s off? Again the answer is an resounding NO. At Brentwood, they welcomed parents for lunch, but it would appear that Rodney was never there. He used ever excuse under the sun to NOT take his Wednesday evening dinners, by refusing to pick her up only a few blocks from school. On at least five occasions Rodney has LITERALLY drove PAST where Nikque was and spent what was supposed to be his custodial time sitting at the police station. Psychology 101 suggest to me that conscious or subconscious, he was were he preferred to be and if he wasn’t where he preferred to be, then the alternative is much more ominous. Over the past year, I have wondered if Rodney is intentionally trying to cause me to loose my job, I again I request that in your recommendation, you don’t not grant him the power to continue to chip away at my ability to do my job. As a direct result of Rodney in his refusal to pick Nikque up from one place or another arbitrarily has not only caused me to receive the worst performance review I’ve had in more than fifteen years, it has caused me to receive a written warning for the first time EVER! When Rodney refuses to pick Nikque up on a day he was to have Wednesday night dinner, I have to leave work early and pick her up. Just this past week, he insisted on forcing me to come to the police station to pick Nikque up at 9am even though he was well aware that I am supposed to be at work at 9am thereby making sure that I was late to work. His excuse AFTER, I had already picked Nikque up was that since School was not in session, he would not drop her off at school (i.e. Page). Of course, at no time did the judge EVER specify that Brentwood was the only School where he should pick Nikque up. It is also quite obvious that his excuse that he is following court orders when he behaves in this manner is very obviously that, and excuse. If you refer to the e-mail exchange surrounding Labor Day 2004, you will see that this behavior begin before there was she ever attended a day of school at Brentwood and before there was any court order to exchange her a the police station. I have familiarized myself with the strict requirements that must be met to become a qualified 730 Custody Evaluator as I struggled to find the patience to allow this process to complete and no doubt that training has provided the knowledge to make recommendations that will not allow Rodney to destroy my livelihood (which very indirectly is also his) and very directly is Nikque livelihood. I have also been told that It is advisable that I specify what type of custody and visitation agreement I think is appropriate in my situation.

Child - You can't MAKE them, you can only BREAK them!

After a time, Nikque’ fear of telling her father how she felt seemed more disturbing than anything and the stories she relayed sounded like a sort of emotional torture for a child. If Nikque is to be believed, then her father made her go and tell her step-mother every negative feeling she had about her, and then she was ridiculed, told that wasn’t nice and basically humiliated into not saying anything at all. Nikque has NEVER been allowed to develop that relationship at her own pace. Had she been allowed that dignity, things might well be very different today. It seems to me that Rodney sent Nikque a clear message, don’t accept Ursula, don’t get me and any complaints Nikque has made over the years, Rodney has refused to stand up for her. Nikque confided in my mother most of the same complaints she made to me during the early months of kindergarten when I wasn’t home and that removed any doubt (what very, very little that remained) that the things Nikque had to say about Ursula were a reflective of a misplaced loyalty to me. Since Rodney and I were never married, Nikque didn’t have the typical issues surrounding divorce or ideas that Ursula had replaced or mis-placed me, but Nikque became aware that I was not allowed in “their” house and it made her uncomfortable. When she was there, she was cut off from mommy and she knew it. When she wanted to call me, she was told “no” or “later”, but later never came. Today, she plainly states that she doesn’t even ask anymore because she know the answer will be no. According to Nikque she was told it’s “our time” to have you. Things I taught her or allowed her to do were branded as wrong or bad and without my knowledge she began taking sides. Rarely did I try to justify myself when Nikque brought conflicts between households to me. I didn’t know how to do it peacefully, so I generally told her that daddy and I did things different and if it was something that really bothered her, I would tell her to talk to her daddy and tell him how much it bothered her. Otherwise, I was secure enough as a parent to feel no need to defend myself. I gave and continue to give parenting my best and I am content to allow her to develop her own opinion as to whether or not she grew up appreciating that. She is free to criticize my decisions, my style or my methods but also understands that I am the boss. I remind her that everything I do is either for her safety, best interest or enrichment even is she can’t see it or understand it and when I can’t support a decision I’ve made by that standard, I always remind myself that I must at least reconsider the decision even if I don’t change it. Nikque and I have negotiated many a dispute this way, and it has given me more credibility with her than I thought was possible because now, when I tell her something she doesn’t want to hear, she trust’s that I have a good reason even when she doesn’t understand it. She knows that if she can’t question it right at that moment, I will always make time for her questions as soon as I can.

My Gifted is my Gift!

Nikque is truly a natural born actor, so naturally, she can act like she loves Ursula, but she does not. Further, anyone who has seen the video tape from November last year can see that in fact her father DEMANDS that she love her. After years of that type of insistence and punishment for non-compliance, most children will eventually either comply or rebel and Nikque is definitely a pleaser, not a rebel. I have watched Nikque destroy her step-mother symbolically on three separate occasions in Dr. Calandra’s office, and I could only wonder if I had done anything to create this feeling in her. I finally realized I did not. It is plenty enough to have Rodney blaming me for everything that is wrong in his relationship with Nikque. Certainly Rodney and Ursula both were made fun of in my house from time to time, but only a fraction of the time that I made fun of myself and Nikque didn’t start to hate me. I come from a family now ADULTS who can all laugh at their self, either flaws or other’s perceptions whether or not they are in agreement and it was a good thing for Nikque because I wanted our perfectionists little girl to know it was okay to be imperfect. I also felt a growing need over the years to try anything I could to find something positive in the increasingly disturbing events being reported by Nikque at her dad’s house. The reality is that most of the negative comments Rodney accused me of saying about him or Ursula were either taken completely out of context or were comments that I would have expected to be laughed off by another adult. Instead, I found something different hostility, retaliation and frankly pure hatred. I was particularly unprepared for “their” complete inability to comprehend that it just might present some difficulty for a young child to adapt to what was going on “their” house. Namely, a person who was NOT Nikque mother, attempting to take on a bossy and domineering role that was very different from how I treated her and who repeatedly told her I was wrong. Little things like clipping her nails when I told her she could wear the long or like telling her that I should not straighten her hair, which was none of her business bothered Nikque. Nikque is not interested in wearing her hair nappy, but Ursula seemed insistent that if SHE thought is should be nappy, then it would be. I would like to be certain that she didn’t enjoy combing Nikque’ hair so hard that she had tears running down her face, but there is nothing I have heard that gives me that comfort.

The Sea Witch - The Step Monster

This letter would be incomplete if I didn’t address the problems with Ursula. I assumed that Rodney married Ursula when he took Nikque to New Jersey for what he called a “family wedding” in April 2003, and from that time (maybe even before), I no longer had to wonder why things didn’t work out between he and I and I was first really upset that I hadn’t seen the real Rodney in the time we had dated. I couldn’t understand how he could have fooled me so. For example, in the entire time that we dated, not once did Rodney speak to me the way he did on November 4, 2004, and that was mild compared to how he spoke to me in 2002. In MY personal and humble opinion, Ursula was bossy, overbearing, volatile, selfish and insecure. No man who was attracted to her would be genuinely interested in me. Rodney’s behavior and parenting changed drastically when she entered his life so it was easy to see that the he had allowed her to takeover his household including Nikque but in my view, if there is to be peace, Rodney MUST learn that he cannot give “carte blanche” to Ursula to have her way with Nikque. If he doesn’t make a decision or determination about Nikque, the right to do so DOES NOT default to Ursula. That can be complimented by her accepting that if I object to something and Rodney does not, it does NOT nullify my objection and the appropriate course of action for HER is to remain hands off. She does NOT have automatic “Power of Attorney” with regard to Nikque. Rodney also need to learn that he, Nikque and Ursula are not always “we” and that they are never and exclusionary “we”. I got a message from Rodney just recently that said “we have only seen Nikque for two hours since our vacation”. I don’t know that he even realizes that Ursula has absolutely NO RIGHTS, legal or otherwise to see, spend time with or make decisions on behalf of Nikque at all.

Ursula is the most frightening person I know. No adult I know has ever lost their temper so easily, no adult I know has overstepped their boundaries so significantly and no one I know has generated so much hate in another person that she has inspired in Nikque. I looked the other way in many cases until I couldn’t anymore. I do not like the way she dresses, very literally, I have seen her in shirts so sheer that NOTHING was left to the imagination, but I didn’t say anything until she told Nikque that one of her skirts were too long. I was fuming inside because I don’t want Nikque walking around dressed provocatively at fifteen years old and being whistled at by twenty five year old men. Maybe Rodney doesn’t care about those types of examples, but I do so I teach her modesty. If Ursula wants to wear her hair in dreadlocks, that’s her business, but when she sends Nikque home with knots in her hair that take me an hour to get out when my entire evening between getting home from work and bedtime is only 1 ½ hours, THEN it becomes my business because she’s is now stealing my time. If she wants to wear shorts so short that her bottom is showing, that’s her business, but it’s not her place to advise Nikque on the type of clothes she wears, especially at her age. It’s pure embarrassing to have her coming to Nikque’ school in shirts with her stomach showing with a belly button ring. In the Brentwood community, it’s considered low class and “ghetto”. I am way past pretending that these things don’t matter, because all I have to do is look around and observe the children who were admitted into a school like Brentwood, and it is NOT “that” type, not even if they can afford full tuition! The other mother’s DO NOT walk around dressed like that, no matter how good they think they look because there is a class standard and yes, people DO talk. Ultimately, like it or not, that only hurts Nikque and yes, it makes me angry, I am working double time and investing triple time to give Nikque the absolute best that I can, and along comes someone like this to cast a shadow on Nikque and create doubt as to whether Nikque is a “fit” as the saying goes. Maybe these words are extremely harsh and maybe they are offensive, most certainly they are things that we like to pretend aren’t not, but they are and I keep wondering when someone, when REGGIE is going to start putting Nikque’ interest first. I am relatively certain that he was raised better than that, so I can’t help but question his motivation as he makes choices that chip away at the opportunities that I fight to give Nikque. Please do not mistake this as an attack or a judgment on Ursula. She’s a grown woman, who can do as she pleases and I really could care less, but between now and Nikque becoming an adult, Rodney COULD potentially have five wives and an infinite number of girlfriends and no matter what values or ideas they may hold, it is ultimately Rodney who MUST understand that it is his responsibility to draw proper boundaries for the women in his life if he is to be an effective parent. The very same standard should be applied to his mother, father, brother, sister aunts uncles or anyone else and guess what, it also applies to everyone in my family and in my life as well. Every member of my family knows that they have to respect my wishes and boundaries with regard to me and to Nikque and thankfully they understand that. I have also given that same respect to Rodney. I have never made a significant decision in Nikque’ life without letting him know of my plans or asking him if it was okay for that matter. He has simply never bothered to comment or even object, just sabotage after Ursula came into his life. So unless he expects me to believe that he suddenly became a completely different person coinciding with the arrival of Ursula in his life and he just HAPPEN to become HER, I am fully able to tell what is actually coming from Rodney and what is simply a pass through from Ursula.

Children First - No Matter What!

When I got pregnant, I gave up unhealthy eating, something I had been unable t do before, but I knew my child was depending on me, so I stayed on track the entire time. I got good pre-natal care, kept my appointments and took my prenatal vitamins. When Nikque was born, I gave up my job as a traveling consultant to be there for her as best I could. I loved being a consultant and I loved the frequent flyer miles, but I loved Nikque more. When the job at Fox came along, I came to Fox for her to be in their state of the art, award winning preschool, the job I left was one I loved and frankly, I didn’t really expect Fox to be the dream job it turned out to be based on the interviews. When the costs of that preschool skyrocketed going from $467 /mo when she first enrolled to a final cost of $800 /mo when she left, I left her there knowing that stability was more important than money even though I had not budgeted for my day care costs to go up this much. I was always told it would go down as she got older. In addition to adequate insurance with trusted beneficiaries, I opened a custodial account so Nikque could have the future she dreamed of when she finished high school. Whether that’s college or something else, I wanted to have a little something for her. When she got $50 or $100 from family for birthdays and Christmas, I deposited that into her account and I put money in for her when I could. Today, that account has almost $10,000 in assets and it was me who researched and bought securities that grew, substantially for her benefit. I log on and show her the account and talk to her about what it is, what it’s for and what it means and I look forward to her learning to manage the investments herself sooner rather than later. I searched out healing for myself knowing that everything I did for her would mean a lot less if I couldn’t share it with her from depression to obesity to insomnia, I attacked them all and I won, that meant she won. I listen to her needs, hopes, dreams and desires with an open mind, knowing that she isn’t an extension of me, but her own person. And I resolved to support her instead of being a dream killer parent who would later wonder “what did I do wrong”? I learned that there are things we enjoy together and things we enjoy FOR each other but apart and that both can be equally rewarding. I enjoyed her glow when she was happy and it gave me strength. When I became a real single parent in October 2002, I didn’t drop the ball of parenting because it got bigger, but instead put down some of the responsibilities I had. Nights when I could work late virtually disappeared in an environment where the amount of time your face was seen in the office was directly related to promotions, raises and bonus regardless of productivity. I no longer had Monday nights free to clip coupons or Tuesday nights to go grocery shopping. So paying $10 to have my groceries delivered was a welcome alternative to the “no” sonnet that accompanied taking a toddler to the store. Day’s or evenings previously spent to tidy up gave way to calling cleaning services to come in as I left in the morning struggling to reach the office at 9am. Since I no longer worked into the late hours of the evening, 9:30am was hardly an acceptable start time. All these extra expenditures meant that the same paycheck didn’t stretch as far and still I managed to remain self sufficient although what started out as rapid growth at Fox came to a screeching halt with the changes in my life. Lunch with Nikque became an important part of her no longer crying at morning drop off when her dad was coming to pick her up that evening and usually took longer than an lunch “hour”. Having lunch with Nikque seemed a welcome occurrence for Nikque but day after day, week after week, month after month and frankly year after year, I kept wondering when I was going to run into Rodney also trying to have lunch with his daughter or when I returned with her, when would I run into to him stopping by to visit her, read a book to the class with Nikque on his knee or when he would be there to pick her up early and have dinner with her and found it ironic that he made up stories under oath about having “encountered me” there. Strange, that he felt he needed a court order to have dinner with Nikque on second and fifth Wednesday nights, he could have had dinner with her any day with or without my permission while she was in preschool and he NEVER did. Still today, Rodney is obsessed with spending time with Nikque at times when it will infringe on my ability to spend time with her, then, he projected those feelings onto me repeatedly claiming that I “vehemently insisted on keeping him from his daughter”. Something that is virtually impossible for me to do seeing as I work full time. After all was said and done, the Kindergarten came and went without him coming to have lunch with Nikque even ONCE! A time in which Brentwood welcomes parents to share with there children and something he could have done without any permission from me, a judge or anyone else. At Fox, I am not allowed to “come and go as I please” as Rodney testified he could on October 15, 2004, so I would have expected him there almost every day (I looked for his car on the few days I was able to have lunch with her), but it was never there. I offered her the opportunity to explore many different sports and activities knowing how much richer her life would be if she earned her living doing something she loved enough to do for charity and knowing that only a few people in life have that opportunity. And when she asked to try soccer, I welcomed the opportunity for her to enjoy this sport with her father, conscious that their relationship was deteriorating. It was me who suggested him as a volunteer referee for her league, thinking I dropped my two cents into the bucket. The season ended in regret for that recommendation as he failed to complete his commitment and failed to allow Nikque to complete the commitment she made to the tea when he refused to bring Nikque to or attend the last few games of the season. It was me who wrote the check for the activity and me who stayed away from the games in hopes of avoiding trouble. What trouble you might wonder; Ursula trouble.

Question Authority ALWAYS!

In 2005, or maybe right before the end of 2004, Rodney ask me once in an e-mail if I dared to question the judges decision about Nikque’ custody and I was amazed. Did he think a judge who had NEVER met our daughter and knew virtually nothing about her would be better suited to make decisions for her that he or I? The need for a judge to make those decisions represents a miserable failure on our part in my eyes. He on the other hand considered it a validation that he was right and once again, it removed his requirement to take responsibility. No doubt one day he will explain his behavior to Nikque by saying he was following the judge’s orders, after all that’s how he explains it to everyone now. Unfortunately for him, Nikque will most likely not allow this shift in accountability because the judge wasn’t there when he dragged her out the way he did on so many occasions last year.

I feel confidently that I have been a good parent and continue to be, and if I am correct in calling a Custody Evaluation a sort of “Forensic Psychology”, then I would expect this science will find me to be a good parent and while I have experienced a great deal of bad science, I have certainly experienced a greater amount of good science and credit science for much of the growth in my life over the past three years. I don’t think I am perfect and I am open to learn where I need improvements. If they are things I already know, I’m probably already working on improvement and I’m not inclined to focus on the unfinished work. However I am happy to focus on what I believe I have done correctly and while the above is meant to provide a background into how things have evolved, how I’ve attempted to handle and resolve conflict and find solutions to problems big and small, I think spending some time summarizing my parental highlights are worthwhile.

A Child's Rights

Nikque’ human rights have been violated in the worst way imaginable; and worse, it has been excused and sanctioned by law enforcement as okay. In my very humble opinion, it’s the worst form of abuse because before my daughter will ever be shoved into a wall by her high school boyfriend or called out of her name by a man who claims over and over that he didn’t really mean it, or struck by a husband who say’s “I only do this because I love you so much”, she will refused to file a police report because somewhere in her subconscious she’ll remember they sat behind the counter while she was in obvious distress and told her everything would be alright. I have news, behind the smiles and the seeming calm demeanor that Rodney refers to as “fine” Nikque knows that everything is not fine, but recognizes that “fine” is the ONLY answer she is allowed to give. Somehow, I have to figure out how to teach her trust and respect when so few people in her world can be trusted or respected and no doubt this is one more thing I’ll be forced to figure out on my own after everyone else has moved on.

A Child is Born, A child is FAILED....

Whether Rodney lost touch with reality after I served him the OSC filed August 4, 2004, or when he thought I intentionally caused Nikque to miss his wedding is as much a question as is was he ever in touch with reality? Or, is he simply an individual who does not tell the truth. Which ever it is, his anger, hostility and revenge took on an evil life of its own in 2004. His responsive declaration was untrue, his testimony was untrue and in 2005, the poison fruit of his destructive hostility came home to roost. Nikque’ self esteem melted away, her happiness and glow faded and she regressed to crying, tantrums and toileting accidents. I’m not so quick to say that this was all caused by her being dragged out screaming and crying, while Rodney and his wife insulted and degraded me right in front of her, but I do know that having that happen over and over, while trying to adjust to the changes brought about by going from preschool to kindergarten and the likely (and reported) as well as obvious changes in the dynamics of her father’s household when he married were all factors. Any loving parent would have seen this as a time that a child needed more support, not more difficulties, but Rodney either didn’t see that or didn’t know what it looked like. The stability she enjoyed in the first six weeks of school, with no problems going to bed at night and no problems getting up in the morning had disappeared by the end of winter recess and the anger and hostility in her build up to a boiling point that when she returned to my custody after the Christmas Holiday told me “Mommy, I “H”-Word Daddy”. It was that statement which prompted me to make an immediate call to her EAP and get a referral to a counselor. Shortly thereafter, Nikque started seeing Dr. Calandra and I couldn’t help but begin to place blame. It’s not something I normally do, but in this case I couldn’t help but feel like someone had failed this child. I just wasn’t sure who it was. Any custody order that takes a gifted, well adjusted child and takes her back to a place that frankly she passed over the first time is A BAD CUSTODY ORDER. The child she was, got accepted to Brentwood, a school who states in no uncertain terms in their handbook that they are not equipped to deal with problem children, the child she became after the October 15, 2004 order, CLEARLY was not welcomed to return. The child she was did not need ongoing therapy, if she did, it would have been documented in her preschool evaluations, the child she became did need it and that fact was reinforced by Dr. Dawn Cunnion and Judy Rothman, LCSW in their meeting with Rodney and I on February 11, 2005 and by the insurance continued approval of her visits and payment of her claims. The child she was would go to the bathroom to use the bathroom, the child she is has been prescribed a stool softener to make sure she can’t hold her stools in and to force her (hopefully) to go to the bathroom frequently. She is ashamed and embarrassed, to the point that stopping soiling herself is written on her goal chart in code “keep pants clean” so no one will know. The child who loved herself and used to take such delight in the fact that everyone loved her so much, now say’s “she’s bad”, that she “the worst daughter ever” and that she wants to die. You don’t have to take my word for it; Dr. Calandra has heard her say and has seen her act it out more than once. From 2002 until today, Rodney’s answer to the problem was to keep a steady finger pointing a finger at me while I endlessly made pleas to seek resolution.

Rodney's Untreated Breakdown

Whether Rodney lost touch with reality after I served him the OSC filed August 4, 2004, or when he thought I intentionally caused Nikque to miss his wedding is as much a question as is was he ever in touch with reality? Or, is he simply an individual who does not tell the truth. Which ever it is, his anger, hostility and revenge took on an evil life of its own in 2004. His responsive declaration was untrue, his testimony was untrue and in 2005, the poison fruit of his destructive hostility came home to roost. Nikque’ self esteem melted away, her happiness and glow faded and she regressed to crying, tantrums and toileting accidents. I’m not so quick to say that this was all caused by her being dragged out screaming and crying, while Rodney and his wife insulted and degraded me right in front of her, but I do know that having that happen over and over, while trying to adjust to the changes brought about by going from preschool to kindergarten and the likely (and reported) as well as obvious changes in the dynamics of her father’s household when he married were all factors. Any loving parent would have seen this as a time that a child needed more support, not more difficulties, but Rodney either didn’t see that or didn’t know what it looked like. The stability she enjoyed in the first six weeks of school, with no problems going to bed at night and no problems getting up in the morning had disappeared by the end of winter recess and the anger and hostility in her build up to a boiling point that when she returned to my custody after the Christmas Holiday told me “Mommy, I “H”-Word Daddy”. It was that statement which prompted me to make an immediate call to her EAP and get a referral to a counselor. Shortly thereafter, Nikque started seeing Dr. Calandra and I couldn’t help but begin to place blame. It’s not something I normally do, but in this case I couldn’t help but feel like someone had failed this child. I just wasn’t sure who it was. Any custody order that takes a gifted, well adjusted child and takes her back to a place that frankly she passed over the first time is A BAD CUSTODY ORDER. The child she was, got accepted to Brentwood, a school who states in no uncertain terms in their handbook that they are not equipped to deal with problem children, the child she became after the October 15, 2004 order, CLEARLY was not welcomed to return. The child she was did not need ongoing therapy, if she did, it would have been documented in her preschool evaluations, the child she became did need it and that fact was reinforced by Dr. Dawn Cunnion and Judy Rothman, LCSW in their meeting with Rodney and I on February 11, 2005 and by the insurance continued approval of her visits and payment of her claims. The child she was would go to the bathroom to use the bathroom, the child she is has been prescribed a stool softener to make sure she can’t hold her stools in and to force her (hopefully) to go to the bathroom frequently. She is ashamed and embarrassed, to the point that stopping soiling herself is written on her goal chart in code “keep pants clean” so no one will know. The child who loved herself and used to take such delight in the fact that everyone loved her so much, now say’s “she’s bad”, that she “the worst daughter ever” and that she wants to die. You don’t have to take my word for it; Dr. Calandra has heard her say and has seen her act it out more than once. From 2002 until today, Rodney’s answer to the problem was to keep a steady finger pointing a finger at me while I endlessly made pleas to seek resolution.

Transformation Peaks!

In 2004, having been referred to “The Alliance for Minority Affairs”, I had completed what seemed like mountains of paperwork. This organization assisted “underrepresented” family in gaining admission and scholarships to independent (private) schools. I met with the Alliance counselor in December 2003. Gaining more information about the assistance they offered and the difficulty in getting into any one school in particular, I applied, through the Alliance, to The Mirman School for Gifted children, John Thomas Dye, Brentwood, and Turning Point. Their admissions process was grueling, each school requiring a minimum of three meetings with Nikque and/or myself. I provided Rodney with an envelope with brochures of the schools I was applying to in December of 2003. As far I can tell, he never bothered to contact any of the schools for a tour or classroom visit, he also never made any comment to me about his wishes, plans or concerns about kindergarten. In early 2004, I sent him an e-mail with links to the websites of all the school to which I was applying, again, I received no comment from Rodney. I was plenty busy and was perfectly content to allow him to comment or complain as he wished, I didn’t feel obligated to do anything more than I had. Realizing that there was no guarantee that she would be accepted to any of the private schools, I still had to visit one public school after another, also knowing that the best rated schools would do all they could to keep there high ratings and in many cases, in their view, it meant keeping out anyone who didn’t live within their schools boundaries. For that reason, transfers and permits to elementary schools surrounding the Century City area where I worked were far and few between. Warner, Fairburn, Overland and Clover, all 850 + API schools were not accepting any transfers. Westwood Charter had a lottery system for open spots, and I didn’t get one. Further away, Brentwood Science Magnent, Kenter Canyon, Hancock Park and Castle Heights were also declaring they were full. Canfield seemed to be the only school remaining which thought they might have openings for the 2004-2005 school years and even this school claimed that you could loose your spot in subsequent years if increases in the population of neighborhood children occurred, further, they were a second level choice of schools because their API was only in the mid 700’s. I only considered this school and a couple of others with scores in the mid 700’s after visiting the kindergarten classroom and determining that they had a clear system of separating students for assignments in a way where they could teach them at levels based on their abilities. Through January, February and March of 2004, I was half absent from the office as I visited one school after another and my manager noticed. I was cautioned that my attendance was below par. I approached this task with the presumption that I would not have to do it again for MANY, MANY years, it ever. Now thanks to the disruptive and non-compliant behavior from Rodney throughout the 2004-2005 year at Brentwood, I will likely have to go through this entire process again for the 2006-2007 school year, and based on the research I have done and the clientele which Brentwood school draws, I cannot help but to expect that any school to which Nikque is accepted in this area will be a step down from Brentwood. I am committed to providing Nikque with the best education I can, and to nurturing and stimulating her intellect, but there is little chance of being admitted to one of the truly superior private schools beyond the Kindergarten year. Most of the schools report two or less openings in subsequent years. I visited at least 15 schools in all, and some more than once. It is beyond frustrating to have watched all my hard work go up in flames with the blessings of Los Angeles Superior Court. Every private school that is part of CAIS (California Association of Independent Schools) all part of a close knit community. Often, I will see the names of the admissions directors for many of the same schools I applied to on the same panels and advisory boards. It would be nearly impossible to make an application to another member school without having details of the disruption and non-compliance at Brentwood disclosed. To be sure, other schools would steer clear, fully knowing that no child subjected to years disruptive upbringing would likely yield a pupil they would be proud to profile even with the best educational opportunities. Further, private schools were significantly more expensive that I thought they would be (ranging from more than $15k to $20k per year) and I could not afford the tuition without scholarship assistance. With paying customers waiting in line along with grateful and compliant scholarship families, there is no compelling incentive to focus on Nikque when they feel both parents are not. In the beginning of June 2004, I asked Rodney to pay the $3,700 remaining balance of Nikque’ tuition to Brentwood, and his response shocked me. I believe you have the e-mail exchange about this issue in your possession. I pulled out a letter that Rodney had given to me when I was pregnant with seven commitments, I am enclosing a copy for your examination. When I got his e-mail in response to my request for his assistance on Nikque’ behalf (up to this date, I had never asked him for anything and had received as much), I was amazed not only that he had been so irresponsible but also that he was so hostile and indignant as if I had no right. I read the letter Rodney wrote again and crossed number three off the list. There were no promises (written or un-written) left for him to break and I realized that he had no intentions of keep a single one of his promises. Therefore, I could not keep mine and still meet my obligations to Nikque. It took me almost two months to have the time to prepare the paperwork, but during the first week of August 2004, I filed an OSC requesting a change in custody to accommodate the Kindergarten schedule and carpool requirements and for the first time ever, I requested child support.

Transition Takes Flight - And Soars!!

The year of 2003 was a very good year. Beneath Rodney’s radar, I began to eradicate all weaknesses that history had taught me Rodney would twist in any way possible to use against me. By the summer of 2003, I had rid myself of my personal demons. I was medication free, depression free and thanks to the type of person Rodney had become involved with, and the type of person he had become, I was also Rodney free. I set the wheels in motion for better health with the primary motivating factor being to set a better example of good health for my daughter. My best efforts to give her a healthy meal while I over indulged in fettuccini alfredo and a root beer float for dinner and desert were a failure as I watched her constantly pick off of my plate and sip from my cup. Realizing that time was precious, I decided that spending another few years on weight loss programs with a failure rate of at least 95%, I had to deal with this problem NOW. Never loosing sight of the fact that I wanted to emphasize “good health” not body size, I reached my goal weight in about 18 months. All the while, I was constantly frustrated at the comments she brought home from her father’s house about not wanting to get too fat as I am well aware that considering her chosen activities, she is already at risk of being over criticized and rejected based purely on her appearance. She needed reinforcements that would assure her self-esteem and positive body image to counteract that influence. It would be especially important for her to not succumb to unrealistic air-brushed images and the common resulting eating disorders of young women, especially in entertainment. This was also the year Nikque was signed by a talent agent. She had proven her dedication by waiting in line more than five hours to audition for “The Most Talented Kid in America”. I used my best offers to lure her away, but she refused to leave until she got “her turn”. During that five hour period, we discussed why we were there, and talked about how many children were competing and she was unfazed. She wanted to be an actor and a model, she wanted to be famous “like Lizzie McGuire” as she told me at the time, and today she still hold’s fast on both her natural talent for performance and her dedication to work towards that goal. My support of her was necessary. Nikque had earned my support of her dreams. I concluded that as long as it was safe and legal, I would not to force my agenda upon her. Entertainment was an industry I avoided despite receiving numerous awards and winning many talent contests for my own singing as a young woman, but I learned my efforts were much better spent on teaching her to avoid common pitfalls of that pathway instead of trying to make her chose a different one. It was hardly different from the attempts I made to help her navigate the increasing complaints she had about time spent in her father’s custody. I knew he didn’t listen to anything I said, how could he possibly hear me speak if he shouting insults and profanity over me and at me, it was even more difficult for him to hear if he refused to come to the phone and handed the phone off to Ursula to verbally abuse me, but I didn’t understand to the extent he would ignore his daughter’s cries for help until November 4, 2004.

The year of 2003 proved an active year for Nikque and I as I begin to attend birthday parties of her friends, pushing through my shyness and preference to avoid large gatherings, I recognized that Nikque was a social butterfly extraordinaire, we went to as many parties as we were invited on weekends she was with me and whenever she had a choice of doing something with me or her friends, her friends usually won. Not a problem, I love watching that glow she gets when she really, REALLY happy. Nothing compares to those moments. Nikque had a full social calendar and she genuinely enjoyed herself. Not because I told her she had to enjoy herself, but because she shared her joy’s with me and I loved the fact that she felt I was doing a great job at raising her. It motivated me to try harder. The “I love you” sometimes six, seven or eight times a day was priceless. Sometimes, she would say “Mommy?” and when I responded; she would pause and just say “I love you”. Once I asked her if that was what she originally planned on saying and she told me she had forgotten what she was going to say, but that “I love you” was always true so that’s why she said it. That brought tears to my eyes. Nikque asked about taking Dance, Gymnastics and Karate because it was offered at her preschool and she saw the practices and though it would be fun. I was determined to ensure that she had adequate swimming skills to be safe around water. I never realized that she would love swimming so much, but I was thrilled. Ever since the “Nike” commercials several years ago with young girls saying “if you let me play sports, I’ll be less likely to…..” and ultimately rattled off a number of undesirable traps and road blocks that plague young women (allowing abuse, teen pregnancy, low self esteem), I figured my daughter would be the next “Serena Williams” tennis champion extraordinaire and she would avoid those “icky” pitfalls. But Nikque was “girly, girl” inside so I was only minimally surprised when, after she competed in her first pageant, she wanted to do it again and again. I admit I would have preferred that she pick something else, but I also knew that trying to redefine who she was would only be trouble down the line. Until this year, I thought she enjoyed the dress up more than anything else, but she was not satisfied with her an impressive 2^nd runner up placing out of about 15 girls in the 6-9 category of the Miss California State finals this year. In a category where many six year old girls struggle to compete with girls up to age ten years old (based on the birthday cutoff), Nikque, who only turned six only three months before the competition and who’s seven or eight pageant competitions pales in comparison to the average 100+ for a top five place girl in this age category begin to talk like a serious competitor. I realized, for the moment, this was her “sport”.

Hearing her be told she was beautiful so often, I considered maybe I should try and shift focus, so I started telling her how smart I thought she was. Well imagine my surprise when I learned that she was actually REALLY smart. With an IQ of 145, in the 99^th percentile, her Stanford-Binet test cost $300, I paid for it and not only did it confirm what her preschool teachers had been telling me about her, but it gave me insight and perspective into something which I had no real frame of reference, she was special in even more ways than I had realized up to that point. She wasn’t just smart, but perceptive, wise and insightful. As I sat through a small portion of her Stanford-Binet examination, I realized that some of the testing content couldn’t be “taught” to a child her age. They just had to be able to figure it out. Obviously, it makes sense, if it wasn’t that way everyone could teach their child to score as gifted, but I hadn’t thought about it before. It wasn’t long before, I didn’t know which was more uncomfortable having her tell someone “I know” when they told her she was beautiful, or having her say “I’m gifted” when a grocery clerk told her how smart she sounded. I decided some teaching in humility was in order and begin incorporating such conversations into daily life. We read books about humility and I would point out to her characters on TV or in stories who despite their outer beauty, were disliked by their peers because of their pride, and obnoxious or condescending behavior. In late 2003, I began the intensive search for a school. This tasks was yet another massive undertaking that Rodney CHOSE to allow me to navigate on my own.

Transformation Begins - Incognito

In 2002, I continued the psychotherapy I had begin in 2001 and when my insurance stopped paying after 26 visits, I paid the invoices myself (I didn’t pay off my last medical bill until earlier this year). When I returned to work from a forced leave of absence, my department head had been through everything in my office and on my computer looking for reasons to discipline me, fortunately, none of the allegations I faced when I returned held water, but my department head did hold a grudge. As such, I lost my contract, and my pay increases and bonuses were only a fraction of what had been before this unusually embarrassing episode for the department head. She was identified to be on a “witch hunt” by the powers that be and I was vindicated. In spite of all this, I was able to set aside any hard feelings towards her and my effort to ensure she knew I had no grudge was a success. Although I had done nothing wrong, my overtures to her were as genuine as my attempts to assure Rodney that there was always a place for him in Nikque’ life and even though I sought an official custody agreement, and although I began to notice that Nikque’ behavior was disturbingly anxious when she visited her dad (it was this year that the crying begin), I sought to resolve the problems, not to dissolve Rodney from Nikque’ life even though it was clear that the problem was associated with going to his house. Reading through the e-mails I previously sent as well as the court transcripts and motions filed provide insight into Rodney’s refusal to take responsibility for his relationship with Nikque. Every problem in his relationship with her, according to him, are my fault.

The Great Deception

2001 – Was the worst year of my life so far, and hopefully the worst ever and contrary to what has been said, it had everything to do with the emotional abuse I endured in my struggle to determine what was reality and what was not because what Rodney told me DID NOT match what I saw going on around me. In 2001, my sense of reality was tested. I emerged from this dark period feeling like I was the most stable (emotional, financial and otherwise) and committed parent Nikque had and at the moment it wasn’t terribly comforting. Rodney had become consumed in his abusive, cruel, and uncaring behaviors and in a sense it was the best and worst thing that could have happened for me, because his behavior made me fight to make sure that he wasn’t the only parent Nikque would have either literally or figuratively. Regardless of how bad I felt at any moment in time, it felt worse to consider that Nikque would have to be raised by a person who appeared to be capable of nothing but anger, hostility, vengeance and malice. It would have been much easier to believe that his new attitude was strictly confined to me if he hadn’t left his daughter with me, behind a slammed door, frequently leaving the city, and at least once leaving the country while Nikque was left to be cared for by me alone battling with severe depression which was made worse by anti-depressants. Getting appropriate treatment was difficult and expensive as traditional medicine only recycled me through one anti-depressant combination after another. I went from anti-depressants, to hypnosis and from hypnosis to biofeedback and I learned that my “happy pill” was not a pill at all, but it carried the hefty price tag without insurance coverage. The time and money I spent in varying treatments for depression sparked compassion in me for people who don’t have resources that I did to explore the various treatments I underwent. I could have easily given up after I failed to experience significant improvement with as many as ten different combinations of anti-depressants, almost lost my job and felt completely hopeless day and night, but I would look into Nikque’ eyes to remind myself that I had to fight on and I began to use those sleepless nights for research. Failure wasn’t an option. Throughout my dark days and sleepless nights, I begin to investigate the causes of depression and conditions which were linked to depression and I attacked them one by one. One by one I was successful.

Pregnancy - 2000 Ajusting to Motherhood

2000 - I started a job in Pasadena on March 26, 2000. I loved this job by all accounts, but needed a closer child care center (preferable something between both our jobs, again considering his access) and wanted to move to avoid the commute from West La to Pasadena. Again, I invited Rodney into the process of “day care hunting” and again, he declined. In June of 2000, only months later, the job of my dreams came along. I didn’t know it at the time, and the decision to leave a job I loved, for a job that had an on-site daycare center was not an easy one. I asked Rodney his thoughts, in attempt to ascertain the impact he felt this would have on him. He had no comment. I asked him if he wanted to visit the daycare center here at Fox before I made a decision and again after the decision was made, he declined. I accepted the job here at Fox and started on June 26, 2000, I have never regretted my decision. The remainder of 2000 was intense, I was in an environment where no other employees in the department really knew and understood the system they had just implemented. Usually, Rodney would pick Nikque up on Monday and Tuesday (Tuesday was payroll processing day and frequently, I needed to stay late to support payroll), I would pick her up Wednesday and Thursday and we would alternate Friday-Monday. Again, this was an arrangement I suggested based on demands of the job and an ongoing consideration for the best way for Rodney to remain a significant presence in his daughter’s life. It would have been easy enough for me to pick her up myself everyday since she was right here and require Rodney to come to ME to see her or pick her up, but I did not. As I always have, I attempted to make his access to Nikque as simple and flexible as possible. Fox daycare was opened until 7pm to support the company working hours of 9-6 and Rodney lived and worked relatively nearby. I thought things ran smoothly throughout the rest of this year. As always, I always fought my personal feelings over the on again, off again relationship with Rodney in favor of Nikque best interest and did all I could to make Rodney feel free to access his daughter as he pleased, but nothing I did was ever enough. Rodney LOOKED for things to label as me trying to keep him from Nikque and when there was nothing to misinterpret as interference, he appeared to invent it out of thin air. Meanwhile, I went above and beyond my wildest imagination to make sure that I didn’t make his relationship with Nikque dependent on a relationship with me. It was during this year that I realized Nikque wasn’t exactly the person I expected her to be. I prepared for motherhood based on my limited experience in dealing with my younger brother and my niece. Both were very smart but very “high maintenance” as infants and toddlers. Nikque, was different. She was certainly as smart as any baby, but she rarely cried. She had been sleeping through the night at about four or five months old and was happy and content always. I found I had to pay extra attention to her needs because she could be soaking wet or soiled and probably wouldn’t become cranky. I felt exceptionally fortunate to have a child that was so happy all the time and I found myself constantly beaming with pride as she charmed one person after another from checkout clerks, to family, friends and co-workers. My collection of pictures grew, as I couldn’t stop snapping pictures of my little 1999 champion of the LaTiejera Child infant smile contest. I was proud, but not surprised and I sometimes wondered where she got her joy since neither Rodney or I were great examples of joy as far as I could tell.

Financial recovery came quickly as I rebuild from three months without any income, but that something I was actually confident in my ability to do. I had started out my adult life on shaky ground financially, but by 1993, I was a fiscally responsible person, beyond most people I knew at my age. I was determined and ambitious and after becoming hopelessly in debt by the time I reached my 21^st birthday, I had decided that this was NOT the way I wanted to live my life. I replaced Cosmopolitan with Smart Money, and National Enquirer with Individual Investor. I bought my first individual stock when I was twenty four years old. I bought a handful of shares of “Apollo Group” and while you may not recognize that particular holding company, you probably recognize the name “University of Phoenix”. I did as well on that stock as that institution has done and repeated my success on Check Free Corporation. I knew everyone would pay their bills that way one day and by 25, I had an impressive portfolio. Dedicated to financial research and with a knack for picking trends, I knew by early 2000, that it was time to pull my money out of an overvalued stock market and invest in “Real” Estate. Real estate investment in Southern California isn’t (and wasn’t) an easy task, but I knew that I wanted to beat the rush of everyone else pulling their money out of imploding stock market and investing in something tangible. And the day’s of reading free copies of Wall Street Journal along with a few civics and government classes in high school and college taught me what happened when too much money chased too few resources. I succeeded in beating the rush when I closed on my West LA Condo in October of 2000.

Mommy Auto Piolot - 1999

1999 – After Nikque was born, I left my job as a consultant because I didn’t think continuing in that line of work was in her best interest. I returned to work at a new job in El Segundo, CA a few miles south of my apartment on June 1, 1999. Although the benefits were not as good, the pay was and I felt that this was a better choice for a mom. Before returning to work and actually before 1999, I begin looking for appropriate child care. I began to understand something I had peripherally heard for years, good child care was very hard to find, good and affordable infant care was even harder to find. When I enrolled Nikque at La Tiejera Center for Children, I was confident that she was in good hands. The monthly tuition was the second highest of any centers at $715 for five days a week and that required me to provide all of her daily meals. The most expensive center was over $1,000 /mo (the Knowledge Beginnings facility for Hughes employees had opened to the public after their center was not filled by Hughes employees) and the cost did include meals, but I liked this one better. So, here I was, with a child care that I liked and no, there was nothing lucky about finding it. It was pounding the pavement until my feet bleed (metaphorically speaking, of course), but Nikque was worth that effort as far as I was concerned. I dropped Nikque off in the morning and Rodney picked her up, but in hindsight, I wonder if he was a willing participant and simply accepted that arrangement because it was what I suggested. After all, he had been offered and declined to participate in the selection process so I really had no idea whether or not he was okay with the arrangement and he didn’t elaborate.

Soon after Nikque birth, I set about buying two of everything she needed. Rodney had complained substantially about his lack of financial readiness to care for a child, so I wanted to give him to opportunity to reach his financial objectives, pay off debts etc. In addition to buying two identical car seats which cost over $100 each, I also purchased two cribs, one for my apartment and one for Rodney’s. Well, technically I purchased two, but literally, I purchased one and the other one, Rodney purchased on the credit card that I had given to him on my account to purchase things that Nikque needed. I didn’t want Nikque to need for anything. Now it would have been much easier, to simply leave all this for him to decided and buy or not buy on his own. I could have counted on the fact that he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) afford the extra’s and then he would have to be more dependent on me to see Nikque, and would have to visit her at my place, right? No doubt that’s what a manipulator would do. Rodney has called me a manipulator to my face on many occasions, and no doubt behind my back, but the manipulator he kept looking over his shoulders for never materialized, not in my form anyway. I wanted Nikque to have the best life possible, and I believed with all my heart the best life included access to both parents, or at least I was going to give that a chance. If there was to be less than two parents, I determined that it should not be because I deprived Nikque her father, so, I never did. If anything, Nikque had a stronger bond with her father than she did with me during this year because I worked long hours in El Segundo - hours to long for a new mother. On December 1, 1999, I tendered my one month notice; December 31, 1999 was my last day. For three months, I was unemployed, I continued at to pay for part-time enrollment for Nikque at La Tiejera on Mon, Wed & Fri for a reduced monthly rate of $525 so I could look for work and to preserve my space there, but I enjoyed spending time with her. She was as delightful a baby as she is a child and I could take her with me just about anywhere without a problem. During that time, I used my savings and some of my 401k from a previous employer to make ends meet, but still remained self sufficient without any financial assistance (or offer of financial assistance from Rodney).

Welcome To My Life Nikque

At the hospital, I gave our daughter the name Nikque Monique Boyd-Holling because Rodney still showed so many signs of indifference towards parenting. I later determined that this was simply his insecurity in that he wouldn’t participate in making any important decisions, but learning while in labor that a pediatrician had not been selected did not give me much confidence and he had declined to participate in the search for a day care center.

From the period of my amniocentesis and several months after Nikque was born, I struggled with a number of issues unrelated to parenting, but Rodney seemed to be adjusting to being a father and bonding with Nikque just as I was and since I was unable to breastfeed, Rodney was free to see Nikque and take her with him to visit family etc. as he desired, I never doubted his ability to handle the basics of feeding and changing Nikque and she was as low maintenance as I had ever seen in any baby, with her basic needs being met along with lots of love and nurturing from many extended family, she didn’t seem to want for much else.

A Pregnancy at Risk......

Just about every possible difficulty one could experience during pregnancy, I experienced it. From the first trimester bleeding to a high AFP test in trimester two. I had another ultrasound and an amniocentesis at five months to rule out Spina Bifida. Again, I thought I was being “given” a way out as my research suggested that a child with severe cases of Spina Bifida live very short and painful lives. I thought that was a pregnancy I could terminate, but testing showed everything was fine. Rodney’s attitude seemed to change after that and he joined me for Lamaze classes which I had decided to schedule earlier than the norm because of my travel schedule and pregnancy complications. That turned out to be a wise decision because by month seven, I was in the doctor’s office every Tuesday and Friday to monitor our daughter’s irregular heartbeat. Friday, March 19, 1999 about three weeks before my due date, a disturbing non-stress test prompted my new OB/GYN, Dr. Toni Long to instruct me to go home, pack a bag and check myself into Santa Monica hospital for induction of labor. Rodney met me there and stayed until Nikque was born at 1:15am Oscar Sunday, March 21, 1999 (I guess I should have known then Nikque was born to perform, but I didn’t figure that out until years later). Nikque came out on the second push, umbilical cord around her neck, and mecconium in her amniotic fluid. I only got to hold her briefly after she was born, and then she was taken away to be put under a warming lamp. To some extent, I consider her a miracle baby, mostly because she went through such a troubled pregnancy just to make it into the world. She was already a fighter at zero days old, and she commanded my utmost respect. She had earned it.

Pregnancy Sabatoge?

Long after I made the connection between the arguments I had on the phone with Rodney from my hotel room (I was a consultant and worked in Northern California Monday through Thursday for several months into my pregnancy) and the onset of bleeding episodes I continued to argue with him. His hostility towards me was more acceptable than it should have been, but as the signs of pregnancy started to manifest their self to me, the self sabotage was no longer an acceptable option. I told Rodney he had many options, but tormenting me was not one of them. I blocked him from my home phone, e-mail and every other way I could think of. He caught me on my cell phone only hours before I was scheduled to have my number changed, and promised to treat me better. I decided I should, in fairness, give him the benefit of the doubt. There was nothing easy about what was happening. But doubt became the standard fair as his treatment of me was as inconsistent as night and day. In response to an angry e-mail accusing me of future crimes of “treating him like a sperm donor” and “taking him to court to garnishing his wages”, I promised Rodney he could chose to be an equal parent without interference from me. I also promised that I would not interfere with his career advance and pursuit of finical stability. He would cover our child with his insurance and nothing more. I extended an olive branch in allowing him to give our daughter a name. Nikque Monique was the name he chose and is the name she has. I asked him to select a pediatrician from his health plan provider directory. He told me he didn’t know how to pick a pediatrician, I told him, neither did I.

Unplanned Pregnancy 101

At the beginning of my pregnancy, I didn’t struggle with what to do. I made an appointment at the nearest “family planning” clinic and went in. They performed what was probably my fifth pregnancy test, and confirmed a positive result. I made an appointment for “termination” several days from that date. In between the time I made that appointment and the next, I started bleeding for an unexplained reason. Instinctively, I called my OB/GYN’s office, the one I had been seeing for about eight years, and told her I was pregnant and bleeding. I was secretly hoping and believing that the responsibility of terminating the pregnancy was being removed from my shoulders. I was traveling on business when my OB/GYN returned my call and told me to come into the office when I returned to town that Friday. She cautioned that if the bleeding became excessive and couldn’t be controlled with OTC “menstrual” products, or if cramping developed, I should go to emergency immediately. Even though I did develop cramping and the interpretation of “controlled bleeding” was questionable, today I can admit, I was hoping for a mis-carriage. When my doctor examined me, she wrote something on a slip of paper I couldn’t read and told me to go across the street to Brotman Hospital. Everyone there treated me like a woman who was glad to be pregnant, with no knowledge of my internal conflict. Everyone at the hospital was compassionate and kind. They went about having me change my clothes and directed me to a room. The apparent hustle and rustle that followed was a blue compared to to the moment a woman who I NOW know was a special “vaginal ultrasound technician” (I had never heard of this kind of ultrasound before) pulled back a curtain, pointed to what looked like a bean, on what looked like a black and white monitor, and she said “see right there, that’s your baby, and there is the heartbeat”. Nothing about this pregnancy was the same after that. It happened so fast and was so unexpected that before I had the chance to say much of anything, what minutes ago, was a huge problem was now “my baby”, with a heartbeat, with life, and I had (and still have) reverence for life. I don’t step on a bug if I can instead put it outside. The few days between that day and the abortion appointment was a blur, I arrived for my appointment and looked around. Everyone there was either obviously very young, or appeared to be underprivileged. I felt ashamed and out of place sitting there and I kept replaying “that’s your baby, and that’s the heartbeat” in my mind. Unable to quiet my internal noise, I walked up to reception and rescheduled my appointment for a week later claiming that my ride home couldn’t make it. I was rescheduled with a caution from reception that the window for terminating a pregnancy was finite. I arrived for the next appointment, but left without saying anything to anyone and without rescheduling. This time, I hadn’t even arranged for a ride home, in the back of my mind, all I could hear was “that is your baby, and that it’s heartbeat” again, I considered that I could tell Rodney that the pregnancy had been terminated and make a disappearing act. Again, I decided it wouldn’t be fair.

Uh oh, am I really pregnant?

My pregnancy with Nikque was an unplanned one that occurred under unusual circumstances. Unusual because I became pregnant several months after Rodney ended our relationship in the “official and exclusive” sense anyway. I’m sure you have been given you insight into how difficult this break-up was for me, although probably not the right reasons. I’m not sure the reasons are significant, so I won’t go into details, but I’m happy to share it with you from my point of view, if you feel it’s relevant. From day one Rodney made no secret of the fact that he felt I had gotten pregnant on purpose to trap him. This was the first time I found myself perplexed at the length’s he would go to victimize himself, it didn’t matter to him that neither he nor I knew anyone who had gotten married, or even together because of a pregnancy, in the black community this is absurdly unheard of. I knew I hadn’t gotten pregnant on purpose, but my state of mind over the breakup in general contributed to a carelessness that did not and would not have existed prior to the breakup. I have a deep respect and reverence for parents and consider parenting the most important responsibility any person could ever have. I’m not afraid to admit I was frightened by the seeming insurmountable task that lay ahead. I had planned to live my life without having any children of my own, figuring that if I adopted a child at the right point in my live, I could give that child a better life than being raised in one foster home after another. I’ve always been strongly rooted in my values, and I have a very high moral standard for myself, not one that I attempt to impose on others, but one that provides me with a clear conscious. The foundation of my value system is above all, never to intentionally inflict hurt of any kind on another person and when possible, try to ease the inevitable pain and hurts that are a normal part of each of our lives. Like anyone, I’ve missed the mark on occasions, but certainly no more than the average person does, quite possibly less because I am so committed to and aware of the necessity to make the effort. With that foundation, I gave Rodney a choice; I offered him the freedom to COMPLETELY walk away from this situation, a man can not get any further away from being trapped than that. My foundation for that decision was that if I could abort a man’s child against his will (although, Rodney did NOT object, but desired a termination of pregnancy in this case), then it was only fair, to give him the opportunity to get out just like I could. Naturally I’m met more people than not who found this logic flawed, but I greatly appreciate those who recognize the morality of my attempt to be as fair as possible in my opening the door for him to walk away. I’m would suspect that today we are all seeing the effect of “forced parenting” and how much more harmful it is than an absent parent. At the time, the decision to tell Rodney about the pregnancy at all was a dilemma, today, it is regret. I knew he wouldn’t be happy with the situation, but I also remember specifically asking him in the early weeks we dated; if I ever learned I was pregnant and I knew my decision, would he want to know about it, no matter what. He had said yes, that answer was no closer to the truth than many other declarations he had made before and since. But not know that at the time, I felt it would be unfair to ask the question, find myself in the situation and fail to meet the standard I felt I had set by asking the question. I went one step further and also asked, “If I told you that you had a choice, 1) I terminate the pregnancy or, 2) I carry the child to term, but you raise the child without me, what would you do”. He said he would chose to raise the child on his own over abortion. Asking the question was nothing more than my attempt to get to know Rodney better (I still believe having similar values in a relationship is important), however, I still have no idea why he answered the way he did as clearly, his behavior has not reflected that position. I specifically remember telling Rodney that if by some chance I were to ever get pregnant, I hoped I had the strength (and fully expected) to have an abortion, but having known several women who had abortions over they years, and I’ve never met anyone who felt prepared for how it affected their life and for how long – male and female.