You Have A Collect Call From ____ At The County Jail

Today has been a real reality check!!  My daughter started her first day of HIGH SCHOOL and my son started his first day of Middle School.  I can’t believe the time has gone by so fast.  I’m not one to show my emotions too much but this got me.  It was 11 years ago, my sons age, that I received that dreaded call,  “You have a collect call from the ___ County Jail.”  Never did I think that 11 years later he’d still be there, well in prison.

The Call

The day I received the call, my heart dropped and I immediately thought to myself…”you done #$^$#% up now.”  But since we had started premarital counseling I learned how to communicate a little better.   I didn’t let those exact words fly from my mouth.  But my fiancé was convinced that he would be home in a couple of days.  I felt it, I knew better but I remained hopeful.  Now, let me clarify, I do believe people must receive consequences for the things they do wrong but that’s not what this post is about.

I was pregnant, and my daughter was three years old.  Day after day I continued to talk to his attorney but all efforts failed.  I held out as long as I could to keep from mentioning his arrest to my parents.  But of course, you know parents know when something just isn’t right.  They know their children and can sense trouble miles away.  To make a long story short, I had no choice but to break the news to them.  I continued to stay at our home thinking that soon something would give.  Our son was due in a few months and I thought he’d be out by then even if he was released until a reporting date. WRONG!! No release point, blank, period.  I was experiencing all kinds of emotions:  mad, sad, frustrated, depressed, angry, embarrassed, betrayed, lonely, abandoned, fear.  You name it I probably felt it.

The only thing that kept me sane at that moment was God.  I constantly prayed.  All I knew was if I had to deal with post par tum depression in addition to what was going on I just might have cracked right on up.  But I continued to pray for peace and strength to get through each day.   Thankfully, when my son was born, I didn’t experience not one bit of depression!  I had to wait to hear from my fiancé to share the news of our son’s arrival, the delivery experience and of course he wanted to know who he looked like.

The Move

I eventually had to move back home.  Now, you know when you move out of your parents home, the last thing you want to do is to move back.  Oh well, life happens.  I didn’t experience post par tum depression but I did experience I Gotta Move Back Home Depression.  Not just move back home depression, but I gotta move back home with my kids and my fiance in prison depression.  I can laugh now but OMG!  Those were some painful days! But I was thankful to have the support of my family and friends.

My New Normal

After months of depression and just feeling lost, I knew I had to find a way to support my children and myself.  The collect calls became way too expensive.  We had to rely on letter writing.  I don’t think I had written a letter since middle or high school.  As time went on, I knew I had to support my children and myself.  I had a degree in biology so I took a job as a science teacher.  I must say that was the best therapy for me.  I was able to step away from the reality of my situation for 8 hours of the day not to mention get quite a few good laughs in with my students.  They actually helped to bring me life at a pretty trying time.

So why am I sharing this?  I’m sharing this for those of you that will go through and are going through this situation.  It’s not easy.  It will get easier.  You will learn to live your new norm but it will remain difficult.  Especially if children are involved.  There is a stigma that comes with families who have loved ones incarcerated.  And especially to those who decide to marry or stay married to their husbands.  Just know that you are not alone.  There are several of us that are experiencing these roller coaster emotions.