Comfortably Becoming The Scapegoat

There has to be a time when you allow your children to use you as an excuse. We're at that point. Tiffany has made some hasty choices as some of you may know, fell for the wrong people, trusted in stuff she shouldn't have even considered. Thanks to much therapy, great counselors and tons of tears she's at a point where she knows that these choices were wrong. She's the one coming to us and asking for help in getting on with her life now. It's crazy how night and day she is but when you consider the fact that the choices she was making with the internet predator/crazy-old-man-who-tries-to-say-he's-in-love-with-my-daughter while she was hormonal and rebounding from her relationship with Boris (the biological father of her baby) it all makes sense.

Yes I said it. My almost 19 year old is pregnant. She's 37 weeks pregnant to be exact. She's had a rough last couple months while she made some really hard decisions in her life. It's been a daily struggle for her and for all of us, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

The Church has an amazing system with LDS Family Services. Really people, it's absolutely phenomenal. She has been attending sessions with her personal counselor since the "airline ticket" debacle of November that freaked her out to no end. She was over her head and came to us in a panic because she realized that the person with whom she was simply "playing house" in her head with...well...he was totally serious. How serious?  He sent her a plane ticket and a "secret" phone and when the car showed up at the house to pick her up for the airport she hid under blankets. HID UNDER BLANKETS my friends.

This is when the title of this post will start to make sense. We told her that she had to make these decisions on her own but that we had rules in our home. If she wanted to live here, she, like everyone else in our house, had to follow simple and basic rules. The same rules she's always had. This is when she went into her own little world for a few days and when she came out and wanted to talk at 1 am in our bedroom, she had a plan in store.

She asked us how to get out of her "relationship" with the older man from across the country. See, this is where we as parents wanted to say "call him and tell him it's over!" but we've learned that if the decision isn't one the child makes, it doesn't stick. So we told her that we'd be here to support her decisions but she had to do it herself. For her, this meant blaming us for the "breakup".

This bothered me for a while but at this point, I don't even care even more. Let me be the scapegoat. Let me take the fall because if it comes to the health and safety of my daughter, I'll bear the burden. He has messaged me on Facebook calling me a liar (he found my post about internet predators...and somehow thinks it doesn't apply, yet he's over 30 and sending/sneaking her a "secret" cell phone to a BARELY 18 YEAR OLD PREGNANT GIRL. Ok...it's called denial. Look into it sicko) and telling me that he's found God and that he forgives me for being so terrible and messing up his life.  People, he sent me the most recent message as late as December 31, 2010. Yeah, like a week ago.

Anyway, her choice to avoid and hide from "him" was hers. Hers ALONE. I can't tell you how many nights I was curled up into the fetal position facing Mike while he rubbed my back as I sobbed. Scared that she'd come in and tell me that she was going to go with him, but we told her to make the choice. We had to allow her that as she's an adult (but barely...) and because we believe in personal choice and accountability.  Firmly. We run our household tightly on that value system.  It is painful, but it works.

Anyway, she has been focused on her baby and the future of this sweet little girl. She has found a family she is going to place the baby with and we couldn't be more proud of her. She's being harassed by the biological father's family, and by the kids in our ward/neighborhood, as are some of our other kids, but we're tough. She's tough. We're supporting her in this decision and there's nothing she could do for this baby that could be more unselfish.

We're getting the whole "if you don't want the baby, give it to us" story from the parents of the father of the baby. PLEASE PEOPLE. PLEASE!  Don't come to my house on a Sunday night and try to reprimand us on our "selfish" daughter who is giving your poor baby away to a stranger. You have no idea how hard this is for Tiffany.

Again, the title of this post...We're assuming the role of the scapegoats. Because of a language barrier with the biological grandparents (they're El Salvadorian and speak VERY little english) we have to speak to them through someone else. He translates, they speak, he translates again, we speak, he translates again, they growl and throw their hands in the air, then they speak, then he translates, then we drop our mouths to the floor as he tells us their interpretation of "adoption"...and so forth.  At the end of it all, they keep telling her to "stop listening to your mama and papa...don't give this baby away! They don't control you!" So once again. We're taking the blame for this, that's what they think the situation is. We're forcing her to give the baby to complete strangers. Mmmhmm...that's who Mike and I are. Right.

Our bishop is on Tiff's side. He supports her 150%. We support her. Our neighbors support her. Our FAMILY supports her. She is in the middle of a huge circle of support...

Longest story short...we're taking the blame for her ignoring the internet weirdo boyfriend who still thinks they're going to live happily ever after. She thinks he's sad and weird now, but doesn't want to hurt him. I get it. Whatever. We'll take that blame.

We're taking the blame for her giving her baby up. Fine. We'll take it. Sue us. Let's see a court who will do a thing to us when our ADULT daughter signs the relinquishment papers.  By the way, the papers are VERY clear in their verbiage. They make sure that the mother is under no influence of any person or drug or alcohol when she signs.  Again. Scapegoats.  Just call us the Easley Goat's Gruff. For fun.

Wow. That was long and I typed it all in like 23 seconds. Sorry it was so blubbery. That's how I rollsies.