Deb's thoughts

St. Charles County — A nanny should get seven years in prison — the maximum sentence — for assaulting a 4-month-old St. Peters boy, a jury recommended Tuesday. The same jury of seven women and five men who found Rebecca L. Harris guilty on Monday decided unanimously to recommend the sentence. Harris, 22, of O'Fallon, Mo., hit the baby's head against a wall causing severe injuries, authorities said. late Tuesday afternoon.

The above paragraph was taken from a story in the St. Louis Post Dispatch written by Shane Anthony

What do you think of the sentence? Do you think it was enough?

It hurts my heart to hear these stories.  I have cared for children abused in this way I know the pain, anger, and hurt it causes the people that love this child.

I also know the frustration a screaming, crying baby can cause.  I understand how someone can reach this point. I will never understand the abuse that is thought about or planned, but this, this impulsive, frustration driven abuse, I do understand.  I think any parent that is completely honest with themselves can understand it also. 

I'm going to tell you a story, one that took years for me to tell anyone.  
When my first child was about 8 months old, my husband and I were in Ft. Hood, Texas. (This was back in 1972 ) He was in the army. This was my first child, I was young, far away from home, we had just moved into the neighborhood, I didn't know anyone.   My husband had to go "in the field" in other words, he went to play war for 3 days. During these 3 days, short of a death in the family he could not be contacted. When he left, Jason had a cold.  Later that day, Jason got really sick and I took him into the hospital. He had pneumonia.  For 3 days, I rocked, gave medicine, held, rocked, gave medicine, he was so sick, we did not sleep, he couldn't take a bottle, (His nose was all stuffed up and he was coughing so bad).  I even held him while going to the bathroom! If you put him down, he coughed more and had problems breathing. (Now I know he should have been in the hospital!). All that kept me going was knowing that my husband would be home soon and then I could get some sleep.  I was ok with the baby, I knew I was the only one that could take care of him.  I kept counting the hours till my husband came home.
The morning he was due home, I had not slept in 3 days, other than a catnap in the rocking chair .  The medicine was starting to take effect and Jason was breathing better and his cough was starting to sound different.  He fell asleep just as my husband was pulling into the drive way.  I laid him on the couch and opened the door for my husband. My wonderful husband that had NO idea how sick Jason was, walked in the door, put his gear down, kissed me on the cheek and said "I'm tired, I'm going to bed, wake me up in a couple of hours" and walked into the bedroom!
The next part of this story is what I have vivid memories of, but understand it did not happen I can not explain why I have such vivid memories of something that did not happen, but this is what I remember.
I remember watching my husband walk into the other room, I remember Jason crying, I remember picking him up and throwing him into the wall. I remember the blood on the wall, I remember Jason falling back down on the couch.  I can see this as well as I can see my hands typing this. 
What my husband told me I really did was follow him into the bedroom and in a very calm quiet voice I told him that Jason had been sick, and if he didn't get up and take care of Jason, I was going to hurt my child.  My husband said I explained Jason's medication schedule, how I was trying to get food or liquids into him, not to give him milk, my husband said he put me into the shower and then into bed. I slept 24 hours.  I do not remember any of this.  I remember throwing my son into the wall. I remember waking up thinking I had killed my son.
This memory scared me to death. It terrified me to think I was capable of doing something like this.  I vowed I would never let myself get frustrated with my child again. I started time out years before anyone else.  I learned I needed about 15 minutes.  I learned to put Jason in his crib, or in his room, and walk away, take a quick shower, go out on the front porch,   It was kind of funny really, cause by the time he was 2, all I had to do was raise my voice a bit and he would point at me and say "time".  Time out was always for ME, it was never because he was bad, only because I was getting angry or frustrated. I used to tell him, "I need time, Jas" and he would go play in his room for a bit. 

I ended up having 2 more children and used "time" for me with each child.  Trust me, my oldest daughter gave me more "time outs" than you could every imagine!

It took me years to realize that I did not hurt my child. That by the grace of God, I had not walked toward my child, but into the other room. It took me years to realize that there was something inside of me that kept me from hurting my child.  To this day, I have no explanation for this memory, it is still so vivid, so real, but so false.  

This is why I can understand that moment of frustration, babying screaming, you're mad cause you are left alone, money issues, scared cause you can't figure out what's wrong, and you lose it.  And the child is hurt.  I understand it, because in my mind I came that close. 

Every time I hear stories like this it brings back this "memory".  Will prison help her? Probably not.  Is the sentence long enough? Honestly, I don't know. 

I wish we could teach all parents, all babysitters, anyone caring for children to walk away, lay the baby down in the crib, put the child in his room, some place they are safe and go outside, go into the bathroom and scream, take a quick shower  - get YOURSELF under control. You can not control a baby, you can not  MAKE  a baby stop crying,  The baby doesn't understand your words any more that you would understand someone screaming at you in Chinese!

I guess I just needed to get this out of my system this morning,  thanks for listening.