the day my 3 year old suffocated my 2 week old baby

exactly a year ago today my toddler accidentally suffocated my 2 week old baby. it has taken me exactly a year to finally tell that story. here goes nothing…

(morning of the incident)

york was 17 days old. i was finally getting the swing of things, things with 4 kids. trevan had gone back to work, my mom had stopped coming up daily to help with dinner and household chores, the meals from neighbors had stopped, and the rush of visitors that come with a newborn had dwindled. my postpartum psychosis was under control and my c-section was allowing me to drive again. i was doing it! i was being mom of 4.

it was a wednesday. my mom had asked me to come down to visit her at work (about 20 min away) and show off her newest grand baby to her co-workers and to go to lunch. it was my first real outing since york had been born. i loaded up the baby and ezra and then proceeded to my sister brooke's house to pick up her and her daughter billie so they could join us. we had a 2 hour window to be there and back in time to get my older kids from elementary. 

york was received with ooh's and aah's from everyone we saw. there truly is nothing more fascinating and adorable than a 2 week old baby. we ate lunch, kissed my mom goodbye and loaded up the kids to go. i remember looking at the clock and knowing that it was almost time to feed york again, but i thought i could time it all perfectly we could drop brooke, pick up my kids, and be home in time to feed him and put us BOTH down for a nap. 

trevan called me shortly after i dropped brooke back off and told me he was on his way home from work and asked if he i needed him to get the kids from school.  i, feeling extra confident, told him no and that we would meet him at home shortly. after i hung up with trevan my bff karlin called to check in on me (this is all hands free via my car, so stop judging).  we were laughing and sharing stories of life with newborns. i remember telling karlin as i pulled up to the elementary "this is so much easier than i thought it would be. i am so happy. the song "walking on sunshine" is playing on repeat in my mind!".  we continued to talk while i waited along side the school for the bell to ring. a neighbor stopped by my unrolled window and peeked in to see york and say hi to ez. nothing out of the ordinary. at this point york started to cry…

meanwhile, because we had taken brooke and billie with us we had switched up the car seat situation in my van. we moved ezra out of his 5-point harness seat and into high back booster that he could easily buckle himself in and out of and we had billie sit in his seat. ezra was plenty safe in the booster seat so when we dropped billie off, i didn't switch him back. when we got the school ezra unbuckled and started wandering around the van while we waited. york was fully awake at this point and was really hungry. you know that newborn hungry cry, the kind where they are pretty sure they've never eaten before and they most definitely will never eat again? well that was the cry that was going on behind my seat. i can't remember whether i told ezra to give york his binki or not… either way the crying stopped. it wasn't odd to me that york had stopped crying because at that point if a binki got within 2 inches of his mouth he would suck it in. i figured he had found his binki.

the bell rang and i was wrapping up my conversation with karlin when ez popped his head between seats and said very clearly "york is done. york is done. i go like this (covers his mouth) and now him is all done.". MY HEART SANK. i hung up on karlin and threw open my door and waited as york's door slowly opened. first off, his car seat canopy was closed and when i had buckled york in i had left it open. all i could see was his tiny little foot poking out... i knew by looking at his tiny lifeless foot that there was something wrong. i threw open his car seat canopy and there he was…. his face was blue and there was foam coming out of his mouth. he had been suffocated, suffocated by his sweet and innocent older brother who was just trying to help. i screamed and pulled him out of his seat. i was in complete shock. i laid him over my shoulder and patted his back fiercely. after a few seconds i heard him moan. i started screaming for my kids, i remember yelling to my neighbor who had stopped by the van just minutes before that something was wrong with york. somehow my kids made it to the van. i cradled my lifeless, moaning baby into my arms and sped home. i remember running in to the house and screaming for trevan, my 3 older kids trailing behind me in shock and tears.

i held york in my arms and sobbed and i thought that maybe if i just nursed him he would come back to life. trevan was yelling at me to call a doctor or to call 9-1-1, to just do something. i kept thinking if i could just get him to nurse he would be okay. as i tried to awaken him and feed him it became clear that we needed more than just breastfeeding to make him better. we made a quick decision to load the kids up and just drive to the closest primary children's hospital; which from where we live was the riverton location.  i knew an ambulance would take too much time to get to our house and that we needed to go to a  hospital that was equipped to deal with infants.  i called them on our way our there and let them know we were coming. i called my sister brooke once again and just said "york was suffocated and we are headed to the ER. i'm dropping off my kids".

my kids were crying in the car, ezra kept crying "i killed my baby",  jude said over and over "please don't die yorkie!", and greta just sobbed. i sat in the back and just held york and wept and plead with with him and with the lord to let him stay with us. trevan was so upset, he couldn't even talk but kept yelling back to me to make york cry. york didn't cry. he struggled to breathe and just would moan every couple of minutes. we stopped at brooke's house to drop the kids just long enough for the van door to open and close. the next 10 minutes were the longest minutes of our lives. we seemed to hit every red light possible and anyone who lives in SL county know traveling east to west in the middle of the day is an absolute nightmare.

we pulled into the ER parking lot and i ran in carrying york, still lifeless in my arms. the nurses and doctors rushed us back and began working on york immediately. they got vitals, undressed him and assessed him. about 5 minutes after we got there york started screaming. words cannot express this scream. i have heard my fair share of newborn screams but this was not like any i had ever heard. he oxygen levels were low, in the 70's, and the doctors did not like what they were seeing and admitted him at once. no one knew what was wrong with york. no one knew what "really" happened to york. and no one knew how to make him better.

at this point, my mom showed up and then trevan's parents shortly there after. they watched as doctors scrambled to get IV's and feeding tubes in. they took blood and ran tests, all the while, york just screamed. trevan and his dad administered a priesthood blessing to york.

i remember just sitting there with my thoughts racing…

york has to get better! 

this was not happening!

my poor ezzie!

please, make york's screaming stop.

this was not happening!

what happened in the back of the van between york and ez in that 5 minute or less time frame?!

york cannot die!

ezzie did not mean to hurt him!

this is not going to be our story….

please!

there was a shift change and the new staff came in to access york. they were definitely keeping him and we would be there until they knew what was going on. there were a bunch of different theories going around, broken bones, asphyxiation, aspiration, pneumonia, etc. but no one knew. the onsite child protective services came, lots of questions were asked. then x-ray's were ordered. all the while, york still screamed. he was in pain and he could not breathe. he was hungry but could not breastfeed.  at this point he had not eaten in over 6 hours, which is too long for a 2 week old baby. i pumped and then we put my breast milk into york's feeding tube. his hunger needs were met and the crying subsided for a bit but then the screaming and moaning were back with full force.

it was decided that i stay with york while trevan went home and got my stuff for me. remember… i was only 2 weeks out from a c-section and still pretty tender and still a zombie that a mother to a newborn is. trevan's parents took our kids and comforted as well as they could in this situation. we are so lucky to always have grandparents there to pick up our slack. i could not stop thinking about my poor ezra, i just wanted to hold him. he did not mean to hurt york and he needed to know i knew that.

that first night in the hospital was horrific. the screaming would not stop. york could not be consoled or comforted. he was up all night without rest. holding york only made it worse but he hated being alone too. he had to be in pain…. but why? the doctors said it was nearly impossible for him to have a broken bone with the type of force a 3 year old could inflict. there was likely no need for an MRI, because brain damage from a lack of oxygen would take longer than the 3-5 minutes he was without it. what we had on our hands was an ALTE (apparent life-threatening event) and only time would tell what would happen with york.

the next morning trevan was there at dawn. a miracle nurse had come in at 5 am and somehow gotten york to stop screaming. i thought he was getting better. later in the morning, a new doctor came in had some test results. there was no infection in his blood, no broken bones but there was fluid in his lungs and wounds in the back of york's throat. the theory is that ezra had put something (fingers, binki) into the back of his mouth and wounded it and then york aspirated on the blood from that and then too was suffocated. they felt confident with treating york for aspiration pneumonia and that we would be out of the hospital later that day. 

we had an outpouring of love and support from friends and family everywhere. i have never felt so loved. my sweet cousin cheyenne happened to work on the floor of the hospital we were on and we had better care because of her. our inboxes, voicemails, texts, facebook walls and instagrams were bombarded with support.

we were optimistic with what the doctors had told us and even started to joked about the craziness. well, we spoke to soon because york just got worse from there. he oxygen levels were dropping and he was needing more and more oxygen. the respiratory team started treatment on york of tapping on his back to try to break up the mucous and fluid in his lungs. york was not good this day, he seemed back to that lifeless boy i held the day before. the doctors were stumped… he was suppose to be better.

the thing about ALTE's is that they are unpredictable. no one could tell us how this would end, how he would be, or what to expect. the rest of the stay at the hospital is a blur. there were more tests, more tapping, more crying, more tube feeding. there was constant progress and regression. i never left york's side. we stayed at the hospital for 3 days.

 i don't know what happened with my other kids during that time. i know they were taken care of and loved. i could not wait to get home and show them everything was okay. late friday afternoon, york made a turn for the better. he started to breastfeed again and needed less and less of oxygen. the doctors told us if he continued to improve and gain weight we could go home the next day. 

we left the hospital around noon the next day, which was saturday. york would make a full recovery. it took us a good month to recover at home, all of us. trevan and i were dead emotionally and physically exhausted. i beat myself up for weeks wondering what i could have done differently, how this was all my fault. i think that'r normal behavior but it still killed me. the trauma to york put him back to like a newborn day . he had to get reacclimated to life… eating, sleeping, waking, being alive.

(after being released from the hospital)

  for the second time in my life, i was granted a miracle. we escaped a horrific reality, by the skin of our teeth. it still scares me to death to think of what that life would be had that been our story… an accidental dead child by the hand of a toddler brother. i shutter to think of the damage that would do to ezra alone, not just to our family. believe me when i say, i do not EVER take york's full recovery for granted (which is maybe why i'll baby him forever).  i still don't think i even process this experience fully. how do you get over something like this? you don't. and today was a cold reminder of when i was picking up our kids from school on another beautiful september afternoon exactly a year ago.

….

:: i share this story for my history ::

a prince is born: york's birth story

the official due date for baby boy gregory was september 19th 2014... that was a date hardly anyone knew but me because the date that i decided baby boy should be born was september 12th 2014. for 9 long months, i knew that it would all worth it, to meet that sweet baby on friday, september 12th at 7:00 am. you see, with scheduled c-sections you can do that... chose the day of delivery. i like having c-sections for that reason alone. i am a control freak. september 12th, my due date.

so imagine my surprise when on 5:30am saturday morning, september 6th at 38 weeks pregnant, i felt a little pop and thought i maybe wet my pants. i actually didn't believe it. i mean, who's water actually breaks? i sat back down on my bed in disbelief but sat right back up because my water really had broken, the bed was soaked, and it was time to go the hospital.

i texted trevan (who was working some overtime) and said "time to come home.". i called the rest of our people (yaya, nannie, brooke) and patiently waited, i didn't even wake the kids. trevan came, at trevan speed, 30 minutes later. in fact, brooke got to me before trevan did. he was taking 4 weeks off with paternity leave and wasn't expecting it for at least another week, so he had some things to finish up. yaya got to our home a few minutes later to take my kids and the rest of us were off to meet my baby.

labor was beginning and i started to feel the pain of contractions on the drive to the hospital. the drive there was fast and peaceful. the morning sun was just coming over the mountains and there was literally a rainbow... and then a lighting bolt to the west. trevan i laughed, and hoped this was not a sign of things to come. we threw names and middle names back and forth (heath vs york and michael vs. williams) and decided we would have to meet him first. we pulled up to labor and delivery and i waddled my very pregnant butt into the hospital to check in and left trevan to park the van and bring in my gear. i passed the night nurses leaving their shifts and they nodded and smiled. i can only imagine what i looked like.... bath towel around my waist under my nightgown, garments hanging out, and swollen feet stuffed into flip flops.

they front desk checked me in and walked me back to my delivery room. i 'technically' had to be monitored to make sure i was really in labor and that my water had truly broken. it took the nurses one glance at the soaked towel from my bottom and everyone knew it was show time.

the contractions were coming on strong and this was the first time i had ever truly been in labor. it was a strange but calming feeling. it was nice to know that my body did actually know what to do, even if it wasn't suppose or going to actually deliver a baby. i have always wondered what labor would be like. i am grateful to have experienced a fraction of it once in my childbearing years.

i was so ready to be done being pregnant, even if i wasn't ready to have a baby (are you ever ready for that?!). being 9 months pregnant in august is no walk in the park. my body retained water like it never had before and i looked and felt like i might explode. my legs and feet were the worst, little sausages for toes and lovely kankles that only a mother could love. i could not wear any shoes but flip flops for the entire month. this pregnancy included, plantars fasciitis, carpal tunnel, heartburn, and restless leg syndrome and i was ready to rid my body of all of the above. i'm not one of those pregnant people that wear it well. however, looking back and having this in all likelihood be my last pregnancy, i miss being there.... kankles and all. pregnancy is a miracle.

my sweet mom was in idaho on september 6th with my little sister paige and her week old baby alba. my mom had planned on coming home the next day, working a few days, and then being at my induction due date september 12th. plans are meant to be broken, and this was one of them. i tried to be brave but i really wanted my mom. luckily, my dad steps up when he needs to and was there cheer me up. i am his favorite daughter after all, and was birthing him his 20th grandchild and 10th grandson.

we had to wait and wait and wait for the operating room to be ready. luckily. it's the kind of waiting that i love the most, waiting for a baby. unfortunately, my OBGYN had other obligations (ahem... a utah football game 6 hours later) and couldn't make it to the birth. i was really upset about it, like i said, i'm a control freak and this whole thing was out of my control. no september 12th, no mom, no doctor, no new pedicure, no photographer in the OR (ie. brooke)... i was really trying to be calm but things were not going as planned. trevan's mom came and her presence made me much more calm. the 5 of us (brooke, yaya, my dad, trevan and i) were ready to get this show on the road.

they were finally ready to take me to meet my son and were wheeling me out when my mom called again. just hearing her voice brought me to tears, i was scared and wanted my mom. having a baby is a whole whirlwind of emotions. i really just wanted a healthy baby.... and my mom.

trevan is the best person in the world at calming me. sometimes i forget how capable he is of that, but in these situations his calming voice of reassurance puts all my worries aside. he's held my hand and patted my head for 12 years and gets better every year. this was my most painful c-section to date. i'm not sure what happened or went wrong but i straight up thought i was dying on the operating table. i couldn't talk and cried out in pain. i could not breathe. i guess my epidural/spinal wasn't placed correctly so i was feeling the pain but in the wrong places. it was really bad. i've already begun to block it from my memory.

at 10:16AM on september 6th 2014, york michael gregory made his entrance into our world. 

another really, really long cord wrapped around one of my babies necks. 

and he didn't make a peep.

i was freaking out because he wasn't crying but the nurses assured me he was fine, the little guy wasn't quite awake.

york was our HEALTHY 7.7 lbs 20 inch baby boy.

he was perfect.

let me interject here and say: ladies, nothing more attractive than watching your man with your love child.

york was so healthy in fact, that they didn't make him leave my side.... ever. this was a first and i relished in all of his newborn goodness. i felt like i won the lottery. 

i did win and york was the grand prize.

as i looked upon that fresh and perfect face i was reminded so much of the 1st time i did this, of my sweet baby jude.

never ever in the history of my child births have i been able to have skin to skin time after delivery. omg, to feel that baby breathing on you, that same baby that has been growing and moving inside you for the past 9 months, to smell them, to feel them on your skin.... words fail me.

a father and his 3rd son. trevan is the luckiest.

york had all 10 fingers and all 10 toes, and they were perfect. we knew york was fully cooked by his nail length alone. nothing better than a full set of newborn acrylics.

we stayed in the hospital for 4 more days. its funny, some people can not wait to get out of the hospital after they deliver. i do not fall into that category. HOTEL IMC!!!! i love the constant stream of visitors, the alone time with the baby and trevan, friendly nurses at your beck and call, and knowing that you and the baby are safe. i'd have babies every day if i could.

our first visitors had to be york's big brothers and sister. they too were surprised by their baby brother's early arrival. we talked a lot about what we would name him and greta and ez had a long list of ideas. ez, the darling crazy, went back and forth between baby rahzar, fish face, and rat king and would cry anytime we didn't agree. greta favored tim, charles, and jake. sadly, neither of them won on their choices but once they met york, they were fine with his name. he has been 'yorkie' ever since. i love my babies 1, 2, 3, 4... little ducks in a row.

the best surprise of all was that my mom was there with me shortly after york was born. paige and nate were kind enough to let her use their sky miles and fly her home that day. i was beyond thrilled, i was getting to share this day with my mom. 

 again... your husband and your newborn.
i die.

can you smell his newness?

after our 4 day stay those big jerks took out my staples, gave me a DTaP booster shot, and sent us walking. york and i felt the same way about heading home.

every child deserves a birth story and that is york's.

and who knows maybe this is the return of me blogging.
;)

being a mother of a victim sexual abuse: my mom's story

//  i promise this blog is not going to be 24/7 depressing but today it is again. i asked my mom to write her perspective of my abuse. i no longer relate to the child kennan in my abuse but more so to the mom kennan. i think mostly on how i can protect my kids. i cannot imagine this happening to one of my own babies, i don't know how i could live with it. really, as a parent, you would 100 times over, take any pain of your children onto yourself.  this is the first time i have ever heard my mom's point of view. i cried good and long as i read through her version of my story. i cried as child kennan and i cried as mom kennan, both of us are proud to be my mom's daughter, she helped me survive.  //

When I think about what happened to my daughter at such a tender young age I feel such incredible guilt.  Why didn’t I protect her?  Why didn’t I sense what was happening?  Why didn’t I know that this man was a predator?  What kind of a Mom wouldn’t know?  If I start at the beginning, I realize that I did know something was wrong, but I was too naïve and maybe a little too overwhelmed to understand what was happening.  

When Kennan was in 1^st grade, she started to complain about her stomach hurting.  Her older sister used to do the same thing when she was about that age and we were changing schools so I wrote it off as just difficulty adjusting to all day school.  I would address it and even bring her home, but always encouraged her to just tough it out.  I remember coming into the family room one evening and seeing this little girl curled up in a ball quietly sobbing and when I asked what was wrong she said her stomach hurt.  I had her in to the pediatrician the next morning.  

After an exam, an interview (where the Dr. specifically asked, has anyone touched you in your private parts? To which she responded NO!) and a whole series of tests including blood work and an upper GI series….it was concluded that her stomach was in fact in spasms but there was no physical reason.  We decided to watch her for additional symptoms and see how it went.  In time, she seemed to improve.  During this time, Kennan was seeing the speech therapist at school for some problems with her “r’s”.  I later found out that Tom Williams was taking her out of class (supposedly for the Speech Therapist). 

In retrospect, she did however start to show some unusual interest in men’s anatomy.  Weird stuff, like looking at men’s underwear in catalogues and taping hot dogs to her brother’s bedroom doors.  I wrote it off as just crazy Kennan….antics of a rowdy little girl. This is a little girl who would swear because she knew it was naughty so it wasn’t a big stretch to see her doing wild stuff just to get her big brother’s attention.  I was wrong….I should have clued in!  

In the following years at Barratt Elementary, Kennan struggled at school and at home.  She had trouble with friends, and seemed to be victimized by the “gang” mentality.  Her teachers saw it and tried to intervene where they could but she would repeatedly ask me to home school her.  This was a time when those who home schooled were just sort of an anomaly so I never really considered it.  I just kept telling her she would be fine.  Kennan hated being told what to do at home….especially by her siblings and she was a nightmare for them to tend. I recognize now that these behaviors were due to her trying desperately to always be in control of every situation.  She would go from happy and silly to enraged and angry in a moment’s time. It became impossible for me to deal with her and she responded much more positively to her Dad’s interventions.   I think on some unconscious level she was mad at me.  Unfortunately, her Dad was traveling a great deal during this time so he was not always there to take over.  

Kennan's struggles continued into Jr. High but she got a good group of girl friends that were loyal and kind and she did much better.  She seemed to be thriving in this social aspect of her life but still really struggled with school and authority.  Then came boys and boyfriends.  She confided in me that she kissed a boy and got physically sick.  In my warped mind I thought, “Great…I won’t have to worry about her getting into trouble with boys.”  I kind of made light of it and we even joked about it, but as time went on she started to unravel.  She became quiet, angry, frustrated, volatile and eventually came to me and said she needed help.  Her issues with intimacy continued. She was displaying self destructive behavior and contemplating suicide.  I had been through one child that struggled with depression and I took it seriously.  We were back into Dr. Glade the next morning and he recommended counseling.  We set up her first visit and thus began what has become a long, long road to understanding and remembering when and where the abuse took place. 

Her counselor knew immediately that she was a child sex abuse victim….she had all the symptoms.  Kennan had very few memories and the counselor said she might never fully remember.  Her mind would only allow her to remember what she could handle.  She offered to put Kennan under hypnosis but Kennan was scared to remember and was okay not to.  Just knowing there was a reason for what she was feeling was a relief and with some medication for the depression she was suffering, she seemed to do better.  Then one day as I was reading the paper, I came across an article naming Tom Williams and describing his arrest and confession to child sex abuse charges involving his nieces and nephews.  A light went off in my head….call it inspiration or just connecting the dots….but I felt certain this was the missing piece.  When Kennan got home from school, I showed her the article and waited to see her reaction.  I could tell immediately that I was right.  I was so heart-broken for her and I was sick that I hadn’t seen the writing on the wall.  From this vantage point I could see all the signs.  The tummy aches, the speech therapy, the odd interactions I had with Tom Williams at school.  I remembered being with the family at the Water Gardens and sitting down in front of Tom Williams and his nieces and nephews and how Kennan had to leave the theatre because she felt sick.  She began to have spotty memories of being in Tom’s office, and of other girls with her.  One girl in particular brought back some uncomfortable feelings and Kennan was pretty sure connecting with her would open the floodgate of memories.  I questioned Kennan about whether or not she wanted me to report him and pursue this with the police.  Her response was that her memories were too random and spotty and besides…he was in jail now.  What purpose would it serve?  I determined to follow her lead…this was her experience and her decision.  So we left it alone (Probably a big mistake) .  

Over the next several months Kennan tried to face her demons when she felt strong enough.  She was making progress when it came to intimate situations thanks to a very sweet, loving and patient young man.  She visited Barratt Elementary and walked the halls in hopes of finding some answers, but it mostly just made her physically ill.  She thought about looking up the girl that she had memories of being with Tom in his office but just wasn’t sure she was ready.  I think at this point she somewhat decided to put the whole issue to bed. It was what it was and she determined to move forward.  She sent her boyfriend on a mission and graduated from High School and tried to move in a direction that felt positive.  She met her future husband and had a great 2 year courtship, and was married.  Then the issue raised it’s ugly head again and there were serious issues in her marriage with intimacy.  Wisely, she and Trev sought counseling with pretty good results.  Through all this time, Kennan kept tabs on Tom Williams.  She saw interviews on the Utah State Prison website that he gave.  Somehow this was never far from her mind.  

Then she became pregnant and after Jude was born she crashed.  Post-partum depression took hold of her and she became incapacitated.  There was a trip to the hospital and more counseling.  Jude’s port wine stain birthmark threw her for a loop and it became her mission to do all she could for him.  There was more counseling and battles with insurance companies over services for her and for Jude, and a whole series of surgeries for Jude. In time things settled back down for her.  She called one day and said she thought she was ready to talk to the girl from grade school…would I see if I could find her Mom and her phone number.  I did and passed the information on to her.  Her Mom said she was living in Arizona, went by another name, had struggled with drug abuse and depression, been in an abusive relationship with a man, and had a strained relationship with her family. Kennan hesitated and said she would reach out to her when she felt strong enough.  That never happened.  Shortly after, we got word that she had died….found in her apartment dead after recovering from a broken leg, possible drug overdose. Poor girl probably had the same history as Kennan but not the kind of support she needed to work it through.  Another victim of Tom Williams. And a dead end for Kennan. 

Two more babies, two more horrible rounds of post-partum depression, more counseling.  Medication adjustments and adjustments and adjustments.  Little Greta with special needs.  Coordination of doctors and services for Greta, Laser surgeries for Jude…good times and meltdowns.  Constant checking of the registered sex offender list to make sure her kids are NO where near one.  Through it all a very patient husband stands by trying to understand what she is going through and supporting her.  And then one day, Kennan calls and says…He’s out!! Tom Williams is out of prison!  She is sick about it and so am I!  She finds out where he is living and has worries about him somehow finding her or getting to her kids.  

Then one day in Church, our old next door neighbor Ben Glade takes the stand and gives one of the bravest and most heartfelt talks I have ever heard about his struggles with same sex attraction and his realization that he was sexually abused by someone at his elementary and how he is working to overcome it all.  Bingo…same light goes off in my head.  After the meeting I walk up to Ben and tell him how sorry I am and that Kennan was also a victim of Tom Williams.  He looks shocked because he didn’t mention him by name but he starts to tear up and says he’s so sorry for Kennan as well.  Long story short, Ben is not the only victim in his family.  The Glades request a meeting with all of us and we sit down for the first time and realize that there are lots and lots of victims.  Ben has chosen to pursue this legally and Kennan is totally on board.  We brainstorm about who might have further information; former teachers, administrators, students.  All of them have spotty memories, some more than others but the sum total of all the memories are very condemning.  Kennan has been through an interview with the police and hopefully the case is moving forward.  There is no statute of limitations for child sex abuse.  I think Kennan finds some comfort in knowing she is doing something….that she is now in control and that perhaps together these victims can put Tom Williams away forever.  She says that putting it all in writing for the world to see has lifted a huge burden off her shoulders.  I suspect that she is no longer haunted by the secrecy of it all.  That was one of his biggest tools….secrecy.  

Let me share what we know about Tom Williams.  First and foremost, we are certain there are many, many victims.  Tom had free reign during his years at Barratt and other schools to choose his victims and groom them.  He wrote his Dissertation on Child Sex Abuse in Rural Communities…literally.  You can read it through BYU.  In it he outlines how middle children from large families are good victims because they are looking for attention.  He talks about the likelyhood of the abuse being reported is near to none. He built a trust with parents and staff in the school so no one thought he was capable of the horrible things he did.  He thinks he got away with this. He is not just a predator of young children, he is a sociopath who has done irreparable damage to lots and lots of kids.  In his own words, he should never be left alone with a child and yet he had free access to as many as he ever wanted.  He chose his victims young so they would NOT have clear memories because it is a fact that children rarely are able recall specific unhappy memories before age 8.  We know of one victim who was in 4^th grade but believe they are an exception.  Administration and staff allowed him free access to the kids and thought nothing of him hanging out on the playground during recesses and staying after hours. They never thought twice about letting him into classrooms and taking children out of them. Tom would get permission to work with kids by giving parents false information about evaluations he supposedly administered or worse yet, never reported working with some children. He is every bit as dangerous today as he was in 1987 and he is back on the streets.  

This isn’t the end of the story.  Kennan continues to work through all the damage that was done to her and her psyche when she was just a little girl.  Others are struggling to work through their own baggage that they carry from similar incidents.  But they are working it through and doing better all the time.  If you or someone you know may have been a victim of Tom Williams, we sincerely hope that you will come forward and have a voice in this.  For years Kennan has thought that she didn’t remember enough to make a difference.  The fact is that lots of others have similar memories and all of them together make for one very strong case. The American Fork Police will listen to your story and you will make a difference. It's not too late.

As a parent of a victim of child sex abuse, I have wondered what I could have done to prevent this from happening.  I have repeatedly begged Kennan for forgiveness for not being there to protect her.  She generously assures me that there was no way I could know. I don’t let myself off the hook that easily.  I am haunted by it.  I have spent lots of time on my knees and in the temple praying for Kennan’s innocence to be restored or for healing for what was taken.  In time I hope that prayer will be answered.  But, having said that….my beautiful daughter has survived.  She is stronger than even she realizes and she has an empathy and a depth of understanding that few people will ever know.  She has been dealt a really crappy hand on a lot of levels but she has risen to the challenge and excelled in advocating for her kids and others.  She is smart and talented and clever and one of a kind.  And Tom Williams will not have the last word on this! 

Several people have asked advice on how to protect their children from something like this.  I have only a few words of advice.  If you ever feel uncomfortable about someone’s interaction with your child….listen to that prompting!!  People’s children were spared because their radar went off and they refused to have their kids be alone with him.  Don’t worry about offending someone.  You are your child’s only advocate!!  In most places there are safe guards now that were not in place years ago….windows in all doors where children are working, rules about being alone with a child, background checks, etc.  Those rules are there for a reason.  Demand that they be followed. Ask about who interacts with your child at school and take the opportunity to get to know them so you can judge for yourself.  Be THAT parent … you know the one that insists on things.  And talk to your kids and assure them that they can tell you ANYTHING and they won’t be in trouble and you won’t get mad.  No secrets, ever! And believe them when they tell you something and let them know you will believe them.  If you note a change in them….quieter, don’t want to go to school, feeling sick, crying more than usual. …Note it, investigate and get to the bottom of it.  These are some of the things I wish I had done differently.  Would it have made a difference?   I don’t know but maybe.  

I’m so grateful I have a good relationship with Kennan and that we are working this through day by day.  Sometimes I look at her now and see that sweet little 1^st grader who didn’t understand or have the tools to communicate what was happening in her troubled life.  I realize she didn’t stand a chance against this evil man who had studied child psychology and became a master of manipulation and deceit.  It’s hard to imagine Satan himself being more evil.  I understand Kennan’s need to be in control all the time; from driving the car to choosing where we are going to dinner.  It all stems from not being in control at the most critical time.  I understand why she sometimes needs my undivided attention….it stems from a time when my attention was not on her when it should have been.  I feel her pain and her struggles and I bear the burden of knowing I failed her but I also know that we don’t get more than we can handle and she is learning to handle all that she has been given.  And she is doing it with grace and a smile and a very big heart.  I couldn’t love her more or be more proud of her.  And there is comfort in knowing that one day all things will be restored to her and that this evil, evil man will have to answer and pay for all that he took from these innocent children. 

//  beautifully written, by my mom, pamela williams  //

overwhelmed.

i cannot even write how much all of the comments, e-mails, and Facebook messages have meant to me.

i feel loved and telling my story was so liberating. i feel free.

thank you, thank you, thank you.

i'll be back shortly.

my name is kennan and i am a victim of sexual abuse.

i really did not want to start off my new blog with a downer post, but i have been trying to write this for over 6 months and i need to get it over with. 

you want real? here is real. 

 i don't remember much about my childhood at barratt elementary... most of the memories i do have are sad and foggy at best. no lifelong besties were made here, and the thought of even walking back into that school makes me physically ill. it was at barratt elementary that i learned how to read, write, and other basic learning needs. i also learned to things no child should ever learn. 

i did not excel in school, i got by. my teachers saw strength in me but i never lived up to their expectations. i did not have a lot of friends, and when i did the friendships never lasted long. i struggled with bullying, on both ends of the spectrum. i was tall, matured early and did not fit in (not to mention a little bit of a spoiled brat). i did whatever i could to not go to school. i came up with every excuse under the sun, some funny, some not so much. i hated elementary and i vividly remember my last day of 6th grade... it was the best day of my life.

it wasn't until i was 17 that i became fully aware of my sexual abuse. there were signs and symptoms all through out my childhood but as i grew older things became worse. in my early teenage years when boys came on to the scene, no one was more into having a boyfriend than me. my friends and i were boy crazy. in fact, some of the boys mom's called a meeting in 7th grade to protect their sons from these love struck girls. we started "pairing off" and phone calls were made, hands were held, and for some,kisses.  the trouble came for me as early has a hand hold. i remember feeling really nervous as soon as my beau set next to me, we played the hand inching closer game for 20 minutes and BOOM, my hand was held. right then and there, i was physically sick. i couldn't move, i felt like puking, and i just wanted to be home with my family. this continued on until i had my first kiss. let me just say, no one wanted a kiss more than me.

it was the summer between 8th and 9th grade and i found myself the perfect boy to lay my lips on, adam (real name). we had been "boyfriend/girlfriend" for a couple of weeks and our friends thought it was time for our lips to meet. we were alone in my friend nicole's basement, just listening to a little 'Better Than Ezra' and the time was right, adam leaned in and gave the kiss i had been waiting for. it was a typical first kiss, gooey, awkward, and short. but for me, it was more than that. it was a flashback, of something uncomfortable that i couldn't understand. as soon as it was over, i stood up, ran to the bathroom, and puked my guts out. i cried and was scared and knew i needed to pull myself together because all my girlfriends were going to want all the details and they wanted a smiling face. i waited a bit but eventually made it outside with everyone else and faked a smile. i never told anyone what it was really like. 

i kissed a handful of boys from then until i was 17, and every experience from then on out was the same. a kiss and then a mad dash to the toilet. eventually my friends found out about my little problem and it kind of became a joke. i was okay with it and figured it was heavenly fathers plan for keeping me worthy, also that maybe magically when mr. right came along i wouldn't puke anymore. that wouldn't be the case.

high school was a rough transition for me, my depression began to show its ugly little face and i had a lot of ups and downs. the love of my high school heart lead me down the road of disappointment and unrequited love, i was constantly reminded by him why i wasn't good enough for him. i kissed boys that didn't care about me and i didn't care about them. my friends were all busy with new found interests, loves, and freedom. i was trapped. i hated myself, my friends (who were my lifeblood), and i hated the fact that i never could be intimate with a boy without puking. i was an angry elf. shortly before my 17th birthday, after one too many bleach jobs on my hair, it began to fall out in clumps and it had to be shaved. talk about a self-esteem killer, no girl wants a shaved head at 17. that was the end the line for me. i wanted to die, i wanted to be done, and i knew i needed help. i walked into my moms room one evening and told her i needed help or i was going to hurt myself. being the amazing mom that she is, i was at my pediatricians, dr. glade's the next morning and 2 days later i was in a child psychologists office. i was finally going to get better and find out what really was going on.

it wasn't 30 minutes into my first therapy appointment that my psychologist realized that i was a victim of early childhood sexual abuse and was suffering from MDD (major depressive disorder) and anxiety. as soon she pointed out the possibility of sexual abuse, the memories came flooding back and i knew exactly when and where it happened, and who it was.

it all came down to barratt elementary, and dr. tom williams, the school psychologist.

i am not sure why i even met with tom.... tom, that is what everyone called him. i promise you that anyone that went to barratt in 1989 knows and remembers who "tom" is. {insert shivers down my spine} tom was well loved at the school, he loved the kids and the kids loved him. i remember feeling so special that he knew who i was. i remember his office, his desk, where he parked his car, how he smelled, the way his keys jingled in his pockets, his voice, his glasses, that he was a smoker, and the biggest thing i remember was a unwelcome familiarity. i remember feeling cold and alone. i remember just wanting to be back at home. i remember feeling guilty and feeling lucky at the same time. i remember him pulling me out of class with my friend emily stone (who has since passed). i remember him in kindergarten and first grade and i don't remember ever seeing or talking to him again until he left our school in 4th grade. i remember being sad he didn't tell me goodbye. i'm pretty sure my abuse was only in kindergarten and early first grade. i started getting sick a lot in 1st grade and my mom started prodding around as to why. i think that scared him off, but the damage was done.

that's it, that's all i could remember. i knew i didn't remember enough to prove anything, so i just stopped there. the child psychologist i was working with wanted to help me remember more, she wanted to put this creep in jail. she offered hypnosis, but i knew that my 6 year old mind had blocked this out for a reason (which BTW is very typical of sexual abuse victims prior to the age of 8). i didn't want to remember more. i just wanted to get better, and better i got.

i was put on anti-depressants and they literally saved my life. i went through about a year of counseling and became okay with who i was, and with being an abuse victim. at 17, i became the person you know now. i became me. shortly after my rebirth, i got a boyfriend who would change me. his name was matt (again, real name...) and he was wonderful. he worked and worked with me on being okay with who i was. matt was so patient with me while i worked through my "puking" issue. i learned coping mechanisms, like how i could initiate a kiss and i could be in control. together we walked the halls of barratt elementary so i could heal and let myself try to remember what went on there. i will always love him for helping me through this huge hurtle in my life, and for loving me in spite of my faults and abuse. like i said, this was the time that i became me, the real, happy me.

right before i graduated all of my memories and thoughts on tom became a reality. i remember distinctly coming home from school and my mom having this article on the kitchen counter. it was all true, he WAS a child molester. he was the bad guy that had ruined my childhood and taken away my innocence. it was both liberating and horrifying. my mom and i both cried... i should let her write sometime what its like being a parent of child who has been sexually abused. anyway, again, i didn't go forward to the police. i thought mine was probably an isolated incident at the school and my memories were still not enough (or at least i thought) to do anything and at least the bastard was going to jail.

the next few years in my life were wonderful... a breeze really. i was happy, i was loved, and i was free. i kept tabs on tom, i made sure he was still in jail, it made me feel safer but again, i kept this to myself and never came forward. one fall evening in 2002 my life changed when i met the man of my dreams, trevan. we fell madly in love and dated for 2 years, we grew up together, we traveled, and had the times of our lives. trevan knew about my abuse and intimacy issues but since i had worked through it earlier, he didn't have to "deal" with it. we got married in 2004 and again, the fingers of tom's abuse came to strangle me once again.

when i got married things went to shit. i went crazy and then to add fuel to the fire i got pregnant shortly their after. i could not cope and again was suicidal and inconsolable. there was something about the life change of marriage and then being pregnant with a son that threw me over the edge. i went through counselling once again with my favorite therapist to date, sally. she worked with me, and healed me and taught me how to settle myself down. sally worked with my on my "tom issues" and sally worked with my poor husband trevan on how to deal with his crazy wife. our sweet jude was born the fall of 2005 and he was just the medicine that we all needed.

fast forward to 2012... one sunday my mom was in sacrament meeting when my next door neighbor growing up, ben glade, got up to give a talk. in his talk he mentioned being sexually abused as a child by someone his family trusted and how it had affected his life. well, a light went off in my mom's head and she knew that ben's abuser was the same as mine. she talked to him after the meeting and sure enough, tom abused ben too. later on she called to tell me what she had found out. i was shocked. i could not wrap my mind around it and i didn't/couldn't deal with "tom issue" another time. it nearly kills me every time. so i waited...

i waited until i was ready, and that was this past summer. i finally contacted ben and told him my story and he told me his. there were far too many coincidences for it not to be true. we had both been abused and we knew that there was no way that were the only ones. we both had memories of other children being involved. we knew it was time to come forward. tom cannot get away with what he did to us, he thinks he did, and he didn't. we remember.

ben went to police with what he remembered and now there is an official investigation going on. you see, tom got out of prison early this year for "good behavior" and is now living among us. it literally scares me to death. there are so many children at risk, tom is a child psychologist and he knows his victims mind, he knows exactly what he is doing. i know there are more kids that went to barratt elementary that were abused, i am almost positive i know of a few personally. i am sure there are 100's of us victims. doesn't it make your blood boil?!?! i too have met with the police and given them my statement. luckily for us, there is no statute of limitations on this sort of stuff and hopefully, justice will be served. i am just happy know that finally i am doing something about this, and hopefully that more people will come forward so we can have a stronger case.

yet here i am writing this, acting strong, telling my truth and i am once again that innocent child, scared and afraid. i will never fully remember what happened to me in his office at that school. i am not sure if that is bad or good. i imagine the worse and hope that its not. what tom doesn't realize is that i am now a 30 year old woman, a wife, a mother of 3... i think he just thought we could forget. i wish i could. i wish that his damage to me didn't creep into almost every aspect of my life... marriage, parenting, trust, family, etc. every time i talk about this i throw myself into a downhill spiral, i am debilitated for a good day or two. i survive though... i have a wonderful support system, an adoring husband, and a testimony. i know someone who didn't have any of that and she didn't get to survive, or see justice served. 

my hope in writing this is that i can show that its okay to admit abuse and that i can heal myself with these words, they say the truth will set you free. i also hope that someone, somewhere reads this and has the strength to come forward about any abuse they may have experienced as child. even if they have spotty memos like me, things they aren't entirely sure of... come forward, it is never too late.

me and my siblings... my first day of kindergarten at barratt elementary

my name is kennan and i am victim of sexual abuse.

and i survive.

here some other links about tom if you are interested...

News Article

New Reel 

UPDATE:

i will be doing a follow up post to this to answer some questions i have received. questions regarding why i didn't tell my parents, warning signs, and how to protect your children.  hopefully, you will get my mom's perspective too. 

thank you, really, for your love and support. you will never know what it means to me.

xo