April 14, 2021 ~ Authors Note: Due to the nature of how Baby P came to us, some details need to be withheld for the protection of our angels on earth. The purpose of documenting this journey is to shed some light on our first hand account of dealing with the "system". We found this whole process very difficult, at times feeling nearly impossible.
May 12, 2020 ~ It was a regular Tuesday morning. Due to COVID, I was now working from home. A message popped up on Messenger. Out of habit, I grab my cell phone. After I read the first couple of lines, I immediately put my cell phone down and instead transfer to my laptop so I could read the thread better. I know right away that this time is different. I am shaking and I have to talk myself into remaining calm. This person is telling me my beautiful grand-baby's life is in danger. My heart is beating so fast. My brain is running a million miles a minute. I forget everything I was doing except what I am reading and determining how fast I can get to my granddaughter. The caller is asking if I can meet a 3rd party so they can bring me my granddaughter, P. I call P's auntie, my daughter, Taylor and share what I have just heard. Taylor says absolutely, she can go with me. I say yes to the caller. I ask the standard questions all of which I have done several times before when I have been told that I need to pick up P - Does she have clothes, jacket, blankey? The caller tells me P has the clothes she is wearing, 2 diapers and a sippy cup. I tell the caller I will meet her in10 minutes at Shopko. I run to P's room and grab a blankey, diapers, jacket and wipes. On my way to Shopko, I call an ex-cop friend of mine. I give her a brief run-down on what is going on. My friend gives me a list of things to do . . .
1.Meet at a public place
2. Take someone with me.
3.Record the conversation if at all possible.
Taylor and I show up at Shopko about the same time. We both take our phones out and put it on video. We are ready to get our Baby P in a safe place and we will do whatever it takes. . .
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