We met BM at 10 AM Saturday to drop Fuzzy off. I cried most of the way there, but pulled it together before anyone but Rob would see me. I got Fuzzy out of his car seat, and he was asleep so when BM grabbed him from me he opened his eyes for a second and went back to sleep. I got back in the car while Rob gave her a small diaper bag that we packed for him. BM says, "You didn't have to do that." Like we were giving her a damn gift or something. Idiot! BM showed up riding with an older lady and at least they had a car seat in the car for him. Fuzzy woke up as Rob was going back to the car and gave him a very confused look when he realized that BM was holding him and Daddy was leaving. It broke my heart to let him go because I knew he was not going to be taken care of the way he should be.
All day Saturday I rearranged furniture and cleaned and cleaned. I had to keep busy to keep my mind from dwelling on him and wondering what was going on with him. Saturday night BM called me to ask if she could keep him until 1PM so she could take him to church. Trying to be nice, I agreed. We got to the meeting point at 1 and my phone rings. It's BM saying that she's going to be late because she doesn't have a ride and Fuzzy is asleep. WTF does Fuzzy being asleep have to do with anything, I don't know. I hung up on her and called the social worker. I left SW a message about what was going on. We decided to head home since it was 102 degrees and we're sitting in a parking lot with a 2 year old that's hungry and it's at least a 40 minute drive from BM's home to where we were. We stopped to get lunch and headed home. By the time we got home BM called and said she was on her way. So we headed back. I know we could have waited at the house a while and then left, but we were too anxious to get Fuzzy back.
BM shows up about an hour after she called in a small white pick-up truck driven by some little wrinkled white man. Whoever the hell he was no one knows? Something told me to have my camera ready when they pulled up. And I was right BM was holding the car seat in her lap with Fuzzy in it unbuckled. If they had been hit or had to make a sudden stop there was nothing there to prevent him from flying through the front windshield! I snapped a picture and jumped out of the car. Fuzzy saw me and started smiling. He practically jumped from her arms to me. His pants were soaking wet. A few words were exchanged but she didn't mention anything about how his visit went. I walked to the car and immediatly took his pants off and changed him. His diaper had started to fall apart it was so heavy with urine. Fuzzy looked like hell. He had these huge bags under his dark, sunken eyes, but he just kept smiling at us. You could tell he was so happy to be home. His hair reeked of smoke. And this is after she was been told time and time again that he has severe allergies and asthma so he doesn't need to be around smoke!
When we got home I checked his bottom to find it raw and red. I took a picture of this too for his social worker. I weighed the diaper to find that it weighed almost a pound! A dry diaper is only a little over an ounce and this diaper weighed a pound! His social worker said to just pack him a small diaper bag because BM should have everything he needed. So we sent him with 2 diapers, a premade bottle, an almost brand new can of formula, his medicines, butt paste, and a bath tub book. That bitch kept the formula and the book and his clothes he had on that day. Good thing I dressed him in play clothes and cheap shoes because I would have beat her ass if she kept some Nik*e or Str*iderite shoes! I'm not even sure if she fed him the formula we sent because the SW said that she saw a big can of formula there when she visited the home the day before the visit. Also from 3PM to 8PM, Fuzzy had 4 seperate poopy diapers that were nasty. This child normally has 1 or 2 a day, not 4 in a 5 hour span.
I spent several hours sitting on the couch holding him so he could sleep. At one point he let out a horrible scream and it took me a a few minutes to get him to stop and look at me. As soon as he saw me he said mama and fell back asleep. Even if Rob was holding him he had to keep me within eyesight or he would cry. He's normally not like that. He's always to independent unless he's sick. I wish I knew what the hell she did to him. I don't know how anyone can think putting him through this stress is good for him. I know it won't get any better because BM is stubborn and doesn't listen to anyone. She wants to do things her way and it doesn't matter that it's hurting Fuzzy.