So this is what a panic attack feels like

Today had been lovely...really so much better and emotionally less draining than I had imagined it would be.  That is, until this evening. Molly and Justin and I went out to breakfast, had family nap time in the afternoon, and walked to Pop-pop's for a visit.  Throughout the day I had been copying and pasting all of your wonderful, thoughtful prayers, comments, and encouragements onto a word document and making all of them colorful and happy :o) I was so looking forward to this evening when I could look through all of them at one time. Then I realized we didn't have any computer paper so it was off to BJ's for a quick family outing.

I don't think I'll EVER go to BJ's again.  EVER.

Shortness of breath.
Sweaty palms.
Tingly hands and feet.
Absolutely no ability to function rationally.
And everything around me was spinning.

I had walked into BJ's and put Molly in a cart.  Justin went to look at the coupon kiosk.  I was in the process of strapping her in when I realized the cart in front of her was stuck to the cart she was sitting in.  I was pulling, pushing, and pulling again, getting so frustrated that Justin didn't seem to notice how much I was struggling and come over to help us.  Then I looked back and saw him. His face was sheet-white.  Coming towards me to leave the store was Brenda (Josiah's great aunt.)  She was pushing a cart next to her her daughter and grandchildren.  David was sitting in the cart and right next to him was Josiah.

The aunt passed me without looking at me and without any inflection or eye contact said, "How you doing?"  I think I managed a, "Good...how are you?" but I'm not even sure that's what I said.  With every fiber in her being besides her words, I could tell she hated us and wanted nothing to do with us.  She was going as fast as she could to try to get away.  I wished I had the same option of mobility at the time.

I was stuck.  I couldn't get Molly's cart to budge.  Finally Justin came over, unstrapped Molly and whisked us away with a quick, "Let's go."

I looked back.  I never saw his face.  Josiah was looking away the entire time.  I ducked behind an isle and looked again.  He was still looking away.  It took everything in me not to walk over to him, give a kiss on his chubby cheek and wish him a happy birthday.  I could tell his family certainly wasn't going to condone the behavior.

I went down another isle and by the time I looked again, he was gone.

Then I couldn't even remember why we had come to the store in the first place.  Justin, thankfully, was on a mission to get us out of there as soon as possible and had no problem recalling the mental checklist of all 5 items.  Toothpaste, milk, diapers, computer paper, and trail mix.  None of them seemed like necessities anymore.  I just wanted to be home and cry.

By the time we had gotten to the parking lot and the numbness washed away, all I could feel was anger. Josiah's hair hadn't been cut and he was wearing a T shirt and nothing else in 55 degree windy weather.  It was too cold for him to be dressed like that.  He SHOULD be wearing an adorable birthday outfit and be covered in frosting and cake from head to toe.  Or maybe his hair should be combed, or atleast look washed.  He SHOULD be with his grandfather...you know the one who fought with us and the state to get custody?  What was he doing with HIS AUNT!?!?!  If I had fought as long and hard as the grandfather did, I would want to spend the boy's BIRTHDAY WITH HIM!!!!!!!  I am upset.

I knew a day would come when I would encounter him by chance.  But tonight, of all nights?  When I am raw and exposed and barely functioning as it is?  God knew how much I wanted to spend this day with him and celebrate with him.  Instead I am left with the mental image of him not being as well cared for as I would have cared for him.  I think I prefer the image of him I imagined in my blissful ignorance.

I am thankful that so many have gone before us and bathed us in prayer for today.  I don't know what I had done if I had relied on my own strength to get me through that terrible episode.  I still don't know how to process and handle myself.  I'm just sad.  I miss him.  I hate his family.  And I know it's not right to hate people, but I can't stand what they've put Josiah and my family through.  I sent Josiah's photobook to him yesterday.  Judging from the way the family feels about us, I can only imagine they burnt it and spit on the ashes.  Why did I waste my time making something so precious that isn't going to be appreciated?

I feel empty and beaten up.  I am thankful I have so many wonderful encouragements to go through tonight.  (12 pages of them!!!) God knew I need that.  Thank you for letting Him use you.

And as I'm sitting here writing this, I'm looking outside my window and rising in the sky, is the moon.  It's a "super moon," they call it.  It's a night where the moon hasn't looked this large in 20 years.  I feel like the moon is this little thread that connects Josiah's heart and mine.

Thanks for that, God.  You knew I needed to feel close to him in some way.  

Goodnight, moon and Happy Birthday, Josiah.