Brook Fisk

I cried most of the way back.

I missed my baby so

I went down to DC thinking that I was making a parenting plan and I came back missing my baby with business cards for investigators and victim's assistance phone numbers in my luggage, doubting who I knew for the last five years.

My whole world had changed.

You know, blaming yourself.

I wish I had never driven down there.

I shouldn't have done that.

I should have known better.

I've worked through that.

I don't still blame myself.

But at that time I did.

I kept thinking that.

How stupid was I to drive down there?

Not only was I dealing with my own emotions, but I had to tell my kids that I wasn't pregnant anymore and they weren't getting a baby brother.

And not only were they not getting a baby brother, but their baby brother was murdered.

And not only was he murdered, he was murdered by somebody that they knew and trusted.

And I have to help them through that while I'm trying to manage my own emotional fallout from this and also figure out what to do about this criminal case.

I can hardly function to get dinner on the table.

I really went through this period of wondering if I ever knew him at all.

And did I ever see him again?