Living between two houses, both of which were constantly being shown by real estate agents, while being pregnant with someone else's child, on top of working full time, was becoming too much. As we approached the growth and anatomy ultrasound, my anxiety began to ratchet and concealing it became harder. I had no idea how I'd hide any of it from Dan once we lived together. The hormones and my guilty conscious were creating far more turmoil in my life than I'd anticipated, and my outlets were few and far between. The shower had become my favorite place to cry because it was one of the only times I was ever alone anymore. I'd wanted friends, someone to love me, and I was grateful for them, but I'd been on my own for years, and adjusting had suddenly become difficult. Dan already worried enough about my safety, the baby's, but if he knew the emotional mess I became every morning, he might have a heart attack. I'd stayed at Dan's house more often than not these days for convenience. He
"Lissa, if you two don't get on the road soon, it's going to be too late to leave."My parents owned a beach house on South Padre Island, and I was taking a long weekend to decompress. I didn't usually make the drive alone, but Matt had Drill, and I had to be back at school on Monday. I was exhausted-sleep deprived was a more accurate term-but everything pulled me in different directions, and I'd over-committed myself this semester. I wanted to make a good impression on the new Dean. I wasn't a tenured Professor, and there were always teachers vying for coveted spots on the University's payroll. I loved my job, not just the classes and the lectures, but the ensembles, the private lessons, and the rare gift of a brilliant musician. They were all good, but this year, I'd been impressed by two in particular, and they took up hours of my day. I allocated resources to them they couldn't afford...my time. Both were here on full music scholarships, so they fell to my tutelage by default, but
It was difficult to put the pieces in the order they'd happened, but the lineup of witnesses was called in the order they'd come to the scene, I assumed in an effort to keep the timeline concise for the jury. "Can you state your name and position for the court?" Jethro had his attention first."Drew Sullivan. Andrew Sullivan, sir. I'm a Fire Engineer at Station Twelve on Engine Twelve." He shifted uncomfortably in the hard, wooden chair next to the judge. Each time he spoke, he leaned into the microphone with hesitation, and his left hand automatically went to the back of his neck worrying the muscles I'm sure were tense."How long have you been with the station?" Each attorney either wanted to establish the credibility of the person on the stand or discredit it. These people were fortunate, though; no one was trying to tear apart their words. Jethro wanted to appeal to the depravity of the situation they'd faced that day. He played on their heart in hopes of weakening the jury.I
A paramedic came next. Each witness struggled to keep the emotion from their version of the events that day, especially the EMTs and the state troopers. I wanted to believe they knew it was an accident, but in the end, the only opinions that would matter were the jurors', who were not making eye contact with me. All but one kept their focus trained on the front of the courtroom. An older man, with hair that had long lost its color, and warm, brown eyes, met my gaze and tilted his head just slightly in my direction. He connected with me, in just a glance. There were no words or gestures other than that, but I had one juror on my side. I only needed one."Elizabeth Simmons. NREMT paramedic." Her voice was gentle, and I hoped she was a mother. My attorney had deposed all of the witnesses, but I didn't know much about them personally. In another life, this was a woman I would have wanted to befriend. She had come dressed professionally, her uniform clearly identifying who she was. Her
The state trooper didn't add much to the other accounts, but he did present what they believed were the timeline of events based on my statements and those who were there."Ms. Jackson said she pulled over around three that afternoon with about a quarter of a tank of gas. We have to assume it was less than that because by the time Mrs. Bartell and her husband found her and the baby, it wasn't quite four. The call came in to 9-1-1 at 3:58 pm. The car was out of gas, and it was one hundred and three degrees that afternoon. We can only speculate as to the exact temperature of the inside of the vehicle because the windows had already been broken by the time we arrived, and no one knows how long the car was off before witnesses found the victims.""What do you estimate the internal temperature might have been?" This question had already been answered, but I guess the more people who testified, the more weight it would carry with a jury."Objection, the witness would be speculating." Jeth
Matt's testimony had been the most damning. His tape had been played for the court since he was deployed, and his words haunted me. He was angry, and it came through in every word he recorded. Blame lay at my feet. I had known his would be bad but hoped it hadn't held as much weight since he wasn't here to deliver it himself. Seeing his face, witnessing his devastation, every member of the jury would have identified with his anger and likely marinated in it. But his hadn't been the testimony I'd hated hearing. I dreaded the details I knew were going to come from the prosecutor's expert medical witness. He wasn't here to talk about mine or Joshua's specific case-he came to educate the courtroom on the process of the human body, adult and child, failing due to heatstroke. I'd spent far too much time researching this over the last few months, and it was gory. "Heatstroke causes the body to shut down. It's a multi-system organ failure where respiratory, cardiovascular, and nervous system
The jury deliberated for three days. My attorney tried to assure me the longer they stayed behind closed doors, the better it was for me that a juror was holding out. I had a clean record, I was a contributing member of society, and my colleagues had spoken highly of me when they'd been called as character witnesses even if they had affirmed I'd taken on too much as a new mother. Jethro was convinced a jury wouldn't send someone my age with my history to jail. But I wondered if I deserved that kind of grace. I didn't want to spend my days behind bars, but I wouldn't blame them had they deemed it a necessary punishment. We waited to be called back to the courthouse, and each day that passed was harder than the previous. While Jethro was hoping for a hung jury, I knew I couldn't endure another trial. I wouldn't appeal whatever decision they made. I would accept the consequences and hope at some point I would be able to climb out of the manic state I'd found myself in.The call came at
We all piled into the exam room for the ultrasound. I hopped up on the table trying to exude excitement when I struggled with overwhelming grief. Each step of this process reminded me of when I had experienced it before. Matt and I had been overjoyed to see our baby on the screen, but now I was concerned about my reaction when I was bombarded by the past. The easiest thing for me to do was go through the motions focused only on what I was told to do. We were here for Annie and Brett. If I found personal healing through any of this, that would be fantastic, but the end goal was to give back, restore what I'd taken that hot summer day in Texas. With my back on the table, I lifted my shirt and tucked it under my bra. I glanced down at my swollen stomach, and a mournful grin took over my features. To the outsider, it probably appeared to be subtle happiness that came with pregnancy, but my stomach was a reminder of my first pregnancy...and why I was doing this. Annie watched me until t