A Father’s Love is the true story of a father’s battle to be a part of his son’s life. You can read access all of the chapters in the Table of Contents.
To say Camille’s childhood was unpleasant would be a major understatement.
She never met her father – she doesn’t even know his name. Her mother abused drugs and ran the street, so she and her siblings became wards of the state at early ages. She went through all of the typical things you hear about… physical and sexual abuse… constantly changing homes… having to grow up faster than she should have. For the most part, growing up was unpleasant until she was placed in a good, permanent foster home at 12. Her childhood has created some issues within her that she still hasn’t dealt with yet. But because of the broken homes and other issues she dealt with, I never saw what was coming next.
She wouldn’t let me see my baby.
To make a long story short, for the next two years I saw my baby once a month if I was lucky. The visits were only for a few hours and they were controlled with Camille present. The visits would always be centered around her wanting something other than what I was already providing. I still paid for everything associated with Isaiah. His daycare alone was $970. I love his daycare, but damn… $1,000 is $1,000 no matter how you looked at it. Checks kept being sent to the daycare. Clothes, diapers, and spending money was sent to her house. But of course that was never enough… she always wanted more.
I know what you’re thinking, “Why not just go to court?”
Well there were several reasons for that, the most important being state law. In my state, a father is only required to see his child for 4 hours every other weekend, and they can be supervised visits at the mother’s request. Isaiah was a newborn and I didn’t have much of a relationship established with him. She could’ve went to court and said anything and then I’d really be messed up. So I just dealt with it and kept being consistent.
Look at the big picture… establish a pattern of consistency… was all I kept saying to myself, but those 2 years were terrible. I have no memories of my baby’s first words or steps. I wasn’t at his first birthday party or any of those special moments most parents enjoy.
I was finally “allowed” to come over for his 2nd bday party. There were a lot of kids there and I can act like a big ass kid myself at time, so they all loved me. I was the only man there, so I stood out like a sore thumb but I was paying any attention to Camille or her peoples. I wasn’t in his life like I should’ve been, but I wasn’t a stranger to Isaiah either. He joined in the fun and it didn’t take long before he got attached. He sat down and ate in my lap and you could see all those hating ass bitches soften up. They’d whisper amongst each other and by the time the party was over, they were loving them some me. They’re all ghetto… got baby daddies that aren’t around, so I guess seeing a man with his son warmed their hearts. But I didn’t give a damn. They could’ve hated every single moment of it and I still would’ve been on Cloud 9. I was enjoying my son.
I don’t know if someone said something to her or she fell and bumped her head, but whatever it was Camille relaxed a little at that point. For the next month I saw him every other weekend and then she went to Chicago for vacation for 5 days and let me keep him.
Here it is, my son is 2 years old and I’m just now getting to be his daddy.
It was like heaven on earth.