The police arrived around 8 the next morning.  My husband had gone to work and arrangnd for some time off given the uncertainty of what we were in for.  In my mind I imagined the cops coming in, seeing the videos, and putting handcuffs on Joshua and taking him "down town" if nothing else than for dramatic effect.  Surly that would cut through to him.

They arrived and watched the videos with the appropriate disgusted responce.  We shared with them the disturbing behavior that had been escalating over the past few months.  I did my best to describe his behavior when I found the videos the night before.  His flat affect and apparent lack of any remorse.  Joshua was in his room with the door shut, I assume sleeping, and the police never even saw him.  His father lives in the next county over and that is where the  videos had been made, so they were unable to take any action and to turn the matter over to the law enforcement of that county.  My hopes, if you want to call them that, of him being taken to juvenile corrections were dashed....he was only 11 and juvenile would only get involved if he were at least 12, even though a crime had most definitely been committed.  We begged to them give us some direction, some resource for mental health care, it was grossly apparent to us that something in his mind had cracked and we were clueless on how to deal with it.  All they could tell us is that the department of children services in the next county would be contacted by it's law enforcement and they should be contacting us in a few days.......a few days?  Something had to be done NOW, TODAY!

After they left I got on the computer and searched the phone book for any avenue.  No listings anywhere to "help me, my son is a pedophile"  I called a well known large mental hospital in the state capital who were very unhelpful, telling me I'd have to start with our local mental health agency.  I wasn't even sure if one existed for our small town.  When I did find a number and called, they were closed, it was Sunday.  I called our local hospital and asked for the emergency psychologist, I was connected to a voicemail (it was Sunday) and told to have the hospital operator paged if this was a true emergency.  I work at a hospital an hour away and am familiar with paging doctors so I had no reservations in doing just that.  I called the operator and tried to gather my thoughts of how to describe this horror in my home, seeing them telling me to bring him to the
ER where they would meet me and then most likely transfer him to another facility.  They never returned the page.  I finally decided to call Valle Vista, a behavioral health and addiction center up in the suburbs that I knew serviced children.  I had done some of my nursing clinical up there, hated the place.  After hysterically repeating the story for what seemed like the 50th time today they said we could bring him up for an evaluation but not till 9pm that evening. FINE, whatever time it was at least we had someones attention and this would surly be the start the ball rolling.  At that time I was thinking what a good thing it was that school was almost out.  We would be able to send him off to get the help he needed over the summer and have him back home before the next school year.  A big concern being that he may have to repeat the 5th grade.  What an insignificant concern that was.

During this awful day Joshua was told to stay in his room.  I did not want him anywhere near my daughter.  Actually when I heard him milling around in his room late afternoon I took him in something to eat and his daily seizure medication.  I was so sure and hopeful that when he saw me again, after the shock was dulled and he'd had some time to sleep on it I would see, feel a truly remorseful, confused little boy begging for forgiveness and help.  I walked in to find a cold, blank stare, a shell of my son....or who I thought my son was.  I told him to just stay in his room and that I was trying to find someone for us to talk to.  I could hear him during the day playing and laughing, watching TV, like nothing was out of the ordinary at all.  My husband went into his room at one point and I know tried to have a serious heart to heart and gauge his response.  He was a equally disappointed and frightened by Joshua's udder lack of regard for what he had done.

It would take us a little over an hour to get to Valle Vista and we were meeting his father halfway for him to follow us up.  It was warm and still very light outside when I went into his room, told his to pack a bag for a couple of days.  I made sure he had all toiletries he may need and his medication.  We got in the car and everything felt like a dream, or a nightmare.  We live on the back side of a lake community and it can take about 10 minutes to wide around the lake to the main road.  He was just staring out the window.  I was still violently shaking, tears uncontrollably pouring down my cheeks as they had been all day...I probably should not of been driving.  My heart breaking, ripping apart as the thought went through my mind that this may be the last time he saw the lake for a very long time.  Finally the silence was broken when he asked me simply "where are we going?" in this low monotone voice.  I told him we were going to a hospital where they had doctors that would be able to help us with what all was going on.  My own actions were making me nauseous.  During my nursing clinical I would often leave Valle Vista crying for those "poor" kids left up their by their parents, how could anyone do that to their own baby?  And now here I was praying they were going to take my baby in.