Like a fix to an addict...

Information. Information is to a foster parent like a fix is to an addict.  They need it. they crave it. its never enough. You always want more. It makes you do crazy things.

• Stalk stranger's Facebook, My Space, Instagram, Twitter.
• You learn the circuit clerk on-line records search, checking it multiple times a month.
• Comb through stacks of papers hoping something was missed in the sweep for confidentiality.
• Read the caseworker's notes upside down.
• Scribble down everything the judge says in court as if you were the court reporter.

At the most recent ACR, I was handed the kids' current case plan. I usually have to beg for these and it's usually several months after the ACR that I receive it. Normally the case plan is redacted and pages of information are missing as it deals with the "family history".  I think that kind of makes it hard to take a team approach and generally creates more issues. Personally, I don't think that everyone should get to hide behind "confidentiality" because really why is it confidential? Certainly nothing in my home.  If it happened to the kids, I should get to know about it even if it was witnessing Mom get beaten up. (See point 2 above. I already know about the charges and case outcome.  My life would be way easier if you just coughed up the details, thank you very much. And certainly, the records belong to the kids.  Shouldn't they have access to their own history?)

Caseworker #3 handed the packets to me with a smile and said "there is more information on here". (CW #3 appreciated my addiction resourcefulness. She understood.) Since the goal is now adoption I got to see more. I also got the benefit of having an office close to our home so I was able to attend my first ACR in person in 5 years.

Early on, the therapists told me we probably won't know all that happened to the kids.  They also said it didn't really matter.  We would treat the symptoms and assist with healing the unspecified trauma and focus on how they were progressing.  As a Mom, that is very, very hard for me.  They are my kids.  I'm supposed to know.  I'm the keeper of their lives.  How can I help them if I don't know what happened to them? How can I absorb the awfulness if I don't know what it is? I'm the adult, I need to carry the heavy stuff for them and let them be kids.

I didn't read the Case Plan until I got home. The information Caseworker #3 was referring to was a new summary of all of the indicated events that brought the kids into care. There wasn't just one. There were more than 4 at different periods of time. I learned the names of different boyfriends that abused her. I learned the last name of one of the other siblings. Failure to protect or prevent harm. Over and over again. I cried.  Just this little piece of information and I couldn't understand why it took so long for them to be protected from harm. Clearly these kids needed help.  It was like reading the newspaper articles about the department when a kid in care dies. 

I'm going to need a stiff drink when we get their subsidy packet back.  I have a feeling there is a lot worse in the files. 

Name Update

I sound like a gosh darn owl.  I'm asking "who" said this, "who" did what? All.the.time.

Who, who, who.

I don't know a (fill in the original name here).

We keep checking with the kids. They keep telling us there are excited for their new names.  Its just hard to remember. 

Its especially hard to use their new names when speaking about past events.

We will get there. 

Stella and I had a long talk about being able to tell me its sometimes hard for her to remember her name.  She was afraid I would be upset.  I reminded her I understood, I changed my name when I got married.  I had been Foster Mom R Maiden Name for 25 years. 

Then I shared the story about Hubby sending me a postcard from Europe to my Maiden name a few years after we were married.  And Grandma having my Momagenda personalized with my old initials.  The lesson being that name is always apart of us.  We just need to make space for the new one too.

The school was great.  They added their new names to all of their class lists and name plates.

The hardest has been....family.

We got a lot of flack from the grandparents.  Both sets.  My Mom understood more because she hears more about the process and had time to get used to what was happening. My Dad was grumbly because that's how he is about change.

Hubby's parents reacted the most strongly.  Hubby called to tell them about court and the name change and he got a lecture about their names being their names. Then he was told that Sheila was their "real Mom" and we couldn't take that away from them.

Hubby fired back - "Foster Mom R isn't any less real as their birth mother. I'm not any less real than their birth father.  If anything, we are more "real" because we do the every day stuff that makes you a parent."

I can't tell you how proud I was of him for that moment.

Can I just say its August and I'm already dreading the holidays a bit....


 

My Sarah

My Sarah has been having a tough few weeks.  By far she is the most emotional out of the kids right now.  The amazing part,  is that a year ago her therapist was watching her for a possible Reactive Attachment Disorder diagnosis so I have to remind myself that all of these genuine feelings are a good thing.

Gone is the superficial, sugary sweet, charming persona with strangers.  Gone is the avoidance of parental figures. Gone is the avoiding eye contact. The dissociation is a lot less and when she is disregulated she is able to communicate in either sign language or body language. This weekend she threw out "Then you aren't my father" at hubby. She was feeling unloved big time. But she was at least speaking about her feelings.

Tonight we got home from therapy to find Hubby finishing up a project at the house. As we were walking to the door Sarah said to me, "Mom I don't know why but I kind of feel bad for Dad."  And then she began to cry.  She was totally confused by this feeling that overcame her.  If I had to guess it was longing. I was so proud of her for sharing what was going on.  We walked over to Dad and she got some hugs and we went on with our night.

As I left her room she said "Good night Mommy". It wasn't lost on me that this is a name she usually reserves for Sheila.  We had a conversation earlier that one worry for adoptive Moms is that their adoptive kids won't ever really feel like they are "real".  (I despise this term as all of us are real but this is a term kids understand.) She was surprised by this idea and I believe that she was trying to tell me that she already equates me to her "real" mom.

All of these signs of healing are part of the reason why I believe all children in foster care should come in with an automatic referral for therapy to a trauma and attachment based practice and only after the therapist, the foster parent, and the case worker have decided that therapy isn't necessary, should it be discontinued. How many kids are missing opportunities for early intervention because paperwork wasn't filled out?  How many kids are wasting away in treatment with therapists that lack these critical credentials?

Yeah, yeah, yeah budgets, blah blah blah.  Treat the root causes and the budget gets better.  My guess is better psychotherapy will result in less medications, less hospitalizations, less foster parent turn over, less case worker turn over, etc.  Same goes for the parents.  Get them fantastic therapists.  I watched as both Maria and Sheila have suffered from therapists that didn't seem all that interested in helping their clients.  Sheila's therapist actually told the caseworker she couldn't be at the meeting to discuss openness because the night we picked "is my money maker night" and we couldn't expect her to lose income. 

Baby Mine

I love my mother dearly. I am grateful for everything she has done to help us in our journey. She has been my rock many times and has filled in and picked up kids, took them to appointments, and got them organized when I had my hands full with something else. But she isn't always the best person to be my sounding board. She has a very hard time being neutral. And my Mother does not hold back her opinion. Ever. She doesn't do it to be mean or hurtful. I think she's really aiming for honest and open but it often feels judgemental and critical.

Over the years I've learned to consider her statements and then go with my gut even if she thought what I was doing was wrong.

When we first told her we were going to be foster parents she tried to talk us out of it. She relayed a horrific story about a friend of hers. We of course proceeded anyway and tonight she sat surrounded by her grandchildren that she truly adores.

My Mom has heard me cry on a number of occasions about my infertility. She's reassured me that the pain I have felt as I have watched all of my friends have babies didn't make me an awful person. She has listened as I've questioned why it is that mothers who hurt their children can continue to give birth but I can't.

I know she would love on a grand baby and it wouldn't matter her if the child was biologically mine or not. When I told her about Sheila being pregnant she got all excited. Tonight she made several comments about how she thinks we should take the baby. "I would do it."

I know my Mom would help. She's offered to provide the first year of daycare. She's an amazing grandma but at the same time it wouldn't be her doing it. It would be me. And that's when it hit me.

In my heart, I don't think I could be the mother to this child. I wish I could explain how helpless that thought makes me feel. No one likes to admit their limitations. In fact, I pretty much walk around pretending I have a cape on my back. And I came head on with the fact that when I signed up to take these four forever, I shut the door pretty tight on any other children much less an infant. 

I appear to have my act together but most days I feel like I manage by the skin of my teeth. And my kids have a background of trauma. Sure we are doing fine now but we haven't hit puberty yet. How on earth could I have 4 teenagers and a kid in 1st grade?

We just bought a house and have another house we need to find a renter for. I'm in the middle of Grad School and I work full time. And while Hubby is a great Dad his work schedule is unpredictable and it would be up to me to provide consistency for a baby with a schedule.

The therapists encouraged us to make a decision before we were actually asked to take the baby. But it seems like such an awful choice to make. Will a baby topple us? And if we don't open our arms then what happens to this child? This sibling of my kids. Will my kids resent me for turning my back on their brother or sister? Will they resent me for taking on their sibling (because I will be in over my head)? 

And after all of the prayers and tears for a baby how could I be such a hypocrite when there is the possibility of one? Seriously for more than four years I've written about wanting to be a Mom and I turn my back on an innocent baby? But where do we draw the line? What about the next baby?

Now I'm crying because there is a baby? And what about Sheila? Does she even know that her baby is likely to be taken? 

It's so confusing. It seems like it should be a simple choice. But I feel like either way is wrong. 

Family

We've been talking a lot about family this week. One of the kids told me that Hubby and I being married was "a problem I have to fix". The kids haven't had too many examples of a healthy marriage. And we discovered, they don't really know what "married" means. 

And of course after a family therapy session all about families and family traditions Smiley and Sarah had total meltdowns. Sarah crying in the car and mumbling under her breath that she doesn't want is to be her family.

Poor kiddo.

And then it got worse as Sheila cancelled her visit.  I was really disappointed because I knew the kids were going to take it hard. With school starting it's already been a rough week.

Sarah took it the hardest. Crying for her Mommy. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Simon then asked about visits with his Dad and how come they stopped. 

How do you explain to a kid whose parents keep letting them down, that once again, they aren't going to show. 

I told him that I was sure that his parents love him and that they were trying their best. And he's a great kid and whatever keeps them I'm sure they are sorry.

But that's not enough. I'm angry for him. I want to shake these adults and scream to look. Look at these beautiful kids who are so hurt and can't trust anyone, especially those they should trust. We are a month away from a permanency hearing and they are missing visits. It's so sad. 

We ended the night doing our homework from family therapy. We watched our wedding video. It was a good reminder for us as well. I had actually forgot how happy we were. How much laughing we did. I know we had fun but I forgot all the touching moments. 

We had a rough year last year. And differently proved in good times and in bad.