Agreeable

Penny had the best 7 year old birthday.  She was perfectly spoiled.  Her first (and maybe last) birthday with us.  Our Vernal family came (birth mom did not) and we had an amazing time with them.  I recorded a part of  it, hoping that somehow the video would get to the judge and he would see how beautiful it was for this foster family and birth family could have such good and loving relationship for the benefit of three very loved children.  Kyle and I had decided to tell them at the end of the party, as they were leaving, what DCFS was planning on doing.  Of course, they were devastated.  We cried together, and then they went home, I’m sure feeling as hopeless, and helpless as we did.  They knew if the kids went to Nebraska, they may never see them again.

The 2 weeks expiration date of our bonus kids stay came and went.  DCFS was not communicating with us, so besides our lawyer telling us he had submitted a motion to contest the transfer, and that it had put a stop to the transfer, we didn’t know what was going on or what to expect next.  I don’t remember the exact day, only that it was 3 or 4 weeks later  (I should have kept better track of things) that the caseworker called to ask if she could come for a visit.  I was as sweet as sugar and said of course!  

I made sure Kyle was there. I remember having a silent mini panic attack when not one caseworker showed up at my door but 3 caseworkers, one psychologist, and the assistant district attorney as well.  We had no warning they would all be showing up.  I knew it would be very good news, or the complete opposite.  I sat down holding two babies on my lap.  I was shaking.  I hoped it went undetected as I forced a face of confidence.  I wanted to feel control in a situation that I had no control in, I didn’t want them to think they scared me, but I also wanted to seem humble, workable, and open to compromise.  The ADA took the lead and said that after a lot of time and thought, it was determined that it would be in the children’s best interest to stay in our home.  There was a part of me that wanted to celebrate, and say “Haha, I told you so” , but I knew it was too early for that, and that it was of course far too childish—-and I was SO mature, I would never really do that—-just imagining myself doing it would have to be enough.  

However, there wasn’t any time to let that news sink in before they added “there are 2 conditions.”  I wasn’t worried.  I would agree to anything and everything.  One—“We want you to spend the time now until the adoption, without contact from the birth family. We feel it would be good to spend this time bonding with the children without conflicting or outside influences.”  Agreed, done, and two?? “We would like Emily to attend counseling.  This is not negotiable with Keith.  He feels you are unbalanced and that you need help with dealing with your issues with your relationship with DCFS.” There was a pause in the room.  I felt as if the entire room except for me was holding their breath.  I tried not to laugh, and with a huge grin I said of course.  I did add that I had no other issues with DCFS except them trying to take my kids away and give them to a distant aunt only related to ONE of the children, and that now that they weren’t doing it I felt great!  They still wanted me to discuss these feelings with a counselor.  I had zero problem with it.  I was more than ok.  An hour plus away all to myself and my new best friend on DCFS’s dime?  I was excited!!  Before they left I hugged the caseworker.  I caught her off guard, for it was a stark difference from the chastisement I gave her the last time she visited (that I was surprised had worked).  But I really wanted her to know how grateful I was.  Later we found out more of the story.  The judge did not agree with the transfer as soon as he heard about it. He heard about it because our lawyer had a nice long talk with the ADA. This is not common we were told, for the judge to go against what DCFS decided. Furthermore, after telling the birth family, word got around to what was happening…got around to some semi-creepy/dangerous other family members who then called and threatened and harassed the great aunt.  They told her to leave the kids alone, to let them stay, in not such a nice way.  The great aunt was nervous, and I think shocked by everyone’s response—-not supportive in the least, and started to have doubts herself.  

But my favorite part of the story was that after leaving my house, the caseworker got to work, finally standing up to her boss, with back up from the team, and let him know she didn’t agree with the transfer.  She did this before she even knew we had a lawyer. She knew we would probably get one, but before anything official was done, she went to work in the best interest of the children.  I was beyond proud of the team.  They really did care more about the kids than policy, which I wasn’t convinced was true until that moment.  It seemed, that despite what I thought about DCFS, because of my very limited, yet overwhelming negative experience with them, there are good people there, trying to do the best with what tools they have. Some are definitely better than others at their job. Foster parents still need to be ready to fight, in those circumstances when policy isn’t in the best interests of the kids, and in the hopefully rare cases when a DCFS employee decides he just wants to win the power struggle.  

A fun little tidbit of information.  I had tried to get a class covered by DCFS.  An expensive attachment parenting class specifically for adoptive parents.  They had said no two times.  When I called to schedule my first couseling appointment, they described a few members of their staff for me to choose from.  One was the teacher for the attachment class, and I chose her.  On our first visit, I explained the entire situation to her.  She was blown away,  she had never heard a story quite like it.  I was happy to offer her an interesting story, but more importantly, she was happy to offer all off her attachment classes in the form of my therapy sessions.  She saw no imbalance.  No angry individual sitting in front of her, so obsessed with hatred and disappointment in DCFS.  Instead she saw me.  A mother excited to adopt 3 new children, and in need of some tools and advice on how to be a better mom to those kids who had been through so much.  And for the next couple of months, I took a private class and learned all about the brain and how neglect and trauma affect it, and how to best help it heal, and form healthy and consistent connections.  All paid for by DCFS.  Alone time, powered with knowledge, and FREE.  Win-Win-Win.

Plus I got my three kids.  Can’t forget that! ;) 

Our Vernal Family

(birth mother wasn't able to come)

2 weeks

It was February.  The week before Penny's birthday.  We had invited birth family to help us celebrate and we were all excited for them to come.  I had a visit schedule with the caseworker, which wasn't unusual, but this visit she brought her supervisor with her.  Later, I realized it was because she was nervous and scared.  Too scared to deliver the news that she would make him deliver.  I was already nervous.  The Supervisor, Keith, had already shown me that he was the man in charge and that he liked it that way.  We had a team meeting a month before and it was disturbing to watch the other DCFS workers (mostly female) almost bow to him when their opinion didn't match up with his.  How quickly he was able to get an entire room on his side.  I didn't care for him much.  But I could tell almost immediately, the feeling was mutual.

He obviously wasn't there to visit.  And without warning, as he was playing with Max on his lap, he told me that they (He) had decided that since we at one point we didn't didn't feel as if we could keep Max, they had looked to a great aunt as another option and had decided to send the kids, who had been part of our family for 11 months, to Nebraska.  They would come back in 2 weeks to collect the kids and would we please have them ready.

I tried not to cry, to talk rationally and when that did nothing to sway them I cried my eyes out and begged.  They wouldn't budge.  I realized the caseworker had said little to nothing the entire time.  I finally felt bold enough to tell them it was time for them to leave.  But before they left, I turned to the caseworker, and in one last ditch effort, tried to appeal to her emotions and said, "I'm very disappointed in you.  You know this isn't right." She had no response, but I knew if my words could sway anyone, it would be her.  I didn't have a lot of faith in my words. or her.

After they were politely kicked out, Kyle was immediately on the phone calling lawyers.  We found out that if they had waited one more month, they wouldn't be able to make the transfer, that is why they struck now.  11 months they could still take the kids away without a judge batting an eye.  Or so we were told.  The details are blurry now, but I remember not being able to breath.  I couldn't believe what was happening.  I have never been so scared in my life, so helpless.  Kyle offered as much hope as he could.  And I just cried.  I think the kids went to a friends house to give me some time to pull myself together, but I don't remember.  I do remember wondering what I was going to tell the birth family, what I was going to tell the kids.  In the end, we didn't tell them anything.  We decided to have faith that we would never have to tell them anything.

I remember going into my bathroom, looking into the mirror for a long long time.  Looking at my red face and puffy eyes, and realizing my spirit looked as hopeless as it felt.  I took a picture, I don't know why, but I think it was because I wanted to remember exactly how I felt, how I looked, when I was about to lose three of my children.  A snapshot in time that would remind me of my lowest moment, and just maybe, someday, there would be a picture showing the opposite.  A picture of me looking into the mirror feeling triumphant and full of hope again.  I talked to myself and gave myself a pep talk, telling myself that I could do this, that everything would work out. But I had valid doubts.  There were many stories from foster parents that were sure their placement would stay, that they would adopt, but the kids ended up going back.  Many times they went back only to be returned to the foster care system within  a year.  There would be so many hearts broken.  Not just Kyle and our kids, but also the entire birth family, whom we referred to as our Vernal family.  I knew I had to fake it until I made it, and that weekend I planned on giving Penny the best birthday ever.

But first, we had to find a lawyer.  We thought it would be best to find one in Vernal, but it proved to be an impossible task.  We couldn't find a lawyer in the area that hadn't, at one point in time, represented someone in our kids birth family.  It was ridiculous, and frustrating. After meeting with a few lawyers we decided to go with one in Provo that we felt like would fight hard for us.  I was happy to find someone that would be on our side.  DCFS is very powerful, and having them on the opposite side meant almost certain defeat.  I reached out to as many people as I could, to see if there was some law that would prevent the transfer.  I made the mistake of posting on a Facebook page for foster parents for my region.  I didn't know where else to ask my questions, so I took the risk even though I knew caseworkers and RFC's were also on the Facebook page.  Big mistake.

It took me a long time to decide to post this picture (its a very ugly picture--and its a very personal moment for me).  I can't help but cry when I see it--because I remember how I felt, and how much I felt.