Disappointment.

 

  Like I said last post, Bella’s case isn’t going so hot these days….or for the last four months.

 

AGAIN on Monday, Dad missed Bella’s hospital appointment.  I think that makes 9 out of 19 or so – that they have actually attended.  This is not missing her yearly cleaning at the dentist.  This is a big deal.  And one of the symptoms of the primary reasons she first came into care.

 

Two weeks ago he was given a very sobering (in my opinion, very merciful) come to Jesus talk by the caseworker on why it’s so important – ya know, life and death – that he show he can be at every appointment. 

This is combined with several other things that are, well, not going well, for lack of a better description. 

 

It’s hard for me not to feel disappointed.

 

I go back and read posts like this one, and this one and I am reminded how well things were going – or seemed to be.  She was doing visits four days per week, a 30 day home trial was impending, we had two different dates she was supposed to go home.

 

I guess I should just lower my expectations?  Then when no one shows up at the hospital, or we get a call with more bad news, it will just be like I was expecting it?

 

But somehow, lowering my expectations feels like giving up hope.

Hope they’ll get it together.  Hope their family could be healed.  Hope that Bella won’t forever have to live with the loss of her birth family.

 

In some ways I am though.  I don’t know how to tangibly support reunification anymore.  I don’t know when to believe what Dad is telling me.  I don’t know what to tell Bella when she talks about her future.

 

15 out of 22 months is up in October.**  The caseworkers haven’t given us a clue one way or the other how they think things might go.  Do we plan and prepare our hearts for adoption?  Do we continue to root for reintegration when things seem so scattered and broken?  We are open to adoption, and would of course be excited and love that Bella and her sister would join our family.  But it just feels a little disappointing.  This isn’t what I have wanted for her.

 

We can only pray that God would prepare our hearts for where we are headed, and help us to prepare Bella’s in the same way.

 

 

**Legally, in the foster care system, when a child is in state custody for 15 out of any 22 months, the court has to reassess the situation, and unless reintegration is imminent or seems absolute, they are supposed to change the goal (either to adoption, kinship,or independent living.  In theory, this keeps kids from drowning in foster care for years on end.

Maturational Loss.

In MAPP class we take time to talk about maturational vs. situational losses. It's the difference between losses that are expected, and generally have gains that accompany them, and unexpected losses that don't have much of a silver lining.

Moving away from home: Maturational loss. It's expected. You lose living with your family and the immediate support of them being there (and probably someone cooking meals for you.), BUT you gain independence and responsibility.

Family member dying in car crash: Situational loss. It's unexpected, and there isn't any gain that goes along with the loss.

So. In theory, a child going back home from foster care is a maturational loss (for the child and the foster parent.). This always trips up my MAPP classes. But it's (hopefully. ideally.) planned for, prepared for, and is a planned out transition. (I said ideally.) There are losses involved - foster parents, foster siblings, new friends, school, etc. - but there are also obvious gains - being back with their bio family, reuniting with old friends, etc.

A maturational loss, it is.

But, to me as a foster parent, it doesn't always feel that way.

I know that Bella is going home. I know that we are in the midst of a rather long, and planned out transition. I know that it is a good thing, and that there will be gains that accompany the losses.

But it still catches me off guard.

I spent a long time packing Bella for her Christmas trip. I wanted to make sure she had everything she could possibly need, and probably several things she won't. I wanted to help her feel safe in the transition. All that packing was a good mental prep for me too - reminding myself that she won't be here for Christmas, and that it is a good thing.

But as we packed her things into the transporter's car, it didn't feel so maturational. I wanted her to stay. I wanted to watch her Christmas morning. I wanted her to be there for our very last night of advent as the anticipation rises in our hearts and the kids go to sleep longing for the sun to rise.

She spent Christmas where she should be. Outside of the hurt from watching her transition out of our lives, it is where I want her to be. I'm so glad her mom and dad got to watch the excitement in her eyes that morning. She is building memories and traditions with them that she will have forever.

But this does not feel maturational.

Caseplan.

Bella's case plan meeting was two and a half weeks ago - I just suck at getting updates posted in any timely manner.

I think it has something to do with the children who have, in the last 24 hours, squeezed all of my lotion out onto the floor and practically bathed in it, covered the kitchen floor in thousands of tiny pieces of paper bag confetti, and opened every card game that we own and mixed all of the cards together into one big mixed up pile - all in the name of having fun.

The case plan meeting went very well.

Dad is still very motivated and doing everything he is asked. Mom (more recently) has really gotten on board and is seeming much more excited to get the girls home.

The plan is to officially, 100% transition Bella home at the very beginning of March. Her next court date is March 1, and they will move her in the days following. Between now and then, they will continue to do weekend visits and possibly start extending them into the week.

They've done a very thorough job at planning this transition. They have slowly increased visits, and will continue to do so, while monitoring how things are going. They have put family therapy in place that will help the family with nutrition and family interaction. And after Bella transitions home, they will continue to monitor how everything is going in the home for three months. I have to say, I am impressed. This is the best we've seen the system work thus far.

It is also helpful that we have had the opportunity to develop a good relationship with Bella's parents. I see them at every doctor's appointment, which is very frequent. They also call every night to talk to Bella, which keeps communication open between us. Bella's Dad has always been very excited to tell us about his progress, and we've been happy to provide support and encouragement along the way.

The only thing that concerns me is the emotional toll it is taking on Bella to go back and forth between our house and her parent's house. Every weekend she goes there for 2-3 days (soon to be more) and then has to leave again and come back to our house. It has been extraordinarily difficult for her to process.

In her attempt to process the back and forth, trauma related behaviors have snuck up and attacked. Huge, long, irrational tantrums are our norm these days. We've also seen a lot more defiance and disrespect. We've also seen a handful of behaviors tossed in that, "I get to do at my Mom and Dad's house." Pleasant things like spitting at us when she gets an unfavorable answer. It breaks my heart to see all of it. It isn't her, it's her pain. She's like a completely different child.

I'm just concerned because she will continue to be put through the proverbial wringer for another two months before she can finally find a resting place and consistency. I'm not sure there is a better answer though.

 

Anyway, we are officially transitioning her home.

Sisters. Part one.

I frequently get e-mails and questions about fostering from people who are either considering fostering, or are in the midst of licensing.  Of all the questions that I get, there is an overwhelming majority that are on one topic:  my forever children. 

In the interest of those who question, ‘But what about my kids?’ I thought I would try to document a little bit of what Bella’s transition home is like, for her, and for Sylvia.

 

--Before I begin, lest it seem I am void of emotion, merely observing how all this goes down with my two year old, let me say that this is absolutely the most difficult aspect of fostering for me.  Before we had kids, this was all much easier.  I can manage, I can field what is thrown at me and process all of these emotions (admittedly, not well at times.).  But the unknowns of going into this with my children is difficult, to say the least.  They are, far and beyond, the most precious gifts to me on this earth.  Honestly, what it comes down to, is that God has called us here.  Sometimes I don’t know why.  And my children are much more precious to Him even, than to me.

He has not called me here as an individual, or even called Brian and I here as a couple.  He has called us here as a family.  He has made this a part of my journey, and a part of theirs.  Sometimes I just have to rest in the peace of knowing the fierceness of my love as a parent, and that he is also Abba, Father.--

 

Sylvia and Bella have grown very close.  This is the first time we have had a placement that Sylvia has been old enough to really bond to them and become friends.  They play together every day.  They look out for one another.  They fight like crazy. 

This weekend was Bella’s first time being away overnight in almost six months.  She left Saturday morning for her parent’s house, and she will return this evening before bedtime.

We have had lots of discussions with Sylvia about where Bella goes on her visits, who she sees, why they are important, and that someday, she will go and live there forever.  We talk about it a lot (when Bella is gone) in hopes that when she actually goes home, Sylvia will have some understanding of what is happening.

 

 

This weekend there have been lots of times that Sylvia has forgotten Bella isn’t here.  When we were out to lunch, she tried to correct my order to make sure we got something for Bella.  When she got a new book today, she asked, “Where Bella’s book?”.  She’s not really seemed sad that she’s not here, she’s just so used to her being here that it’s only natural that she lives life as if she has an older sister along.

 

Every time she mentions her, the cracks in my heart begin to form.  Cracks from knowing Bella won’t be here with us much longer and cracks from knowing that my sweet baby will miss her.

 

But honestly, so far, Sylvia has dealt with this with a miraculous understanding (for a two year old).  She has verbalized that she understands that Bella misses her Mommy and Daddy, and so she should be with them.  It all seems much more simple to her.

Bella misses her Mommy and Daddy?   ….Well she should be with them!

Bella wants to live with her Mommy and Daddy?  ….Well she should go!

Bella is sad she can’t be there?   ….Well of course she is!

 

I think that this longer transition period will be good for Sylvia to adjust to Bella leaving.  She’ll be able to get used to her being gone a little bit longer each time.

In the meantime, we’ll keep trying to prepare her to say goodbye.

 

(If you have specific questions about this transition, let me know and I’ll try to get it in.  Just shoot me an e-mail.)

Answered prayer, aching heart.

It’s been really busy?

 

I guess that’s my excuse for telling you that Bella had a hearing, and then not updating.

But you all let me know.

So here’s an update, for all the e-mails and questions! 

(I feel very blessed that there are so many people who care to stay updated!)

 

All reports at court were good!

I knew that Dad was doing well – he’s been very motivated since day one.  Mom I was a little more concerned about – but apparently she’s come around and is doing very well also.

They have planned for Bella to start doing overnight visits every Saturday beginning in a week and a half.  These overnights will culminate in a four day visit over Christmas (hard not to have mixed emotions over that!).

Also, the court approved for them to have a 30 day trial home visit some time in the next 90 days.  I’m guessing it will start some time in January.

 

Honestly – this is what foster care should look like.

Motivated parents, progress, teamwork to overcome barriers to reunification.  I am so thankful for progress that is cautious.  Progress that includes the agency still keeping tabs on how things are going, and setting the parents up for success.  Progress that is not overwhelming for Bella, her parents, us – but is still working toward home.

 

 

With that said, we are headed into a transition back home.

None of our kids in the past have had a proper transition, for several different reasons.  I think a well played transition is more the exception than the rule. 

But even now, being given notice in months instead of days or hours, it seems so fast.  It’s just that gripping realization that before this season has even had it’s last snow, it is likely that our beautiful Bella will no longer be here with us.

 

 

That is mixed with an intense joy for her and her parents.  This is what I have prayed and prayed and prayed for them.  Through long nights rocking her to sleep through the tears, this is what I have begged for.

Fix the brokenness, mend the hearts, graft this family back together.  Redemption.

 

I am so happy for Bella, and so happy for her parents.  I pray the next couple of months are smooth and healing.

And although my heart aches at the thought of her leaving, I know that He gives and takes away for our good, and for His glory.  I will cherish the time we have with her, while championing her family’s new beginning.

Our tradition.

With each of our foster children, before they leave, we go to the ceramic shop and have them paint a light switch cover for our home.  About half of our light switches are adorned in artwork and memories – and eventually they all will be.

 

Bella has court on the 17th (read: tomorrow).  And while I’m told we can expect for nothing big to happen, there is something uneasy inside of me.  I wouldn’t put it past the judge to just send her home.  It’s been done before.

So, with this in mind, I took her to make her light switch cover last weekend. 

 

 

I always go with these grand thoughts of artsy looking children’s paintings to cover our walls in.

But alas, every single one of the covers we have done in the past ends up being one color (or several that are so mixed together that they appear to be only one) with very little definition or design.

Bella’s is no different.  It is three colors, all put on one sponge and smeared around.

 

But when it hangs on my wall, I will always think of this beautiful girl that I have been so blessed to know.

 

I also had her paint a picture frame for her parents for Christmas.

 

She is very excited to give it to them. 

I will be answering the same question every day between now and Christmas.

“How long until I can give it to them?”

 

If you could pray for her hearing tomorrow, I would really appreciate it.  I don’t know what to deem the ‘right thing to happen’ tomorrow – I just pray that whatever it is, that it is truly in her best interest.

The things I choose not to think about.

  Bella’s case seems to be moving forward, which is very exciting.  I italicize ‘seems’ because in foster care you never know what might happen.  I always tell my MAPP students – it’s not over until it’s over.  really over.  completely and totally done.  Like so done that it’s burned on both sides over.

You get the idea.

So we are excited that things are moving, but trying not to get our hopes up.  Someday after we’ve been foster parents for 60 years, I might get better at this.

 

We’re being approached about the possibility of having Bella’s sister move in with us.  This is actually the second time we’ve been asked.  I’m not sure it’s a good idea, as she and Sylvie are only 29 days apart in age.  I’m tired just thinking about it.

Show me a woman who has four children four and under – two of which are two – and I’ll show you a woman who’s done lost. her. mind.

Like I said, we’re considering it.

 

In the convo regarding her moving here, I pointed out that the case is, in fact, moving forward.  Her sister is currently placed in their hometown, and I brought up the fact that their hometown is probably the better place for them as we get closer to overnights, visits in the home, etc.  (I also brought up that if we are semi-close to the end of the case that another transition might not be what either girl needs…..I think that was dismissed quickly.)

 

Just after these words left my mouth, I realized what I was saying.

I was talking about Bella leaving.

As a foster parent, I don’t think much about when the kids leave.  If I did there would be no way for me to properly attach and love them.  So it catches me off guard a little when it comes up.

Bella leaving.  It actually made it a little bit hard for me to breath for a second. 

I get so accustomed to kids being here that when they go I’m left wondering how our family will function without them.  Here we go again.

I can feel the cracks in my heart forming when I think about her leaving.

But the other thing I tell my MAPP students is: 

If you don’t get attached, you’re not doing it right.

Always better when we’re together.

  As a foster parent, I always try my very hardest to support our kids going home and to help the family and kids work toward reunification.  That is, after all, the goal of foster care – to keep kids safe while simultaneously making it safe for them to be home.

 

Of course, there have been times when I did not want children to go home.  Those times were only in circumstances where I genuinely felt fearful for the safety of the children.  Outside of safety issues, kids should be with their parents.  Period.  I’m even willing to host a hearty debate on that.

 

 

All this to say, I have never wanted a child to go home like I want Bella to go home.  To read that sounds like I don’t love her.  I do.  But her Dad loves her more – and it shows.

  Every time I talk to him (virtually every night) he is excited to tell us about progress in the case plan and the things he is working on.  He has been nothing but appropriate on the phone to us as foster parents and to Bella. 

  He has even thanked us for caring for her during this time.  (If you foster, you know how over the top crazy that is.)  Which isn’t something that I, in any way, expect from bio parents – but it does show his understanding of the situation.

 

  Everything inside of me prays she goes home.

  Everything inside of me hurts for her Daddy every time we say goodbye.

 

Please pray for him.  And for her.  And that they get to be together.

Daddy's View: A conversation with Jae

(just after we said our good night prayers, I realized I hadn't given Jae a hug, so I went back into his room to find him gently crying)
Brian: "Jae, I forgot to ask if you wanted a hug before you went to bed, do you want a hug?"
Jae: (sniffles a bit) "Brian, I have a question, tell me if this sounds fair: At camp I met a foster kid who has been away from his mom for seven years, even though his brother still lives with his mom.  How is that fair?
Brian: "I don't know Jae"
Jae: "And now he says he gets to go back to his mother.  He's so lucky."

Jae: "Brian, I have a question: who invented foster care?"
Brian: "I don't know Jae.  It was created to keep kids safe though"
Jae: "I hate that person.   I wish it didn't exist to I could be with my mother."
Brian: "Jae, I wish foster care didn't have to exist either."
Jae: "I don't even know why I'm in foster care, it's so confusing.  Do you know why I'm here?"
Brian: "Because it wasn't safe for you to be at your house anymore, Jae."
Jae: "But I felt safe, who says it's not safe?"
Brian: "The people who's job it is to keep you safe."
Jae: "You don't even know how hard it is for me right now.
(eyes well up again)
I'm scared.  I could be adopted by somebody I don't even know.  What if I don't like them?"
Brian: "Jae, when you moved here you didn't know me and Maggie, right?"
Jae: "Yeah, but I've been here for three months now."
Brian: "But now you know us and love us and know that you are loved here.  Whoever adopts you will love you too."
Jae: "I just want to be adopted by my family."
Brian: (now I'm crying too) "Jae, I cry for you guys all the time.  I wish I could just make it go away, make it all go away and just be normal, but I can't.  All I can do is love you, and try to make you understand that God loves you, and that he has a plan for you."
Jae: "God doesn't have a plan for me."
Brian: "Yes he does Jae, he will use you for great things if you let him.

I love you  Jae.  Good night."

Please Pray.

Please pray for X-man.  Please. Please. Pray.

His current foster mom got a phone call today telling her to have all of their stuff ready, he and his brothers are being picked up this afternoon and going home permanently.

 

I can’t even explain how I’m feeling.

He came to us at 15 months weighing 12 pounds.  She almost killed him.  His brothers, at 4 and 5 were not even verbal.  No colors.  No numbers.  No alphabet. 

 

She almost killed him.

 

Not to mention they are going from one hour supervised visits once a week to going home?!?!?!?  This is asinine.  Not only is it insane, but it’s not even fair to his mom – they are setting her up for failure.  Going from never taking care of any children, to taking care of three high needs kids by herself? 

GIVE ME A BREAK.  CAN THE SYSTEM REALLY BE THIS SCREWED UP?

 

All I can figure is that the caseworker must have royally screwed up in court representing the evidence.  Because there is no excuse for this.

She almost killed him.

 

It should have been an open and shut case.  It was BAD.  Really, really BAD.

 

I don’t even know what to say.  And should probably stop anyway before I regret my ranting.  Please pray for them.  Please.  All I can see in my mind is his thin, sick little body the night they dropped him off.  He didn’t even know how to cry.

 

Please pray.  It’s my sweet boy.  I know that God knows this situation through and through, and he loves that boy more than I ever could.  But it is so hard to trust.

Picasso's going home.

Well....we were supposed to be having a little boy come to stay with us starting Wednesday. He was coming as a respite placement* for ten days. We've done respite for him before - and he is quite a challenge - but he is also so sweet. He is four years old and is not verbal, not potty trained, is a little on the physical side, and is extremely picky about food (which proves to be difficult because of his lack of verbal skills - which is none.). Last time he was at our home he finger-painted our carpet with yellow paint - which was entirely my fault, but due to his artistry, we'll just call him Picasso.
Picasso had a court hearing yesterday and they sent him back home with his parents. This is a good thing. (This becomes the mantra you whisper to yourself as a foster parent - to remind yourself that going home is good, even if not ideal.) If you could just keep him in your prayers though, I'd love you for it. His situation was pretty severe when he came into state custody, and in severe cases it always makes you a little nervous about their homecoming (or homegoing?). There's just so much risk. Which is different than danger (more on that in another post) but is still a little tie-your-stomach-in-knots nerve wracking.

So, if you could keep little Picasso in your prayers, that would be great. I'll whisper a little prayer for him every time I walk across our yellow carpet.



*For any of you not versed in the lingo of Social Services - a respite placement is a temporary placement where you take care of a foster child who actually lives long-term in another foster home. It's kind of like extended babysitting for another foster family. In this case - they were going on a vacation that, due to his developmental delays, he couldn't participate in. So, we would have watched him for the ten days as a respite placement. Does that make sense?