Courthouse Blues

We had court this morning for a permanency hearing. By law children in foster care must have such a hearing every six months to ensure their case is progressing or to remedy the reasons why it might be stagnant. Often times these hearings are just a review of how much has not been done in the previous six months. At least that’s my take on the whole charade. At our last permanency hearing in December the CHOR case work who was substituting as our case worker said she had hoped the adoption would be finalized before this most recent hearing. I scoffed at her positive notion that the county and the courts would work that fast. Sadly, I was right. The travesty of children living in limbo in foster care is just one of the many injustices foisted upon these innocent lives by a bloated, uncaring, broken system. I almost began sobbing when the magistrate said, “And for Love Bug, he has been in care for 15 out of the last 24 months, he’s been in care for nearly two years. His whole life.” I wanted to cry buckets because it is true.

 

The hearing began with the parade of children in front of the magistrate. She questioned the two girls about their ages and grades in school and gave them a fist bump. I was holding Love Bug because he was scared and disinterested in being in anyone else’s arms. He did let his mother hold him briefly so we could take pictures, but then squirmed to get back to me. After the magistrate gave Love Bug a fist bump, the girls were sent back upstairs to the CYS children’s waiting room and Love Bug was left with me until the worker returned. Initially, he was content to be on my lap, but that didn’t last for long. I tried to keep him contained, but he soon felt comfortable enough to slide off my lap and explore the room. I really wanted to listen and pay attention, but I was too busy trying to wrangle a toddler in mime to really pay attention. I did hear the magistrate express her frustrations that grandma hasn’t completed a physical and some other paperwork to complete her homestudy and have Mimi Momma move in with her full-time. The county case worker did try to make excuses for her, but the magistrate wouldn’t hear it. “If she can’t do these things without a child present, how can she be expected to care for a child?” The worker who took the girls upstairs finally came back for Love Bug, just as he was getting upset with me for not letting him wander around the room (he had found some great cords and AV equipment in the corner and was really looking forward to pushing all the buttons he could reach!). I was then better able to listen to the proceedings.

 

It was acknowledged that the bio mom has been doing better and following her treatment plan these past 3-4 months and she was commended for doing so. Her attorney tried to push for reinstatement of visits, but the county stood firm in declaring that visits could only be reinstated if the judge who revoked them received notification that it was therapeutically prescribed. The magistrate felt visits could happen as often as bi-weekly if the treatment team felt it would be helpful. The magistrate also stated that while bio mom is doing better, it’s simply a little too late in the game. And while she is doing good now, she does not have a history of staying on the straight and narrow and so more time would need to elapse to truly determine her fit to care for her children. Allowing that time would not be in the best interest of the children and so reunification is really not on the table anymore. The hearing ended on that sad pronouncement and we all slowly stood to leave the room.

 

As I walked past the kids bio mom, who had tears streaming down her face, I touched her arm and she leaned in and gave me a hug. I felt so sad for her in that moment. The case worker had mentioned how much better she looked, how much healthier she seemed and it was true. She was radiating with health and positivity. She was not the same woman I remembered her being. I know she worked hard to get to this point and I cannot imagine how hurtful it must feel to know all that work is for naught, in regards to getting her children back. Certainly, being healthier is better for her own self, but it won’t bring her children back to her. That’s a hard thing to come to terms with, I don’t doubt. The case worker proclaimed she did this to herself and certainly, if she had made these positive changes a year ago or even two years ago, the outcome might have been different. I certainly hope she is able to maintain her sobriety and healthy lifestyle because she could still participate in her children’s lives. I’m not opposed to arranging visits with her, if she is still healthy. I would be happy to send her pictures and little daycare crafts from time to time. My worry is this loss will pull her down and stop her forward progress. I hope to be proven wrong!

 

I asked bio mom for her address so I could send her copies of the pictures I took before court and older pictures of the kids. She jotted down her cell number and so I text her as soon as I had a chance. Hopefully she will respond with her address and I can send her a few things and open a line of communication. I also asked the county case worker about the little ones spending the weekend with their grandmother while I am at my sister’s wedding. She was fine with me arranging that and didn’t know why CHOR would make a big deal about it. She suggested I do that, rather than worry about the respite, since it’s been a hassle. I confessed to be having difficulties with CHOR and getting respite. I told her I didn’t think CHOR wanted me to tell her that, but it’s the truth. I also professed my anger over the issues regarding Love Bug’s tooth emergencies. She pretty much gave me the green light to proceed with caring for him when those urgent issues arise. She agreed a child should not be made to suffer because of bureaucratic red tape. It felt good to know she agreed with me on those areas, but I also felt sneaky, like I was cheating on CHOR because I like my county case worker better than I do my CHOR case worker.

 

So, we soldier on. We deal with the issues that will creep up because Chica Marie saw her mom for the first time in a year and try to keep having visits with her sister who is stuck between two homes at the moment. I would like to say I hope we won’t have to attend the next court hearing in November, but sadly, I think we will be there. The TPR hearing that was scheduled for yesterday did not happen. It was continued and I don’t know if it has been rescheduled or when it might take place. I read on another blog that in foster care time is not counted in days, but in months and that is certainly true.