Angst and Frustration

Things have been stressful lately, both in my personal like and at work. I feel like most of the time I’m just living from crisis to crisis and trying to keep my head above water as best I can. My latest dilemma is regarding the fender bender we had a week ago Saturday. Our Saturday was going well. Too well perhaps. We got a lot of the things accomplished that I wanted to get done and we even had Love Bug and Chica Marie's older sister with us and still managed to take the old TV's and computers to the county recycling, change my name with the bank, pick up some dry cleaning and have lunch all before getting ready for the pool. We set out, all 6 of us, me, Primero, Esperanza, Chica Marie, her older sister, and baby Love Bug. We were mere blocks from our home when we smashed into a lady who didn't properly stop at a posted stop sign. And that's where our good day ended. In the ensuing madness the pool was a forgotten dream. The lady I hit said she did nothing wrong and blamed me on being distracted by "all the kids." (And the children were all on their best behavior when this happened, I might add – no one was screaming or fighting or running around, they stood calmly under a shade tree waiting for me, the cop, and the other driver to sort things out) To which I retorted that she drove through a stop sign and “all those kids” were foster kids. In calling the foster care agency I was told to take them to the ER to get checked out. Um, how? My car sustained heavy damage to the front with one headlight torn off and the bumper hanging on by an edge. We limped the few blocks home and I called the insurance companies while waiting for my uncle to take us all to the ER in his van and the foster family for the little one's sister to arrive and take her to the ER since I wasn't her foster mother. Unfortunately, she was in respite because her foster mother was on vacation in another state visiting her daughter. What a mess!! And, as if the accident itself wasn’t stressful enough, the woman's insurance company is calling it “shared responsibility” and only willing to cover 70% of the damages stating it was partially my fault, since I'm somehow supposed to know which cars are driven by people unwilling to follow posted traffic signs......

Before tragedy befell us with the fender bender, I was sitting with the girls while they ate lunch. Chica Marie’s sister smiled at me and said, “You know I’m saving my money.” I told her that was a very good thing and asked what she was saving it for, expecting to hear something along the lines of a pony, doll, phone or some other thing. “To buy you a house,” was her response. I thought she was joking around with me so I replied, “I already have a house” and swept my hands out to point to the walls and ceiling around us. “No, to buy you a bigger house so we can all live together.” Oh. Ooooohhhhh. Ouch! It’s a sad thing to hear from a young child who is living with her 6^th foster family. She likes to come to visit us and she likes being with her sister, but I think it is more than that. I think she desires the stability she sees her younger siblings having and the sense of family we have as well. The time she had been visiting us before this she began calling me mommy at the pool and clung to me just like her sister who is half her age. I don’t know if the county has revisited the grandmother’s offer to take her in now that the visits have been suspended. I hope they do. But in the meantime, I’ve taken it upon myself to be sure that the older sister gets to see her siblings as often as I can manage. I wish the other foster family would take it a little more seriously, but they are a self-admitted temporary home for her and so maybe they don’t feel like putting forth the effort, which I think is pretty crappy.

We found out from Primero’s adoption case worker that at best, his adoption will happen in November, but it could be as late as the end of the year. I’m so frustrated about it I almost feel like throwing in the towel and saying forget it! Not that I don’t want to adopt him, but at this point he will be 16 when he is adopted and why? Why has it taken so long for this to happen? TPR occurred in March so what has taken so long for the finalization to occur? Our date line in the sand is continually changing and it just isn’t fair to keep him/us in limbo this long. Just another frustration!

I am trying to help Esperanza get her birth certificate and other pertinent ID so she can get a driver’s license and a job. Thus far it has been impossible. We tried to order her birth certificate online but the credit card would need to be in her name. If we mail it in she would need to provide government issued ID, which she does not have. And this is our first step in getting her other credentials, like her Social Security card, license, etc. It’s a mess! I wish I knew how to go about getting her this information because she so needs it to become an independent adult!

Esperanza

I feel like so much has happened in the past two weeks that I don’t know if I will remember it all to relay it here. Primero had court last Tuesday. During my lunch break at work, right before I was getting ready to leave to pick him up, he called me to tell me his mom blocked him on Facebook. Apparently, she had commented on his sister’s post and when Primero couldn’t see it on his own page, it dawned on him it was because he was blocked. This upset him immensely. She later contacted him, after his sister told her it was terrible to have cut him off like she did and they are once again friends on Facebook. We went to court where Primero signed the paperwork consenting to the adoption and choosing his new name. He decided to go with his mother’s last name and my maiden name, which I had just changed with the Social Security office the day before. Yes, I have officially reclaimed my maiden name and divested myself of my married name. Hallelujah! Court was pointless, as I knew it would be, they talked about his play and joked about his character, Gingy the Gingerbread man. We waited longer to get to court than we were in court. We did see Hermano while we waited and he seemed to be doing ok. He claimed he would have been able to leave the facility where he was staying but he was playing football and so he stayed. His plans are to get his high school diploma or GED and then go to North Carolina to attend a college there. We shall see if he actually follows through on this plan.

We all survived the hustle and bustle of Primero’s play, which they perform three nights. He did a great job as did the rest of the cast. He almost broke up with his girlfriend at the cast party, but since he waited until the end of the night, I had shown up and he didn’t want to do it in front of me (even though I was sitting in the car and couldn’t hear a thing). I really truly hope they do break up soon because I don’t like this girl at all. She has done too much for me to even want to try to like her anymore.

Primero did not complete the schoolwork required over the summer to pass onto 9^th grade and so he will most likely be held back. I find this devastating news and I tried so hard to get him to do his schoolwork, but he was grossly unmotivated and therefore he will reap the consequences of his inaction. It’s so hard and I wish I could afford to hire a private tutor for him. I really think I need to look into that because he needs to get through high school and I feel unable to help him as much as I should. I did create a contract for him to sign spelling out what was expected of him and what the consequences were for not following through. I hope it works, but don’t know that it will. School is just not important to him, no matter how often I try to tell him it is.

Primero’s county case worker and his new CHOR case worker were over for a visit last night. The county worker just needed to give me a hefty stack of paperwork, which contained all the information in Primero’s file and she needed to review the compensation with me for him following adoption. Hopefully we will be getting a finalization date soon, she said right now they are booking for the beginning of September. She had also mentioned a few things about the other kids’ case that their mother has apparently found a job and she did have one clean urine test after several that were not clean. The case worker was mentioning that the grandmother had asked to be considered for the older sister again, and since visits have been suspended, it might actually happen this time. I tried to contact the sister’s foster mom about a visit this past weekend and she never responded. I sent her another message and she told me the sister is in respite and gave me the number to that foster mother, so I will contact her and see what’s what.

So Primero’s older sister is around more and I feel the need to give her a name here, since I’m sure I will be talking about her more often. I think I will call her Esperanza. It means Hope in Spanish and I feel like that is fitting for her. She is like a little flower bud closed tight to the cruel world, afraid to open and show her beauty because she has been hurt one too many times by people she loved and trusted. She and I have had some long conversations about her past and it is heartbreaking how often she had been rejected and treated poorly. I told her I don’t expect her to trust me that I’m sure I’ve told her the same things she had heard before from other adults, but that I hope to prove to her that I’m trustworthy through my actions. She deserves to be wanted and treated kindly and she really is a great young lady with so much potential – I hope to help her realize it.

Hard to Untangle

Sometimes it’s hard to untangle life, it’s hard to see the forest for the trees. Last Thursday I got a call from the woman who has been raising Primero’s older sister, the one who has come to stay with us on a few occasions. It was a long, difficult conversation. The impetus for her call was mostly because she believed the sister was spreading misleading and damaging rumors about her and she wanted to be sure I heard her side. She started off the conversation by telling me she didn’t want Primero to hear what we were saying. He never left my side the entire time we were talking, except to keep the baby quiet. In the hour plus that we spoke, this woman, who considers herself their aunt, did not say one nice thing about the sister. She called her a money grubbing, gold digging, lying, manipulative, slut. This woman lied to make herself out to be a victim. I asked her how I could help and she asked me to see if there are any services that she could use for the sister. I spoke with two case workers about her situation and one said it sounded like the girl was being verbally abused. She is 18 but still needs to complete her final year of high school and I don’t think she is emotionally ready to be living on her own. The case worker suggested she could sign herself into foster care, thus removing herself from her current home. Primero wants her to move in with us and given how insane things seem to be for her, I consented stating we would worry about the legalities after the fact – sort of like asking for forgiveness rather than permission. My heart breaks for this girl and she sent Primero a picture of her arm full of hundreds of nasty red slashes because she had repeatedly sliced herself with something. Her phone had been taken from her, so we were unable to hear her side of the story. When she was finally able to call, she sounded so broken it took everything I had not to pile the kids in the van and go get her away from the mess. This is hard because I want to help and I care about this girl simply because she is family through Primero. But, I also don’t want to start a war with the “aunt” (she is a friend of their mom’s whom they all once lived with so they call her their aunt) and I don’t want to over-step my boundaries. I feel like this is Hermano all over again with the only difference being this girl is not in foster care and is legally an adult. And I don’t really know what to do or how to help or if I should just worry about us and not get involved.

Saturday we will have Chica Marie and Love Bug’s older sister visiting with us, beginning the bi-weekly sibling visits. It’s convenient that she is back in town again, although I don’t know for how long. I’m sure she will be excited for the visit and I hope she will behave the entire time. We plan on going swimming to give her an activity rather than just sitting around the house. The foster mother and I decided we would take turns hosting the visits, although I’m not sure that she would be keeping Love Bug, probably just Chica Marie. I guess we will see.

Nothing New at Court

So the little ones had court yesterday for a permanency hearing. What a mess! This was the first time I’ve been to court with them and not gone before the judge, instead the hearing was before the magistrate as most other CYS cases. The county case worker gave testimony of bio mom not attending scheduled meetings or coming an hour late and not following up. The magistrate discussed all the things that needed to be completed before reunification could be considered and how little to nothing had been done. I had to interject at one point about paperwork not being signed for Chica Marie to attend therapy. The bio mom’s lawyer focused more on the dysfunction of the system and the lack of knowledge the new county case worker seemed to have, versus the issues of the bio mom not completed the mandated things she needed to do. There was heated discussion regarding why Love Bug wasn’t having visits when there was no professional, therapeutic evidence that he was being traumatized, as the case worker indicated. Never mind the persistent documentation by the case workers who facilitated the visits, stating how the baby, even at a young age, would howl nearly the entire duration of the visit. I wanted to recommend they put the bio mom and baby in a room together and see for themselves how he reacts. The lawyer wanted to know where the baby’s trauma came from, sort of trying to imply that it must come from his current setting, meaning my home, and not the visits. Or from the fact that he was “ripped away from his mother right after being born.” In the end, nothing was really decided, other than that another permanency meeting would take place in December. Visits were not reinstated. The bio mom was supposed to take a urine sample immediately after the court hearing and also sign the release for the therapy. The CHOR case worker said she overheard the mom telling her lawyer she couldn’t take a urine test that day because of certain medication she was taking. To me, she looked high. I also suspect she might be expecting again. She was wearing a dress with an empire waist, so any small bump would be hidden, but I caught her rubbing her stomach and noticed it seemed distended. I am most likely reading into things, but honestly, nothing would surprise me.

As we were walking into the services center yesterday for court, the bio mom called out from  behind us and so we walked in together and rode the elevator to the 11^th floor. She gave Chica Marie junk food and tried to hold Love Bug before her lawyer arrived and called her away. At that point I was ushered back into the playroom where the older sister was waiting. She was so happy to see Chica Marie and Love Bug, she picked Chica Marie up and carried her around the room. There was a case worker or assistant (she never introduced herself) who wanted to take pictures of the kids, who were not cooperating. The sister wanted desperately to hold Love Bug and got upset when he would react by clinging to me and crying when she tried. “He doesn’t know me anymore,” she lamented and then began to cry. I felt so bad for her, knowing she had been moved again. I asked if I could give her a hug and told her I had some things in the car to give her from the birthday party. I said we would like to have her come visit whenever that became possible then gave her a tissue and was called off to court. I discovered, during the proceedings that the sister had made allegations against her foster family and so was removed. She told me she is living back in town again, rather than 45 minutes away as before. I also discovered that the girls came into care in January of 2014. It was mentioned that they have been in care for over 15 of the last 18 months and that a petition was filed to terminate parental rights.

So, it was an insane morning, followed by a crazy afternoon at work and helping Primero deal with issues at his summer camp plus getting braces. I’m really looking forward to the weekend and hopefully some rest and relaxation!

Need a Breather

Primero and I had another fight this morning. During it he compared me to both his biological mother and father and it cut me very deeply. He accused me of not being affectionate with him. I accused him of not caring about anything or anyone but himself. And, now that I reflect on the whole thing, I feel like the worst parental caregiver on the planet. I hate these moments. I hate that these stupid things keep coming up and I hate how I handle everything. I’m fairly certain I am doing it all wrong and messing everything up. I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve these kids and even more sure that I need a little break, which will be next to impossible to get because respite is such a premium these days. But, I really do need a breather.

I found out yesterday, from a family worker at CHOR who comes to visit Chica Marie to work on completing her child prep and profile, that the older sister was moved to a different foster home. I was appalled, given how gung-ho the foster family was at court just a few short weeks ago. They had been so in love with this child, so amazed at how differently she was acting and how wonderfully she was fitting into their home and life. And *poof* it’s all over and that poor child is once again bouncing around foster homes. She was moved just last week but the family worker said she thinks the girl’s current foster home is just a temporary stop until she is moved yet again when the county case worker is back from vacation. I mentioned to the family worker how surprised I was, given their attitude the last time I saw them, and she said she didn’t really know what transpired but had heard the girl was talking about boyfriends and some inappropriate relationship things. I have no idea what this means, but I feel bad for the child who is now in her 6^th foster home since being in care less than 18 months. I now wonder if they will reconsider the grandmother as a placement for this girl?

Finalization Paperwork

Primero is starting summer school this week. He needs to pass Math and English in order to pass onto the 9^th grade. He knows this and he desperately wants to move onto high school, but he seems rather unmotivated to do the work. This is an on-going issue for him, one that has been an ingrained habit since long before we met. I need to find a way to be more proactive and helpful in getting him to complete the assignments. Mostly, I am looking at moving him back into a traditional school rather than keeping him in cyber school because he needs the personal attention of a teacher, not the impersonal attention of an online tutor. The school I want to enroll him in only starts at 9^th grade, so he would need to pass to get in. It might be a long summer for us!

We found out last week that our beloved CHOR case worker is leaving the end of this month. Primero is besides himself because she has been with him from the moment he came into foster care and has been his greatest  champion for over 2 years now. She is moving to Florida, so it’s not like she is taking another job but will still be in the area. She promised to be friends with Primero on Facebook and she will be keeping her cell phone number and is fine with him calling or texting if he needs/wants, which I think is great. He has a connection to her and I hope they can keep in touch and Primero can continue to get the support he feels from her. When she was out at our house last week she mentioned that CHOR has been interviewing new case workers and that we would most likely get assigned to the new worker. I balked at this, stating I had worked with a new case worker two years ago and felt so unsupported and discontent. I expressed my reluctance in “breaking-in” another new worker and both Primero and I asked if we could be transferred to the case worker who had been assigned to Love Bug for most of last year. I said it made the most sense, since she knew the story with at least 2 of the 3 kids and Primero just likes talking to her. Our case worker has little control over who is assigned to us, but she did say she would mention our request to her supervisor. She also said she would very much like to attend Primero’s adoption ceremony and will do all in her power to be there, even if it means coming back to the area from Florida (she did say she anticipates making several trips, so one of those trips could be planned to coincide with the adoption finalization).

So, that is the other piece of news she brought to us. Primero’s finalization paperwork has finally been sent to CHOR and she believes his adoption could be made final in the next month or so. I asked her about updating my clearances and medical information, but she didn’t think it was necessary. I hope not, because that could hold up the process. She said she wasn’t sure who would be assigned to manage the case, but that they should be in touch soon. His county case worker has still not come out to visit us and hasn’t really responded after I told her our availability. The adoption supervisor called me to set up a time to come out next Thursday for her first home visit and safety check. This means a massive house cleaning to prepare for her visit.

The other thing our case worker said we need to consider is his therapy and if it should continue. The case worker seemed to think it could stop and Primero is anxious to stop going to therapy. I feel somewhat hesitant to totally stop all therapy just because I’m sure there is plenty for us to continue working on and I fear being cut loose to navigate this transition alone. I guess that’s silly, but the second half of our year together was so rocky and we just weren’t communicating in the best fashion. I shudder to think how we would have overcome it all without having a third party to air our grievances with. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like we still have unresolved issues that resurface from time to time. I guess some things just might never be resolved and I just have to find a way to be ok with that. At this point, his mother is not in the picture while she is in rehab, but I am sure there will be a day sometime soon when she will pop back into our lives and all those feelings he’s never really dealt with will come rushing back. Our comingled insecurities just feed off of one another and we can’t seem to stop it. I know he has state provided insurance and so we could always find a new therapist, but I think being in a crisis and seeking therapy isn’t always the best way to manage these issues. I am still seeing my therapist, but it’s hard right now because work is crazy stressful and I can’t always get away to see my therapist. I guess we will just have to figure things out as we go along and hope for the best.    

A Year of Blessings

Today is one of those days that I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing on this same date a year ago. That’s because last year on June 30^th, I picked baby Love Bug up from the hospital. I remember waking up and taking Primero to his summer camp. I was so nervous because I had not heard anything from CHOR all weekend long. This situation was so similar to what I experienced with the Christmas Miracle baby that it had my stomach in knots. I spent the weekend doubting my decision to not attend the girls weekend with my sister, mom and aunt. I reluctantly dug out the bassinet, the car seat and the newborn baby clothes as I had done before. I tried to relax and not think about it too much like I had in the previous failed placement. I had been unable to sleep that weekend, my mind kept floating off to cloud nine in blissful ignorance of what was to come. This time, I was a little more grounded and a lot more nervous. I began pacing after I folded the second load of baby clothes and receiving blankets. I had decided I would wait until noon and then call CHOR for an up-date. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait that long. My first call came around 10:30. It was from a new social worker calling to introduce herself to me and explain she would be the baby’s case worker. I asked her for an update and she said she didn’t know but would ask the in-day supervisor to call me. A flurry of phone calls later and I was instructed to go to the hospital alone and to keep my presence on the down-low since the mom was still there.

It took me a while to find the maternity ward, but when I finally arrived, the nursing staff was expecting me. They quietly ushered me into an empty room to watch videos about SIDS, shaken baby syndrome, car seat safety, and what type of testing the hospital performed on babies before they were released. I didn’t want to sit and wait, I wanted to see the baby. I managed to keep mostly still as the nurses forgot about me between videos. Alone in the quiet room, I thought about what it might be like being a patient, a new mom trying to recuperate from giving birth. I thought about the anguish the baby’s mom would feel, leaving the hospital without her baby. After what felt like an eternity, the county case worker came into the room with her supervisor. They let me know the baby was expected in court in two days and said they were going to tell the mom they were taking her baby. Not long after they left the room a nice older nurse came in pushing a plastic baby bassinet in front of her. “Here he is,” she announced quietly. She gave me some information about the baby and then watched me dress him. My hands were shaking as I nervously and gently pushed his arms and legs into the outfit I carefully chose for him. He was so tiny with a head of dark hair. He didn’t open his eyes as I dressed him, but squawked in protest as I tried to thread his tiny hand through the sleeve. After he was dressed the nurse helped me adjust the car seat straps and then said she would come back with an escort for me. The staff and case workers were nervous his mom would get aggressive if she saw me leaving with him. Again, my heart ached for her, but the overwhelming joy I felt washed away those feelings.

I remember how surreal everything felt that morning. I was jittery, like I was on a caffeine high, unable to sit still at home or waiting in the hospital. Walking into the hospital with an empty car seat, I felt so conspicuous and rather odd. Most people go to the hospital to have a baby, not get a baby. But, this distinction was not on my mind as much as the thought that it was really happening this time. I was actually on the maternity ward waiting for a baby to be placed in my arms. Watching the videos and just sitting around made the wait nearly unbearable. At one point a nurse brought in a goodie bag with formula a t-shirt from the hospital, a blanket, comb, samples of lotion and baby shampoo and tons of coupons. Knowing the situation, she even snuck an extra formula into the bag for me. I remember texting some friends that I was anxiously waiting and how impatient I was to actually see the baby. I wished they had brought him in so I could snuggle him while I watched the videos. Until the baby was in the room, it all felt so unreal. I paced the room, peeked out the window and tried to contain my nervous energy. Then things happened all at once. The case workers arrived and talked to be briefly. The doctor came in to review a few things about caring for the baby and to tell me about his first doctor’s appointment. And then finally, the nurse brought him in the room. I held my breath as she wheeled him over to me. He was wrapped tightly in two blankets, just his little face and head peeking out. His eyes were shut tightly. The nurse began emptying the contents of the drawers beneath the bassinet into my diaper bag. She handed me his hat and said I should dress him. I was almost dumbstruck, staring in awe at this tiny little life they were entrusting to my care. I didn’t want to dress him I wanted to embrace him, to sweep him into my arms and snuggle him into my heart. But, I dutifully followed directions. I was awkward with the baby and afraid the nurse would sense my unease and tell the case workers to change their minds. I talked softly to the baby explaining I was getting him dressed and we would soon leave. The nurse left the room once I had him dressed and I had a brief moment to kiss his cheek before she returned and helped me bundle him into the car seat. Then we were off. It was a long walk with the security guard because I parked on the wrong side of the hospital. And I was thankful for the escort because I don’t think I would have found my way back out of the hospital. I was almost dizzy with emotions. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening.  

I thought how odd it was that I was leaving the hospital with an escort for the second time in two months (the baby I had for a weekend I also picked up at a different hospital and there were concerns about his parents being aggressive). I strapped the sleeping baby in the back of the car and then sat still for a moment to really take in what was happening. “It’s just you and me now, buddy,” I said as I put the car in gear and drove the short distance home. I couldn’t wait to get home and hold the baby. I struggled with myself about waking him, but my arms were nearly twitching to hold him so I carefully slipped him out of the car seat and nuzzled him under my chin. He was so tiny! And so perfect. I spent the afternoon just holding him and staring at his beautiful features. I literally pinched myself twice to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. I let my family and close friends know he was home with me. I remember how slow I was at everything with him, my movements methodical and careful like I was dealing with a doll made of tissue paper. Eventually I became more comfortable with manipulating the baby, but at first I was overly cautious. I probably did hold him too much, as a friend accused me, and spoiled him a little bit, but I simply couldn’t help myself. I had dreamed so long of having a baby, of holding such a precious gift, that it was hard to put him down. I also found that at first, he wouldn’t sleep unless I was holding him. I often think back to the very beginning and still can’t believe it happened. And I can’t believe Love Bug has been with me for his entire first year of life.

I was home from work for two weeks with Love Bug before I had to return to the daily grind. I was exhausted and struggled to stay awake most of the time because he was (and still is) such a terrible sleeper. I feel like the first 3-4 months were just a fuzzy blur because I was getting such little sleep. It’s really hard to believe that it was a year ago that I met Love Bug. It’s even harder to believe that he’s still here, still the sweet baby boy that I’ve been so blessed to be raising and loving. I’m the only woman he’s really known as his mom, I’m his primary care giver, the one he seeks when he needs comfort. He is the most adorable baby, with big bright eyes, soft messy curls, and a smile that makes me grin from ear to ear. His giggle is pure joy, his baby babble melodic and sweet. He loves being the center of attention at home, with Primero and Chica Marie fawning over him. I try very hard not to call him mine but he is – he’s my baby. He’s a momma’s boy through and through. And I love him with every fiber of my being. My sweet baby Love Bug.