It’s been a long week already, and it’s only Wednesday. After some unfortunate news I received yesterday, my mama heart has been stirred and broken. The lives of our little ones have been in limbo for the last two and a half years, and the battle of their best interest wages on. I’m exhausted. I honestly feel like I have nothing left to give some days. And yet, God gives me strength to get up and do it again. Day after day, living in the unknown. The unsure. Answering anxious questions from our oldest, who is trying to sort out the impossible. Cleaning up potty accident after potty accident from our sweet girl who has been potty trained for two years, but whose stress has taken control of her bodily functions. Receiving another phone call from the preschool to let us know our middle baby is lashing out on her classmates & teachers again. Dreading listening to the voicemail that will tell me we need to schedule another meeting to “come up with a solution.” I’ve read & researched & prayed & spent all my resources. I’ve enrolled the therapists. I’ve stayed consistent. But someone please tell me how a three year old is supposed to process her limbo life? These babies need answers. They need stability.
To say I’m stressed is an understatement. It’s hard to get out of bed most days and face reality. I woke up today, thankful for my first appointment this morning – with my personal therapist! Going through foster classes, self-care is brought up as an important part of the journey. I wish I understood how necessary it was AT THE BEGINNING. Unfortunately, it took about a year and a half to realize without self-care, we’ll quit. We can’t run on empty.
My hour session came & went. I processed, unloaded, sorted out, and thought through my life. I got a few more tools in my belt to help me cope with my stress & anger toward the child welfare system. And off I went to my next appointment of the day – meeting with the center that offers resources for my middle baby. You know, the one with the aggression issues.
Together, I sat in a room with three other ladies. I was given paper after paper regarding laws, rights, statutes, etc. She could be evaluated and it is their job to make sure she can get all the tools she needs to be successful. That includes anything from speech therapy, vision/hearing tests, school aides, behavioral therapy, and so forth.
{pause} I just want to take a moment to say I am SO thankful for the resources available to our children. Some of the children coming into care are so behind developmentally, educationally, and their behaviors are often less than ideal because they don’t know how to properly handle/process emotions. There are so many therapists & aides & doctors involved. The appointments are non-stop, but I am forever grateful that with persistence from caregivers, they can gain leaps & bounds. {end pause}
I sat there, so thankful to hear someone assure me she’d get as much help as needed. Then these words came from her mouth, “We’ll first need permission from her biological parents…” My heart sank. She ran through the possibilities with me. If the parents ignored their attempts to contact them, they could default to my permission as (secondary) parent. If the parents just consent, they can move forward with the evaluation. She didn’t bring up the third possibility, so I asked.
“And what happens if they parents say no?”
To which she replied that the evaluation would not happen and she would not receive services.
My eyes welled up with tears at the thought that two people, whom my child barely knows and has no connection to other than DNA, have the authority to deny her services. The state has deemed them (currently) unfit to parent, yet they are given enough parental rights to refuse their daughter the help she needs. Not one tear did I shed this morning in therapy, yet here I was in front of strangers, trying to keep it together enough to continue signing the paperwork in front of me.
We wrapped up the appointment, but my heart is still hurting. I’m still baffled at the inconsistencies of the law. I’m learning more about crazy loopholes and the ways defense attorneys twist truths to put the blame on someone else rather than the parents accepting responsibility and changing their lives. I’m struggling big time today. Days like today, I don’t stop to think if I can keep going. I think I HAVE to keep going. These babies need more people fighting for them. I am brokenhearted, but God is good. And His plans for these little ones are even greater than I can fathom. Today is hard. Tomorrow will probably be hard too… and He’ll give me the strength to get up and do it again.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit”
-Psalm 34:18
Fostering Life 