Showing posts with label birth mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth mom. Show all posts

Thursday, August 6, 2015

My Dear Daughter

My Dear Daughter,


I know you’ll be much older before you ever read this (if you ever read this), but I wanted to tell you the story of how you came to be my daughter. I wanted to tell you the story of how you changed me as a person. I wanted to tell you the story of how much you are loved. You see, you did not grow in my tummy, nor are you my permanent, legal daughter. Instead you came to me because placement called me very early one Friday morning – 1:27 AM to be exact – asking if I could take you and your brother on an emergency, over-night basis until they could find you and your brothers a permanent foster home the next morning. I remember thinking about how tired I was because the week had been a very long week already since daddy had been gone and wondering how I was going to fare at work the next day. It seemed like it took the investigator forever to arrive with you guys in tow, but when he pulled into the driveway at 4:32 AM, I was wide awake from having been thinking about you for the previous few hours. All I knew was your names and ages. I hadn’t really asked very many questions because I was not in the habit of taking placement calls anymore so all of my “good” foster parent skills were rusty from disuse.


When Mr. Byron opened the car and got you out I remember noting how little you seemed, but my goodness you were so brave for such a little munchkin. You came right over to me with your half-eaten happy meal in hand and jumped into my arms. I asked you if you were sleepy though I didn’t really need you to answer as you were already asleep before your head touched my shoulder. Mr. Bryon bought your brother inside; I carried you. Since all the other kids were asleep, we put you both on the couch in the living room, toes to toes, covered you up with warm blankets, and neither of you moved a muscle until I had to wake you for court a few hours later. You were both so exhausted.


I didn’t realize the significance of that morning at the time, my love. I had no idea that you would end up occupying more space in my heart and life than just the tiny fraction of the couch your sleeping form covered, and I had no idea how deeply I would end up loving you or how fiercely I would have to fight to be sure the people charged with your care would make wise decisions for your life. All I knew at that particular moment was that you and your brother needed to sleep and that we would all be heading in to court in less than four hours.


After the judge made it clear that you and your brothers would need to stay in care, the case manager began telling me that they would start looking for a home for you but that since there weren’t homes available locally that you and your brother would likely have to be moved to the central part of the state. I knew what that would ultimately mean for you so I got on the phone and started calling my foster family friends who might be able to help. We were able to find a family locally that could take your two youngest brothers, your other brother would stay with the family who initially took him that night and you would stay with us – I couldn’t keep your brother with you because you guys didn’t all fit into my van and the other family couldn’t take you because they didn’t have space either. I knew I was going to have to do a lot of explaining to daddy. I also knew I couldn’t just let them ship you guys all over the state willy nilly, and I figured this would only be for a few days until the placement team would be able to find a home that could take all four of you together. Even before I knew I loved you, I knew I needed to protect you.


What started out as me loudly nagging everyone on the case to see if a home had come available to accommodate all four of you eventually turned into the quiet questions during our monthly visit with the case manager. Daddy and I were both very clear with all the players that we were a temporary stop because you needed to be with your brothers longer term, but along the way, everyday life was happening. We signed you up for taekwondo (which you were lukewarm about at best), swimming lessons, a music class on occasion, and got you set up with our regular pediatrician and dentist. We worked on learning everyday skills like recognizing letters and colors and numbers, and we started learning your food preferences (I should tell you now that you were a McDonald’s junkie, sweet girl, and that you could smell a French fry a mile away). We figured out that you needed a nap in the middle of the day or you would fall asleep in the middle of taking a bite of dinner and that you absolutely loved the song “Drinking Class” because you would belt out every single word at the top of your lungs when it came on the radio. You eventually slipped out of calling me and daddy Miss Heather and Mr. Evan and started calling us mommy and daddy, though that seemed to happen quietly and before we really knew it, and I even heard you and Warren referring to each other as sissy and bubba a time or two when you weren’t too busy arguing with each other.


You and Warren would fight like cats and dogs one minute, but then two seconds later you were thick as thieves plotting some mission of mischief – do you remember the time the two of you locked the babysitter out of the house? Liam, who almost never uses anyone’s real name, would run around screaming “Naaaaana” because he couldn’t pronounce your whole name – but he couldn’t stand not being in the same room with you and would search all over until he found you. You guys would fight over the Leappad in the car but would gang up on Warren if he tried to intervene at all. You and Elie had a more tumultuous relationship because you shared a room and she would regularly steal your toys, but even so, you guys would sing together at night when it was time for bed, and I could hear you telling her bedtime stories long after we had told you guys lights out and good night.


I think we got so caught up in the swing of everyday life that the passage of time slipped quietly by until we were reminded that summer was coming to a close and you would be starting kindergarten soon. Somewhere in all the craziness of these last few months you took up permanent residence in mine and daddy’s hearts, and the conversations he and I were having about the time when you would have to leave us became almost unbearable for either of us. I think both of us had privately entertained the idea that you could be with us forever, but as selfish as both of us can be on occasion we also knew that you deserved to be with your brothers. We knew that the home and love you had with us would never be able to overcome that deep connection siblings share – no matter how much we loved you and no matter how much we tried to change that. We knew that all of us were going to hurt and that you were probably not going to understand things initially, but we also knew that if we didn’t push the system to try to get you back with your brothers now it would never happen. So to keep you from having to change schools and to give you a chance at getting your brothers back, my voice to the case manager and placement team grew loud again. Baby girl, if you know nothing else about any this, I want you to know that I have fought for your long term life with your brothers tooth and nail. I have pushed people to think about the consequences of their actions to the point of even doubting myself and my own motivations at times. My only regret is that I didn’t stay as loud as I should have the entire time – though I know that if I had I wouldn’t have had your sweet smile, infectious laughter and mischievous spirit with me as long as I did – so I am torn as to whether I did right by you or not.


Long story short, the system was not able to find a home with enough space or resources to take all four of you – though I pushed everyone really hard to carefully consider the long term implications for you and your brothers if we didn’t work hard enough now to try to keep you guys together. I tried very hard to make everyone understand how the loss of a sibling can hurt deeply – even decades later – though I know I was preaching to the choir most days. I was angry – and frustrated – that it didn’t seem like the folks making the big decisions understood what I was talking about on a personal level though. There were so many people all trying to look out for what was best for you and your brothers so I want you to know that none of the decisions about your life were ever taken lightly. Ultimately, we had to compromise and agree that being with one brother was better than being with no brothers at all – though I am really sad – no, angry – that we have to make choices like this.


Up to this point in my life, I’ve never had to make the kind of decisions that I’ve had to make in the last few months. Yes, we have had many children come through our home, but you were the only child we ever took in who was old enough to know what was happening. You were the only child I’ve ever had to have adult-level conversations with about things that would make most adults cringe and run away crying. Sweet pea, you have handled all of this chaos in your short life like a little champ and have shown so much strength and resilience that I know you’ll end up changing the world someday. You have amazed me continually with your ability to heal and grow and your capacity for love and wonder. My sweet child, I am not your permanent, legal, forever mommy, but you will forever be my permanent and forever daughter even without the legal paperwork. You grew love in my heart almost without me even realizing it, and you changed the way I view the world because you forced me to recognize the places in this world where things need to change. But because of you, I am a stronger person with a renewed sense of passion for fixing what’s wrong with the system that brought you into my life.


You came into my life in an unconventional manner for certain, but you’ll be in my heart and mind forever.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Thank you to Placement - Part Three - and the last one for this year!

Dear Rachel,

Well… I’m a couple of days late writing this email as Liam actually turned three on Saturday, but seeing as how he is the middle child and everything associated with him has been late I reckon I’m actually right on time. Come to think of it, since we didn’t have him placed with us at birth, technically, I’m writing this on the anniversary of him coming to us… yes… that’s my story and maybe I’ll stick with that for now. If you’re buying that line I may have some property to… yeah… I’m not buying it either. ;)

I’m writing this today after having realized that my work clothes are covered in banana slime right below my waist. It took me a few minutes to figure out what all this schmootz was on my shirt before I remembered that as I was dropping my monsters off at school today Liam decided he wanted one last hug. He joyfully ran to me with arms wide open and a half smooshed banana in one hand, a handful of sticky raspberry cereal bar in the other (we were running late – don’t judge me too harshly for the choice of breakfast foods today) and a mouth covered with a messy mixture of both before burying his face in my tummy and giving me the best hug ever. I didn’t realize that he covered me with sticky as he was covering me with his hugs – but these are the best badges of honor a mommy can wear!

My messy shirt got me thinking though. My relationship with Liam is characterized by chaos. I should have known that was how it was going to be based on the phone call you made to place him with me… I was bathing Tiffany and Warren when I got a text message from Sherri Dirmann telling me that I needed to answer the phone when it rang because placement would be calling with MY baby. I was kind of going through a blue spell because we had just found out that Tiffany would be leaving us to go to a different foster home in a different county, and I had gotten used to having two kiddos around. Sherri and I had just talked a day or two before about how awesome it would be if we had a boy placed with us since Evan tends to have an easier time relating to boys. You called her first, but they weren’t ready and she knew I was. And that’s how Liam came to be with our family – at the end of a chaotic day, in the middle of a chaotic placement, and with a full complement of chaos in his own case.

Liam was a tiny little thing when he came to us. Teensy tiny. Even the preemie clothes were huge on him. But he was full of energy and never slept. And while he was only with us for four days that first time, it was enough for him to take up permanent residence in my heart. When the judge reunified him with his birth mom I just about died inside. And I can freely admit to that even though it goes against all of my good training as a foster parent – because we are supposed to want our kids to go back to their family of origin – and I usually do. But with Liam, I knew in my heart that it was not going to be a permanent move back, that he was not going to be safe, that it was a legal process because the judge had to work within the confines of the law and at the time there simply was not enough evidence to justify keeping him sheltered, and that knowledge killed me. For four weeks I wondered about him, I kept my eyes open whenever I passed the places his parents usually were known to frequent, I dreamt of him, and I worried. We had several calls for placement during that time, but I knew in my heart that Liam would eventually come back to us, and even though I knew there were other children who needed me right then I also knew that Liam would need me forever. And so we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Until Erica finally called me one day and said that they had taken him back into custody and asked me would I come meet her to pick him up.

The life of a foster parent is such a strange life. Liam’s case reinforced that for me in so many ways because his case was the first case where we had significant involvement with the biological family – most of my other kids’ parents had either disappeared, were incarcerated or were so significantly mentally ill as to have been completely incapacitated. It’s hard to have great joy and triumph when your children experience their milestones when you know that their families are missing out on those experiences. I’d never had to think about that before, but with Liam I always had those thoughts in the back of my head. I also had a lot of fear because he had so many medical issues in the beginning.

Figuring out his feeding problems led to his breathing problems was scary. Being sent to a cardiologist because he kept turning blue was enough to almost stop my own heart. Sitting with him in the hospital for a week as they tested and poked and prodded and stuck him more times than I care to remember was torture – for him as well as for me. Being told that he was significantly delayed by multiple specialists and then having the FASD and autism labels thrown at us was daunting – but through all of that and through all of the ups and downs of his case, he was a fighter and a sweet boy and always so super smiley and wonderful. I wouldn’t have cared if they had told me he had three heads and was part alien – he had already stolen my heart.

Last night as I was getting him ready for bed I got a text message from one of his former teachers who had sent me a picture of him with her saying “Miss my little cutie pie.” She hasn’t been his teacher in a year, but she still misses him every day too. I’m telling you – there’s just something about this little boy that melts hearts! And he calls me mommy. That’s the best part!

He’s as stubborn as the day is long and can give you a glare that will cut you to the bone when he’s angry. He also will most definitely let you know when he’s not happy about a decision you’ve made. He finds more ways to make messes and get into trouble (though I think his brother probably has a little to do with some of it and just hasn’t gotten busted yet), but when he turns on that million megawatt charm he can turn any situation into a funny little moment. So while my poor little middle child definitely suffers from middlechildosis and has to deal with his bigger brother sucking up all the oxygen in the room and his little sister stealing all of his toys, he somehow manages to have the biggest smile and the sloppiest kisses and the heart of gold that makes me know he is somehow going to overcome anything life every throws at him.

Rachael, I am so glad you made that phone call three years ago. I find myself with sticky handprints on my clothes and with lots of little messes to clean up throughout the day most days, but I simply could not imagine my life without Liam in it. He’s given me so many little memories over the last three years and has challenged me every single day to be a better person and for that I am beyond grateful. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for my son!

Love,

Heather Rosenberg