On Trust
We are heartbroken. S's youngest brother has been with the same family since the kids were removed six years ago. About a year ago, the family decided not to adopt him, but said they would have him under guardianship for the rest of his childhood. He chose not to be put up for adoption, and by all accounts, he was doing well.
S has not heard from him since before Christmas, and we didn't get any response when we sent him Christmas gifts. She's written him two or three times since--no response. The middle brother and his adoptive dad will be visiting this summer, and his dad inquired about having the youngest brother join us. We were told this probably wouldn't work, as he was going through a "hard time."
Today, we learned that the family has given him up. We don't know any other details--where he's staying (foster home? residential treatment center?), or anything else, but we will be involved in talking about a strategy for finding him a permanent family.
The only consolation we could find in this day of many tears is that maybe, just maybe, this family was never committed, and therefore it was going to take something big like this to open the pathway for him to find another, better home. There are so many kids in the system that if a kid is doing relatively well and not dying to be removed, he or she is no longer a priority within the system. S and the middle brother were both in homes in which they were not making a lot of progress and where the families were going to remain foster care situations, and not guardianships, so there was a great incentive to get them into new homes. We are praying that now that he is no longer with them, he will become a priority.
I am angry--who gives up on a child after six years, just when he is getting to the range of ages that are most difficult for all kids, regardless of their trauma history? Even if the "worst case scenario" happened--if he seriously hurt another child or an adult--a family that has loved a child for six years, who went into the placement willingly and knowing his history--should be able to stick it out.
I remember that when I was considering S, one of her social workers gave me an article to read about a mother who adopted a son knowing he was very likely to abuse and even possibly kill other people, given his history. She did her best with him, but he did just that--abused a woman, later killed another man. He went to jail for life. She visited him regularly and never stopped calling him her son. The social worker said to me, "With the kids in this family, and with many of our hard-to-place kids, this is the kind of commitment you have to make. You need to search your heart and be sure you're strong enough to make it."
I believed then that I was, and I still believe I am.
Today, when we went to the local diner for grilled cheese, fries, and milkshakes, as we do every Friday as a little "we survived the week" treat to ourselves, S said to me, "Mom, you wouldn't ever..."
She didn't have to finish. I asked her to take my hands and to look me straight in the eye. "No matter what you do, no matter what happens, I will never give up on you," I said.
She nodded, but kept holding onto my hands until our shake came. I'm not sure she fully believed me--I'm not sure she will ever fully believe me. I have told her before that it's OK if she never understands how much I love her or how committed I am, if she never fully trusts me--I don't need her to trust me. I'm going to stick around whether she trusts me or not.
S has not heard from him since before Christmas, and we didn't get any response when we sent him Christmas gifts. She's written him two or three times since--no response. The middle brother and his adoptive dad will be visiting this summer, and his dad inquired about having the youngest brother join us. We were told this probably wouldn't work, as he was going through a "hard time."
Today, we learned that the family has given him up. We don't know any other details--where he's staying (foster home? residential treatment center?), or anything else, but we will be involved in talking about a strategy for finding him a permanent family.
The only consolation we could find in this day of many tears is that maybe, just maybe, this family was never committed, and therefore it was going to take something big like this to open the pathway for him to find another, better home. There are so many kids in the system that if a kid is doing relatively well and not dying to be removed, he or she is no longer a priority within the system. S and the middle brother were both in homes in which they were not making a lot of progress and where the families were going to remain foster care situations, and not guardianships, so there was a great incentive to get them into new homes. We are praying that now that he is no longer with them, he will become a priority.
I am angry--who gives up on a child after six years, just when he is getting to the range of ages that are most difficult for all kids, regardless of their trauma history? Even if the "worst case scenario" happened--if he seriously hurt another child or an adult--a family that has loved a child for six years, who went into the placement willingly and knowing his history--should be able to stick it out.
I remember that when I was considering S, one of her social workers gave me an article to read about a mother who adopted a son knowing he was very likely to abuse and even possibly kill other people, given his history. She did her best with him, but he did just that--abused a woman, later killed another man. He went to jail for life. She visited him regularly and never stopped calling him her son. The social worker said to me, "With the kids in this family, and with many of our hard-to-place kids, this is the kind of commitment you have to make. You need to search your heart and be sure you're strong enough to make it."
I believed then that I was, and I still believe I am.
Today, when we went to the local diner for grilled cheese, fries, and milkshakes, as we do every Friday as a little "we survived the week" treat to ourselves, S said to me, "Mom, you wouldn't ever..."
She didn't have to finish. I asked her to take my hands and to look me straight in the eye. "No matter what you do, no matter what happens, I will never give up on you," I said.
She nodded, but kept holding onto my hands until our shake came. I'm not sure she fully believed me--I'm not sure she will ever fully believe me. I have told her before that it's OK if she never understands how much I love her or how committed I am, if she never fully trusts me--I don't need her to trust me. I'm going to stick around whether she trusts me or not.
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