Tag Archives: fostering

Baby Birds

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bird's nest

bird’s nest

three eggs

three eggs

two babies

two babies

Misinformed robins built a nest on the railing of our deck. In early spring the skeleton vines had the potential to offer shelter. However, they were annuals I hadn’t cleared away yet. I’m sure the couple regretted their location once my children began occupying the backyard. Still three eggs appeared in the nest. We watched diligently waiting for them to hatch. One Saturday morning two babies appeared in the nest. That weekend three extra children were with me. They all came into foster care before the age of 3. Two are now 13, the other 9. They’ve been well cared for.

Panic spread through my troop of children when they spotted the baby birds. One of the 13yr olds was sure the robins couldn’t care for the babies. She quickly convinced the five other children. Having been disappointed by their own birth mothers, they believed the lie that these birds would abandon the babies. Despite my reassurance, they spent the entire day placing worms in the nest. A resounding cheer went up whenever the mother robin returned to the babies.

Mother issues? Turns out years of care doesn’t cure that. These kids have been raised in foster homes where the parents have biological children. That example hasn’t penetrated the lie that biological parents abandon their children. Maybe this is how foster care ends up being a generational pattern.

Praying the cycle stops with these girls. Praying their testimony will be:

We have escaped like a bird
    from the fowler’s snare;
the snare has been broken,
    and we have escaped.
 Our help is in the name of the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

Psalm 124:7-8

Living with Limits

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I work for a private fostering agency providing care for special/high needs children. Usually by the time kids enter our agency they’re older and quite damaged. My greatest frustration is that most of their “special needs” are preventable conditions. A great number have diminished mental capacity from being exposed to alcohol while in the womb. This is usually coupled with extreme neglect, trauma, abuse in their early years. Add to that moving around in and out of a broken Children’s Aid system and the end result is anything but pretty.

In five years, I’ve gotten used to a lot of things but the term “acquired brain injury” still makes me cringe. (Meaning someone did something serious enough to cause a permanent brain injury.) Often the kids themselves are cognitive enough to resent the state they’re in. Mostly they try to hold it together, navigating a world beyond their understanding. As a caregiver there are times the limitations trip me up and I fall short. Like the other day when Sabrina* was putting the canopy on our gazebo. She had it all turned around – the long end of the canopy going along the short end of the frame. My clear, simple explanation of the problem when she asked for help left her completely confused. At a loss, I walked away. Twenty minutes later Sabrina joyously informed me that she figured out the problem – the canopy was on the wrong way. “I told you that,” was my response after congratulating her. “Well, I didn’t know what you were talking about.” This is the daily grind we’re accustomed to.

Last weekend my friend’s 13yr old foster child was with me. Since the last time Natalie* visited – about three weeks ago – she’s fallen in love with India. A streetwise little spitfire her passions have been dominated, thus far, by pop stars. In the three years I’ve known her, Natalie has never expressed such sincere affection for anything or anyone. Eating dinner in a Greek restaurant, she wishes to hear some Indian music. At home I put on an animated film from India that comes up in my search of Netflix. Watching her watch it my heart breaks. I’m mourning who she could have been. Without the limitations inflicted upon her by alcohol and abuse who could she have been? If things were different, would India have played a key role in Natalie’s life?

I know God is able to bring redemption to any situation. I’m still believing for these kids to be healed mentally, physically, and emotionally. In the meantime I’m grieving the loss of what God really planned for them. This pain and frustration certainly wasn’t His intention. Most of the time my thoughts fail to extend beyond, “How can I get through this day without anyone breaking down?” I don’t think about what God really wanted when He created these kids. Today I’m painfully aware of the deposit of divine design. How do I help my kids bypass their limitations in order to unearth what God’s deposited? How can I connect Natalie to India so she can catch even a portion of God’s plan for her?

*name changed

We Belong Together

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In January 2012, after nearly a year, Sloane* and Elise* saw their birth mother. She knew about the adoption plan and was granted a farewell visit. Sloane returned to me annoyed. Trying to make sense of life, she’d started calling her birth mother by her first name.

“She made me call her mom. But I didn’t want to,” the nearly four year old said. That’s what she took away from the hour they spent together.

Elise, only two and somewhat delayed, didn’t seem to understand who the woman was. But that night, putting her to bed she let out a torrent of tears. For nearly 30mins she wailed with gut wrenching grief. I held her and cried. The entire situation is heartbreaking.

A year later, the adoption was complete. The girls were mine. Sloane was beginning to grieve the loss of her birth family. At first I dismissed her requests to see her birth mother again.

“Just one more time,” she pleaded. “I need to tell her I’m adopted. She doesn’t know my name anymore. She won’t be able to find me.”

That was the whole point of a closed adoption through Children’s Aid. I’m in contact with my daughters’ maternal birth grandmother. While visiting, she let me know their birth mother was living about 20mins away instead of 800kms as she had been the entire time the kids were in foster care. Her distance had made adoption the course taken. Had she been close by, willing to work with the system, the kids likely would have gone back to her. What will my girls think of this when they’re old enough to make some sense of it? Sloane loves me but would rather be with her birth mom. I get that. The biggest surprise in adopting is the sadness. My daughters didn’t come to me because of a selfless act – a birth mother recognizing her own limitations and choosing better for her child. We’re a family because of tragic circumstances. I sincerely mean it when I tell Sloane, “I wish life could have been different for you.” I wish her mom didn’t struggle with addictions. I wish she hadn’t run away when her kids were apprehended by Children’s Aid. I wish she’d gotten clean before, as she apparently is now. It’s too late for my girls.

Sloane’s requests didn’t dissipate. In January 2013, contacted the birth mother. She and I met at a coffee shop. Her new boyfriend came along. I gave her a scrapbook of the girls since they’d come to me as foster children nearly two years ago. She cried. Graciously, the woman thanked me for loving her kids. I explained a bit about the adoption process – not being chosen and fighting to keep them (see Adoption post). This deeply moved the boyfriend. The two were rough around the edges, typical of the downtown core they live in. I explained how hard things have been for Sloane.

“I’ll do anything to help her. I want her to be happy with you,” the woman exclaimed.

“She needs to know it’s ok for her to be adopted,” I replied.

We left with hugs and another meeting set up.

I carefully dressed Sloane the morning of the visit. She and I arrived at McDonald’s quite early. Her birth mother was late. When Sloane spotted her, she ran to my side. Her tiny hands clung to me. Very outgoing, Sloane is quick to run to anyone who looks her way. I didn’t expect this reaction. My heart melted. It’s been a hard go with Sloane. Most days I wonder if I’m anywhere near her heavily guarded heart. In that moment, I finally felt like she’d chosen me as her mom – where she goes to feel safe.

Gradually inching towards her birth mother, Sloane let her know, “I’m adopted. I have a new last name and middle names.” She recited her full name.

“That’s beautiful. I really like that name,” birth mother answered.

Sloane shared pertinent information about her life including the fact that her 17yr old foster sister recently got blond highlights. Months after she came to me, Sloane said she wanted to see her birth mom, “to tell her I live with you now. And I’m always staying with you.” This is something she didn’t express in the farewell visit organized by Children’s Aid. Though I knew legally the birth mother couldn’t take the girls, I worried in seeing her I’d lose the tentative grip I have on Sloane. Hearing my daughter’s beautiful description of her life with me, the fear diminished.

“You have a really good mom,” her birth mother repeatedly assured.

“Yeah,” Sloane agreed, smiling up at me.

Adoption

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When I was 10yr old I was reading through the book of Isaiah. That in itself is unusual. But that year I’d decided to read the entire Bible. When I came across Isaiah 54, the Lord spoke to me.

Isaiah 54:1-5

“Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor;
because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the Lord.
“Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide,
do not hold back; lengthen your cords,strengthen your stakes.
For you will spread out to the right and to the left;
your descendants will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities.

“Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.
You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.  For your Maker is your husband— the Lord Almighty is his name—
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.

 

“That will be you,” the Lord said. “You’ll adopt two children before getting married.”

My response was, “Ok!” As a child it seemed so plausible. The seed of God’s promise went deep. Since then I’ve prepared for motherhood mostly by praying. Through my teen and young adult years there were seasons of intense intercession for the woman who would carry my children into the world.

When I turned 32, the Lord said, “This year your child will be born.” Being a foster parent at that point, I anticipated a call for a new born baby. Working for a private agency specializing in care for older special needs children this was unlikely. At the beginning of September, with my foster kids back to school and no baby in sight, I sat down in the living room to cry.

“You said this year. The year’s almost over.” After venting my frustrations, I began to pray for everything to come into alignment. What I know now is that my youngest daughter would be born September 19. For reasons unknown, her birth mother suddenly came to Canada from the US a few weeks before Elise’s* birth. After being born addicted to drugs, Elise came into foster care. Sadly, it wasn’t my home she came to. And it would be 18 more months before I knew anything about her.

A chance encounter with someone I knew casually, prompted me to begin the adoption process with my local Children’s Aid. “You have to be ready,” she insisted. “Do it now.” There was such an urgency I took it as a word from the Lord.

My initial meeting with the adoption worker was dismal. She said it would be a year before I could even take the initial training. And she made it clear, since single, I wouldn’t be considered for a child under the age of six. Even knowing all about the foster care and adoption system, I’d held onto the hope of adopting young children – which for me was under the age of five. The Lord had given me several dreams and visions about my kids. They were always toddlers or babies when I saw them.

Her words didn’t line up with what I felt God saying – especially the part about doing it now. At that point I was working part-time at my church. I asked the staff to pray about the adoption process. Two days later I got a call to start training the next week. Everything was fast tracked.

While working towards approval to adopt, the Lord miraculously enabled me to buy a house. Though He’d never said it, I always imaged owning a home when I adopted. Looking for houses, I was leaning towards small. I ended up with a large four bedroom, two story home. In every way it’s so much more than I expected.

Just before moving, my adoption homestudy was completed. Three months after moving into my house, I got a call to take a 3yr old foster child. She reportedly had severe brain damage. March 30, 2011 Sloan* arrived. She walked boldly into my home and sat down at the dinning room table. She was the spitting image of me as a child. She talked a mile a minute, clearly without any brain injury. I was in love – the guarded sort of love that comes with fostering.

Her younger sister, Elise, remained in the foster home they’d come into in December. Around 6mths of age, Elise had gone back to her birth family. Nine months later she and her sister came into care. Once Sloan came to me, Elise would visit on occasion. The first time the social worker heard Elise laugh was at my home. That’s likely what prompted the woman to reunite the children despite doctor’s warnings that Sloan was a danger to Elise.

June 28, 2011 Elise moved to my home. Her transformation has been amazing (more on that in a later post).

Several friends were optimistic I’d be able to adopt the girls. I was not. It seemed impossible. There were many attempts to reunite them with birth parents. To the social worker’s great surprise nothing worked. Since Elise had been in foster care before, the pressure was on to come up with a permanency plan for these kids. Adoption became the only option. After thinking and praying about it, I told the worker I would like to adopt them. She was thrilled. “I can’t imagine a better outcome for them,” she exclaimed.

Her words sustained me as the newly assigned adoption worker asserted her authority – making it clear to the kids and I, she’d be deciding where they ended up. In July 2012, I found out another family had been selected to adopt Sloane and Elise. In the midst of absolute sorrow, something rose up in me to fight for my kids. Sloane had been pleading with the adoption worker to let her stay with me. I knew it would devastate both of them to go.

I appealed the decision. The adoption worker’s primary objection was the fact that I’m single. In August 2012, I presented my case to a panel of three seasoned women from the Ministry of Youth and Child Welfare. I won!
September 6, 2012 Sloan and Elise were “placed” with me for adoption, though they’d already been there for over a year. January 30, 2013 I received the court documents finalizing the adoption. April 28, 2013 we’re finally celebrating! It’s been a transition for all of us from foster mom & foster kids to forever mom & kids. I just turned 36 and true to His word, my daughter was born when I was 32. I got to meet her when I was 34. Everyday life continues to be challenging. Taking a moment to reflect, I’m so glad for the promise God planted in my 10yr old heart. Now that I have the promise, I can see how far from ordinary it is. That’s ok. I’ve never been all that ordinary.