When does the hurt become irreparable?

Almost two years ago two children were placed with what were to be permanent caregivers. Against my strong advice to social workers that these two children would not manage together. 

Instead of supporting the caregivers ... The social work team left them to flounder under extreme behaviours. When it was offered to continue caring for one child... This option was taken from them completely. I did all I could to help... But ultimately I couldn't do more. It hurt. 

For a temporary placement the kids were seperated. Things went wonderfully. Then the social workers decided to put them back together. There were a number of reasons I didn't feel the placement would be successful. But again... I was forced to sit upon these thoughts. And when I tried to raise them (to ensure family number two was supported) I was told that the social workers are the ones with the experience and qualifications... 'You are just a caregiver'. So I stepped back. 

I regularly offered support for these children and was declined. For the boy, the permanent placement ended earlier this year. His family gave up. He was too hard. Just this week it ended for miss as well. 

Although I am delighted to have this wonderful young lady back with me... (And that the social workers were brave enough to let me have her back despite them probably expecting me to say 'told you so') I am heartbroken for her. Another permanent home broken. I fear the damage is irreparable. I remember when she was moving to her last home I said to the social worker 'this has to be her last... She can't take any more'. I was assured it was her last. I just hope I was wrong. I hope she can take more! I hope this hasn't broken her beyond repair. 

There is a young girl hurting so bad that she shows no emotion about what has happened at all. She sees what has happened as just another experience to put on the list. 

I have no idea what the future holds. I can't commit to anything for her due to several other complications. However what I need to focus on now is making sure this kid is not hurt beyond repair. That she finds her way home. Wherever home is. 

It made a difference to that one

When I embarked on the journey that is foster parenting I expected it to be hard. I expected that kids would come to me with some level of trauma. That I would be tasked with provide love, guidance and stability. I also knew that it would be riddled with heartbreak... But I chose the journey... And I choose to continue it. 

Throughout the Journey I have learnt a lot. I have a pretty clear idea about how the legal system works in relation to children's rights and care of children. I have learnt how social workers work, how cases are pieced together. I have learnt the ways that behaviour reflects internal thinking. I have learnt that physical age is not necessarily emotional, social, sexual or academic age. I have learnt how to cater the needs of a child that has a different age for each facet of their being. 

What I did not count on, was my international student. A guest of my foster child, becoming what I now think of as the very reason I have learnt all I have. I took on an international student... The easy one, the one that comes from a supportive family, is educationally focussed with huge carer aspirations. One that wasn't filled with trauma in such a way that it could bubble over at anytime. 

But by what can only be divine intervention... She applied to the school to become an international student at the same time I applied to become a host parent. For five months... My 'idea' of an international student remained what I had always pictured it to be. Idealistic, the perfect child! Then the earth shattered around me. 

The young girl I had accepted as part of my family became a mum. Over the coming six months I had to use every skill I had learnt in order to keep her safe. I had to jump through legal hoops, I had to spend hours researching, I had to reevaluate the everything I knew about the world. 

I sat through and translated numerous psychologist, doctor, lawyer, government, and social work meetings. I had to, more than once, put myself in dangers way. I had to be very careful which parts of the story I shared with whom. Some of the people closest to me I couldn't even share details with. 

Some of the details I couldn't share as legal cases sat right on top of them include things like an international embassy threatening miss 16, miss 0 and myself. Like a school right here in my own country treating a child in a way I wouldn't even treat a rodent. I watched basic human rights be broken right before my very eyes. 

Yes... I agree... I think she was lucky to be placed with me... I think that I was the best person for the job of protecting her. But the bit I'd like to clear up is this... No one else would have given up months ago (like lots of people suggest... Making me out to be some sort of life saving hero)... No one else quite had the insight I had into the extreme danger that was probable. No one else had seen with their own eyes the physical threats, or heard with their own ears the emotional threats. I can assure you of this... ANYONE who had seen what I saw...would have done the same thing. 

I'm not saying I'm not proud... Because I am. I took on a mammoth responsibility that at times was all consuming. What I am saying is that for quite a few years  I was learning the skills I needed so that I had them, I was placed in this life to protect it, and the job was done. 

That's the most important bit. The job was done. The girls have refugee status, they can remain here forever. There is a 20 page document from refugee services outlining the dangers miss would be in, and a ten page psychologist report outlining the danger she has already been in. 

My girl is no longer my international student, she is my child. And every day I get to hold her beautiful daughter in my arms and see her eyes light up when I enter the room. Cos that's what love is, right?

But no... Kind and concerned people in my life. This isn't the end of the journey for me. I know I can do it now. My fostering count is sitting around the 20. There have been others while this saga has unfolded I just haven't had the energy to blog. I will keep doing it...and instead of asking me why... Remember this .... It made a difference to that one. 

 Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing.He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions. 

Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching.  As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea.  The boy came closer still and the man called out, “Good morning!  May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves,” the youth replied. “When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”

The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”

The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”

How to help.

I won't keep this page up here forever...because it does link to my name.  But for those of you who currently follow... we really need your help.  When you've asked how to help and I have said - I can't think of anything - it's because I don't want to ask you for $2557!  But I am hoping this way everyone who wants to help can do a little bit and help us get this bill paid off.  Thank you XX


https://givealittle.co.nz/cause/keepingourgirlssafe#

So what are we waiting for?

WARNING: Contains graphic content




Life is a bit on hold.  While we get used to the idea of having a baby in the house, there is a whole other situation unfolding.

The school Miss 15 attended breaking several laws is only the beginning.  The other is the severe risk to her should she return to her home country.

The cold hard reality is that she will be killed or tortured and put into prision (for having a baby).  Her baby will be killed (due to the genocide of melanesians).

Due to this we are aiming to gain refugee status for the girls.  This is hard, because she is under age and it would cause irreparable damage to her family if they were to come and support the application. So things are slow.  Lawyers need to seek advice from lawyers.  Immigration need to seek advice from the united nations.

The process, by normal timeframes, should have been completed 6 weeks ago.  And although the lawyer says our case is very, very strong.  It is still a waiting game.  Because you just don't know what is around the corner.

A lot of people have asked "What the?" because they don't really understand what is going on there.

Information is hard to find because of a media ban (As usually happens in countries with war going on!) but there is some information that comes out various places via a facebook page that their government has no control over.

https://www.facebook.com/freewestpapua/

Here you will read of torture, rape, genocide and corrupt police and military.  You will see very easily why we are scared for Miss 15 to return home with Miss nearly 4 months!

On a happier note Miss 15 is now Miss 16 :)

Our Surprise. Or...shock... or What the actual hell just happened?

We didn’t believe what was happening.

After a day of chocolate on Sunday, when Miss 15 complained of a sore tummy around 10am on Easter Monday.  I told her she had eaten too much junk.  When she told me she had been in pain since 3, I started to suspect a bug.  When she asked me to take her to the doctor, I hesitated.  At near $300 for a non citizen, public holiday, visit – I was going to hold it off as long as possible.  I called a friend, a bit more in the know than myself.  Panadol? Has she had any Panadol.  No.  So she took some Panadol, and I told her if she wasn’t right in a few hours we’d find a doctor.

Miss 15 persisted. I need to see a doctor, I am in a lot of pain.  Okay. I figured if it was bad enough she wanted to pay nearly $300.  It was bad enough to see a doctor.  We went to our local after hours, and were told after seeing the triage nurse that there was a three hour wait – but in the meantime could she do a urine test. On returning from doing the test she told me that there was blood in her urine. What does that mean? Only moments after returning the test, the nurses asked for her to come through immediately.  My previous thoughts of appendicitis changed to a bladder infection.  The weight was off my shoulders.  A bladder infection is much more manageable.

After a good half an hour the doctor called me through.  Permission had been given from Miss 15 to discuss the details with me, due to her lack of understanding.  “Is there any chance she could be pregnant?” Asked the doctor.  I replied “No.  She isn’t that sort of girl.  If she says there is no chance, there is no chance”.  “In that case” he said “We need to make an immediate referral to oncology.  Are you able to drive her to the Emergency Department.” “Umm. Yup” I say, but thinking ‘what the hell, cancer, you must be joking, she is 15’. 

We arrived at the ED half an hour later, stopping for McDonalds on the way.  If you’re about to get admitted into hospital for cancer treatment – you might as well get a treat before you arrive!  Thankfully, we stopped for some food.  As it was another 3 or 4 hours until we were seen by the doctor again there was plenty of time to google.  I had read the referral forms which stated “positive pregnancy test, no pregnancy, abdominal swelling, refer oncology”.

The more I read online, the more I started to wonder.  The only other way I could find to have a positive pregnancy test was cancer.  The form of cancer that could cause a positive pregnancy test was incredibly rare.  She either has a rare cancer or a baby.  I sat there juggling in my mind which one would be easier to manage.  Miss 15’s current status meant that having a baby would be incredibly dangerous for both her and a baby. I don’t mean the birth either.  Cancer can be cured. 

As the hours ticked on, and the pains became more intense and more frequent there was a little bit of wonder creeping into my mind about that the chances of pregnancy. So that conversation was had again – in more detail.  No.  There has definitely been nothing happen that could cause that.  We were later to find out, “nothing that I remember” to cause that.

We were finally called in by an ED doctor, who said they were going to do a quick ultrasound before making any further decisions about the rest of the night.  A few moments into the ultrasound, the doctor looked at me and said “I’ll be back in a moment” she returned with another doctor.  A specialist.  They did the ultrasound together, the second doctor left and the first said “There is a baby in there, we don’t know what stage of the pregnancy this is, you could be experiencing Braxton hicks.  But we need to send you to the delivery suite regardless, you need a full examination.”

I was in shock. Miss 15 was in shock.  My mind was racing, what do we need, where do we get it from, how do we keep them safe.  I’m sure her mind was racing too, probably in a different way to mine.  I text a friend and asked her to meet us in the delivery suite.  I made some quick calls to make sure the other children were sorted for the night (they were already at friend’s houses so was not too hard).  I quickly sought support from my support people. 

We had a lovely midwife, Katie, who was incredibly reassuring when she told us “There will be a baby here, and tonight”.  She talked us through what would happen – seeing as none of us (my friend was there by that stage) have ever had a baby.  She then began to ask questions about the conception.  Concerns then flung into overdrive.  Something had happened.  We now had massive concerns for the care and protection of both Miss 15 and her baby. 

Baby was monitored intently, and as Miss 15 became more and more anxious we became thankful that the birth was going to be over with fairly soon.  At 10.50pm we welcomed a baby girl into our little world.  She weighed just over 6 pounds.  The NICU team on standby were stood down and we were told she was healthy.  No sigh of relief was heard, this was only the start of an uphill battle.  But for one day, we had been through enough.  The day was over, we had another girl to love.  No sleep was had (by me anyway…the new mum slept extremely well) as I arranged bassinets, carseats, clothes.  So much to plan when a baby suddenly arrives.  

It has been all guns firing.

It has been an incredibly long time since I updated here! A few months, but there is good reason!

That's because I have been so incredibly busy with everything, that I haven't had time!  This morning, I make time.  I had to get up early and make sure things were spick and span for a landlord visit - which means that I am just a little too tired to get started on work!

Mr 13 and Miss 9 are still here.  Only for another two weeks though...well, a little less now.  They will be moving on the 8th of July to their new home.  It could well be their forever home, however - their mum still has some opportunity to make things right.  Experience tells me this won't happen - but we still have to give them a chance - because the kids deserve that.  Nevertheless, the home they are going to they want to go to.  Such a rare move for kids in care.  They have pretty much picked their next placement - and the caregivers to be have applied, trained and been accepted as caregivers.
So a quick update on those two - since they won't be with me much longer.
Miss 9 is struggling with some basics - hoarding, lying and aggravating others.  However, these behaviors are not extreme nor are they affecting her day to day life, or that of others.  They are just typical "I've been through crap" behaviors, that seek attention and love from others.  She continues to do well at school, and has a good little group of friends.  She seems to have trouble sustaining friendships, but having moved schools so often - it's probably the longest she has had to sustain a friendship.

Mr 13 loves school. Unfortunately, a little too much.  He has become a bit of a class clown, and the teachers all note that he is a little too social, and a little too unfocused.  I believe he will get this under control - he has big goals for his life, and I do doubt he'll be the typical 13 year old boy for long.  He continues to deceive with technology - and I am constantly discovering new ways he has been accessing the internet.  On the other hand, his  behavior at home has improved tenfold.  He does little to annoy his sister, helps out often and uses his manners all of the time.  He is like a different kid!  Now just to get those boundaries sorted at school as well!

Moving on to Miss 14 - Permanent lass.  She has been doing extremely well at school, but pushing the boundaries at home.  Pretty much exactly the types of behaviors we were told she would display once things were permanent.  Arguing, manipulating, trying to use her past to get her own way.  She is learning to think before she speaks, but hasn't really mastered the skill yet.  She has had a few set backs lately - the consistency in her life has been disrupted.  As you'll see when I discuss Miss 15! She has never coped well with change, so it's no surprise that she isn't coping well now. Not to mention that she is not the centre of attention - which is her number one goal in life! On a whole she is blimming hard work.  But just gotta hang in there and hope she pops out the other side soon!

Miss 15 - well that's where the story really begins.  Over Easter weekend, she got a very sore tummy.  Too much chocolate perhaps?  So after her saying that it was really bad and she needed to see a doctor - I took her to after hours.  While we were there other symptoms appeared.  We were re-directed to the emergency room.  After a number of tests....we discovered she was in labour.  Yup. A baby.  This was no "too much chocolate" or bladder infection.  This was a real, live, human baby - only a couple of hours from entering our lives! I will make a separate post at some stage about how the events of that day unfolded.  However, what is crucial here is the lack of support she received from those legally responsible for her.  Within hours I was told I wasn't to be around anymore, that they would "deal with the situation from here". A part of the dealing with the situation was to return her to her family.  Her family are not a danger - but those in her immediate environment are.  There are NO doubts at all that the conception was not consensual.  And there are no doubts at all that the baby will be killed should she be returned to her home land.  Thankfully, we were able to get lawyers involved before the situation became dire, and they were able to keep the girls in my care.  From here we have made an application to have her accepted as a refugee - in order to keep her safe.  We are yet to hear if that is successful, but we will keep at it - no matter what we have to do.

Miss 15 had a slow start to becoming a mother, but is slowly getting the hang of things. She has formed a good bond with the baby - and the two of them are doing extremely well considering.  Don't get me wrong - there is still a lot of work to do.  But things have started well. Miss 13 weeks has met all of her milestones (or surpassed them) and babbles away quite deliciously.

Once Miss 9 and Mr 13 have moved on in two weeks, I'll either get more time to blog - or I won't have much to blog about.   From there I will be putting a hold on our availability for foster care.  To enable Miss 14 to settle into her changes, and to help Miss 15 become the mum she needs to be.  To focus on the refugee application, and to ensure Miss baby gets all the nuturing and love she needs at this crucial stage of her development.  At this stage the hold is for one school term, then things will be reevaluated. We'll see where other things are at!

When the system fails

Do you remember this post?
http://fosteringkidsinnz.blogspot.co.nz/2015/06/the-best-interests-of-child.html

I made it in June last year.  I expressed my thoughts extensively to the social work agency.  I expressed so strongly that I knew it wasn't going to work.  I feared for the combination of the two children.  Yet here I am.  Not even 12 months later.  Angry. So angry.

I brought home with me last night Mr 7, just for the night.  He was Mr 6 last time I wrote about him.  We haven't been allowed to see him since he moved to the caregivers him and Miss 8 were placed with in June last year.  Their religious differences left us shut out, the children homeschooled, and connections with their past lost. I want to say I told you so. I want to scream and yell and put the agency to shame.

I told them time and time and time again that the placement wouldn't work. That it would only be a matter of time until they were seeking out emergency care once again.  Only a matter of time until they realised for themselves that any of these siblings placed in the same house hold was a disaster waiting to happen.  They told me it wouldn't - they had fully interviewed the new parents and there were 100% confident it would work out.

It happened. Of course it happened.  Part of me feels a sense of wisdom, a little bit of narcissistic "I was right, you were wrong. I hate you" but the overwhelming feeling is one of absolute pain for this poor soul.

When he was dropped off to me on Friday night he ran to me and hugged. And held on.  And held on.  There was a scared and sad little boy who said to me "they quit on me too" followed by "no one wants me, do they? I am a bad person, aren't I?"  It took all of my power to look into those big brown eyes and say "there is a way bigger story behind this that is too hard to explain, but lots of people want you and love you, they just aren't the best people for you" It takes all the willpower in the world not to make a promise I can't keep.  I can't promise that the next home will be his forever home. I can't promise that he will be allowed to come and visit me often.  I can't even wrap him in my arms and say "I want you, come live with me" because, and I maintain, it is not in the best interests of the children.

But why am I the only person looking out for the best interests of these children? Why aren't the social workers getting this bit right.  How hard is it to see there is a broken little boy who in less than two years has been in at least 8 homes??? Can't they see what they're setting this boy up for.

http://www.radionz.co.nz/news/national/282623/'staggering-link'-between-cyf-care-and-crime

I just want him to find a forever home.  A home where he can be loved and loved and loved.  Where there are no other little children around that make his issues near impossible to cope with.  Where I will still get to see him. Where I can take his big sister to see him.  Where he will be with a family that is basically an extension of ours.  Why is that too big to ask?