I’ve stopped and restarted this blog entry so many times I’ve
given up trying to keep count.
If you’re playing the home game, then you know that my
husband and I found ourselves facing a big question mark when coming face to
face with IVF. Neither of us felt 100% confident about spending the money on a
gamble, and we knew we wanted to explore our options before we made a commitment.
So, we attended an adoption information meeting hosted by
the DFPS (CPS). It was relatively short, and talked about a lot of the perks of
adoption (kiddos getting their college paid for, the state paying for almost
all of your costs, including the adoption class, background checks and
certifications, etc). The meeting only lasted an hour or so and was followed by
a question and answer period. It was, most certainly, a DFPS adoption sales
pitch.
We were interested, but we still weren’t sold. We filled out
our forms, mailed them in, and were contacted by a representative. We (I)
explained that we weren’t sure if we wanted to move forward with adoption, but
that we definitely wanted more information.
The woman I spoke with was very understanding and said many
couples start out feeling that way. She encouraged us to go through the PRIDE
class. If, at the end of it, we wanted to get certified, we could move forward
with it. And even then, certification did not mean that we had to take kiddos
if we weren’t ready. Basically, it was billed as a very flexible program. We
could complete the course work, get our certification, and then go from there.
So, we decided to go ahead and take the class and get
certified. The next class didn’t start until the end of May, and went for four
Saturdays from 9am-4pm. After a year
with infertility treatments, a month didn’t seem like much of a wait, and so we
did.
At our first class, we found out that things were not
exactly as we had been led to believe. The certification was not really a
separate process from the class, and, at the end of our four week course, we
were expected to have our home study and get certified.
We left the first class feeling overwhelmed at all we would
have to do, but optimistic that we could get it done. Mike went out the next
day and bought us the smoke detectors and outlet plugs we needed, and I started
the process of tracking down a bed. You see, not only did our home have to pass
the state’s code, like having a smoke detector in all bedrooms, having a fire
escape plan posted in our home, storing ALL medicine (including OTC stuff like Tylenol
and vitamins) in a locked cabinet, we also had to be 100% ready to have kids
moved in. This meant beds made (including a crib because we wanted to be
certified for an infant as well), towels and toothbrushes in the bathroom, toys
and clothes in the rooms, everything.
It was scary to know that from the end of our first class,
we had 3 weeks to transform our house from a place where a young married couple
lived to a home for children ranging in age from 0-12. I felt some unease in
it, but I knew that we had made a decision – we would finish the class and then
go from there.
I just couldn't quiet the voice in the back of my head that
wondered why we were only being given 3 weeks to get our home child ready if we
would have the luxury to take our time once we were certified.
But, we kept moving forward, determined to get certified so
we could have a chance to breathe.
It was during our second class that red flags really started
waving. We had been told several times during our two classes (and while it
seems silly to think that we learned a lot in only two classes, remember that
at that point we were halfway through our certification classes…after only two
weeks!) that we would only be certified for what they called level 1 cases. Our
trainer explained that this meant we would only be getting kiddos that had been
through mild trauma, and not the kind of stuff you read about in the paper.
Most of us took comfort in that, being wholly unprepared for
the possibility of taking in kiddos that needed intense help (the kind we were
not being trained to give). However,
there were clues that this would not exactly be the case. For example, their
typical explanation of placement was something along the lines of “Johnny is in
school. His teacher notices something is wrong and calls CPS. After doing a
quick investigation, Johnny is sent to foster care and is placed that day in your
house. Johnny was not allowed to go home from school, so he will arrive at your
house with nothing more than he brought to school with him that day.”
So, pause button. How do we know what kind of trauma Johnny
has been experiencing at home if he has only been picked up that day-- really,
only a few hours before? How can the state ensure that they are not placing a
violent or dangerous child in my home? And yes, I know that there are homes that
are specifically certified to take on kiddos who are a danger to themselves or
others, however, weren’t those kiddos most likely sent to a normal foster/adopt
home first (a thought our trainer later, reluctantly, confirmed. “Oh, if you
have problems, just give little Johnny’s caseworker a call and (s)he will have
someone come pick little Johnny up and move him to a different foster home).
Then we were told later, in another conversation/lesson, that often times
kiddos that are dangerous to themselves/others have a hard time finding
certified foster homes, so there is a good chance they will either have to stay
in non-certified homes until an appropriate home can be found (obviously there
was no comment on how long that could be) or, if we were just completely unable
to help this poor child (yes, heavy on the guilt tripping) they would have to
be sent to a resource treatment facility.
Any of this unnerving to any of you?
Then we started some minor role playing. As in, what would
you do in this situation? Again, another time a red flag shot up for me. The
scenario is that you’re in the kitchen and little Johnny is hanging out in the
yard. You look through the kitchen window and see that your beloved dog
snookums, who was running and playing with little Johnny a little while ago, is
now tied to the back fence. Wondering if something happened, you head outside,
only to find little Johnny has a pile of rocks and is hurling them at the tied
up Snookums. What do you do? One woman in our class said that she would sit
down and talk with little Johnny about how it isn’t nice to hurt poor little
Snookums, and that she loves the puppy, so little Johnny should love him, too!
Our trainer praised the woman who came up with that answer, saying that it was
right out of the textbook.
Um. No?
I’m pretty sure that abusing a defenseless animal (and I’m
not a big animal lover over here, but this freaks out even me) is not a minor
problem. If little Johnny is in a bad mood and he kicks Snookums or shoves him
off the couch, yeah I would be upset and have a conversation with him and
likely ground him. However, little Johnny going out of his way to tie up
Snookums and then abuse him is a major red flag, one DFPS didn’t seem at all
concerned with.
So, that also had me a bit concerned about the types of
kiddos who would be placed with us.
The final red flag came towards the end of day two.
We were talking about the state’s no physical discipline
policy, which I’m kind of whatever about because it seems so obvious. Briefly,
it says that you cannot use corporal punishment on your kiddos. I can
understand the reasoning behind it. I don’t think it is right to spank a kid
that came from an abusive household. It makes sense to me.
However, there was some fine print in that policy that I did
take issue with. Namely, that physical punishment also included restraining.
When pressed for details, our trainer explained that it meant, for example, if
you told a child to go to their room or time out and they refused, you were not
allowed to take them by the hand or arm and walk them to their room (this is
called escorting). I didn’t really see that as being a problem or abusive in
any way, but I continued to listen, a bit of unease growing in my mind.
She went on to explain that it also meant that you could not
restrain the child in the traditional sense, either.
Now, already having all these concerns about the types of
kiddos who are going to be in my home pinging around in my head, I asked for
some specifics. What if the child is harming another of my kiddos (like his/her sibling). Am I allowed to grab
the child’s hands or hug his arms to prevent him/her from harming the other
child?
No. Under no circumstances.
What if I foster an older child and he is physically
stronger than I am and starts harming me. Am I allowed to restrain him or push
him off of me?
No.
What if the child has autism (just for example. I have a
niece with autism, and we were considering adopting kiddos with autism) and the
child’s therapist recommends holding them as part of therapy. Is that type of
holding (called therapeutic holding) allowed if under the order of a licensed
child psychologist?
No.
Again, what if we are placed with a special needs child who
is self harming, like banging his/her head against a wall or hitting him or
herself? Am I allowed to keep the child from hurting him or herself?
No.
Not only is the answer no, but the children will be informed
of this before they ever come to my home. The child will have a caseworker who
makes monthly visits, and we will have a worker who will make visits every
other month. Both of these workers will interview the children to make sure
these types of behaviors are not happened, and if they are, the kids will be
removed from our home and our license will be revoked.
Excuse me?
So I’m not allowed to prevent a child from hurting me, other
kids in my home, or him or herself. I’m not allowed to hold the child as part
of therapy, and I’m not allowed to take the child be the hand or wrist and walk
them away from a volatile situation.
Is hugging allowed? (yes my husband asked that) The trainer
laughed off the question and said of course. I could understand his concern.
All of this really
bothered me. I left the second class feeling really confused, like the state
was either setting us up for failure, or trying to rush us through the system
(thus the two weeks until we were certified) before we noticed these red flags.
I started talking to everyone about my concerns. And every. Single.
Time. The answer was the same –“there’s something about that that doesn’t sit
quite right with me.”
Finally, I talked to my mom and she told me a tale that pretty much confirmed a lot of the things I was worried about.
Her best friend growing up was unable to have kiddos. She
and her husband adopted a son, and even though he had a lot of problems (I
believe he suffered from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) when he graduated high school,
they decided they were ready to adopt again.
So, they went through PRIDE again and got certified to
foster/adopt. They, like us, said they wanted a little time after
their certification went through to get their house (and themselves I believe)
ready to accept kiddos. However, the week their license cleared, DFPS called
and asked them to take in a sibling group – of 6.
My mom’s friend was reluctant, but she agreed. Two weeks
later they called back and asked her to take 2 more, even though she could
legally only have 6 in her home. Well, about that time the 6 kids were moved
anyway, and the two new kiddos moved in. These were also siblings, a boy and a
girl.
Every time the boy would disagree with something my mom’s
friend or her husband said, he would call 911 and report that they were “physically
restraining him” and “beating him.” Now, this was a couple who had been through
the system before. They had already raised one son from foster care. They knew
the rules. And still they had to spend months fighting to keep their license because of a kid who lied because he wanted to go back home.
I talked to my husband about everything that was bothering
me, and he agreed. Something just wasn't right. We felt like we were being
forced into something that should have been our decision. We felt like we got
into this for more information, and instead we were being rushed through. We
felt like we were being told one thing, but being prepared to deal with
another.
So, we decided that we were not going to finish the PRIDE
course or get certified – a decision that we did not make lightly. Here we are
2 weeks later and, while we feel like we made the right decision for us, we
still feel unhappy about in a lot of ways.
We decided that, in the future, if we go through it again,
we’re going to take the 8 week course and really try to digest what they’re
saying, ask a ton of questions, and try to root out where our problems come
from and if they’re resolvable. We hope that, if we want to move forward with
foster/adoption in the future, taking the class slower and having time to really
prepare ourselves, as opposed to going into it simply looking for more info,
will help us to get the most out of the program.
And that’s still not guaranteeing that we won’t have the
same hesitations that we’re having now.
So, after all of that, where do we stand?
On rather shaky ground, it seems.
My sweet husband and I decided we would take the summer off
from everything baby related – adoption, IVF, infertility, everything!
It just so happened that I needed to talk to my doctor about
something, so I called the office. When the nurse called me back, we talked
about my question and exchanged pleasantries. Towards the end of the
conversation she dropped a bombshell on me.
The office is closing.
As in permanently.
As in effective at the end of summer.
Meaning that if we decide to resume infertility care after
the summer, we will have to do it somewhere else. Which means new doctors and
nurses and procedures and re-doing many of our tests. It means starting over.
I found out a few weeks ago, and I’m still shell shocked.
So, I’m really not sure where we go from here. I guess we
shoulder on, find a new doctor, and try again. There’s just something about
knowing we have to start over that makes me feel weary (even if it makes me
feel slightly hopeful that a new doctor might find something my first doctor
overlooked, or have a new therapy that my doctor didn't know).
I know we have a couple months, but in the fall it looks
like we’re back at square one.
As always, thanks for the gift, infertility.
