For
those of you who weren't on the blogstream in June of 2006, you may not
know who Gabriel is when I mention him. It's taken me a couple of days
to process my thoughts. It's awfully quiet here right
now....................the operative word there is 'awful'ly.
It was a big deal when Gabriel came to us 14 mos. ago. First of all, we
hadn't taken a new foster placement in the six years since 2000 when my
three little girls came back into care. We had had them on and off
since infancy until they went home to live with their mother in 1995.
I did not expect them to come back when they did in 2000 but I was
happy when they did. We adopted them in 2002. They were 9, 10, and 11
when they came back.......they are 16, 17, and 18 now.
We had been throwing the idea around, for several years, of letting our
certification go and not taking any more children, but every time the
county called for the recert appointment, or the end of the year was
coming and we weren't current with our trainings to stay at Level II,
we would scurry around to get all of our paperwork up to date.
People ask me all the time how we manage to do foster care. How we
manage to take in someone else's child, let ourselves love them, and
then have to let them go. They say things like, "I could never do
that. I could never give them up. It would be too hard". I tell them
that life is hard. All of life is hard. I tell them that if the good
people.......the people who are able parents and who know how to love,
aren't willing to take in the children of the world who need
them......just because it is hard...........who is going to do it?
Who? SOMEbody needs to do it. No one has the right to complain about
the next generation of kids who are coming up if they are unwilling to
do anything to make it better. Foster care is the 'grass roots' level
of making it better. Before anyone complains about the horrible foster
care system, and about some foster parent they knew who abused the
children who were in their care, please tell me what you would do
differently. People are people. There are good ones and there are bad
ones. We're all just a bunch of sinners. Some people just know how to
cover it up better than others. It has been my experience that the
county (who is made up of people who are just people too) does the best
they can to weed out the truly bad people who try to get into the
system. Both Sherry and Mr. Ornery have been caseworkers in "the
system".......I'm sure they would verify what I'm saying.
Being a foster parent is a funny "profession", if you want to call it
that. I told someone once that it's kind of like being a doctor.
Like, if you were a doctor, and someone on the side of the road was
bleeding, and you knew what to do to help them then you would, right?
That's really what it's like when you get a phone call asking you to
take in a child who needs a home. You know you have something to
offer, you know you can do it, and the thought of saying no just
doesn't occur to you.
The county generally doesn't give you the weekend to think about it,
like they did with Gabriel. They only did that because he was already
in an emergency foster home and was not in any imminent danger. If you
take a child directly from their biological home they usually tell you
that you have to make up your mind right now and if you say yes then
they say, " Great! We'll be there in 1/2 an hour!" If you are taking
in more than one (we've been given sibling groups of three more times
than I can count) then the scrambling around to change beds, add extra
chairs at the table and make double the amount for dinner takes on a
real urgency.
We definitely had reservations about taking in a small baby but take
him in we did. I recorded all of it on the blog for weeks. I've
deleted all of the posts now, but I wrote things like, "WHAT THE HECK
ARE WE DOING???" and "I'M 50FREAKIN4 YEARS OLD.............AM I
NUTS?????". All of you came over and blessed me. You told me to go
with my heart. You prayed for me. You loved me through a very tough
decision and through some very hard times. When we took in Gabriel's
mom in the winter and I wrote about some of the struggles, again you
guys came through for me. I may have deleted my other blog that I was
writing but I will never forget the things you said during that time.
All of you were such an encouragment to me. Now that he's gone you
continue to be my soft cushion to rest on.
We got Gabriel early in the afternoon on a Monday. He was, by far, the
most emotionally messed up baby I had ever met and that's saying alot
considering that I've spent my adult life eating, drinking and
breathing babies. He would hold his arms out to everyone in the most
adorable fashion, but after holding him for less than a minute he would
hold his hands out to the next person in the room. Because there had
to be about six or seven people in the room when he first came in the
door, it was like playing musical chairs. I had never seen anything
like it. Most children have a natural "stranger danger" awareness.
Not Gabriel. In foster care it is called "reactive attachment
disorder". I've never seen a case worse than Gabriel's in that age
child.
Besides that, as I found out later, he was born addicted to crack
cocaine. He had spent the first forty days of his life in withdrawl.
He weighed two pounds at birth.
Each one of you...........right now........put out your hand. That's about how big he was. I saw the pictures. He was all eyes.
When we got Gabriel, he was taking phenobarbitol twice a day. I had
never dealt with anything like that. I bet ValAnne knows exactly what
I'm talking about though. It has alcohol in it. It did things to his
mind and his personality that I didn't like. Supposedly he was taking
it for seizures. In the entire 14 mos. that he was with us I NEVER saw
ANYTHING that even REMOTELY resembled a seizure. Someone told me that
the mom wanted him on it for reasons of her own. I shall refrain from
saying any more than that.
I didn't know if it was a rumor or not but I took him to the doctor and
complained that I didn't think Gabriel needed this medication.
Miraculously, the doctor said that he would take my word for it, but
that I should bring him back if he has any sign of a seizure. I weaned
him off the medication and that was the beginning of the real and truly
awesome Gabriel that we came to know, emerging from the temper tantrum
fog he was in.
Before we set him up with Early Intervention Services I taught him sign
language. His first major frustration was that at 15 mo. he wanted to
communicate in some fashion but couldn't talk. The temper tantrums
were not just daily. They were hourly. Minutely. Secondly. I taught
him "more" and "eat" and "please". He also learned "thank you", "love"
and a few more. Before long he didn't need the sign language anymore.
He would make the sign and say "tank uuuu" at the same time. You have
NO idea how excited POH would get when THAT happened. I would grab his
adorable little face in both of my hands and kiss him all over. He
probably liked the cookie better but at least he received my affection
and smiled back at me!
Early Intervention sent a speech teacher and a physical therapy
teacher. He LOVED those times with "tee-ter" as he came to call both
of them. At two he was tested and was above age level in all areas.
It was sad that he couldn't have "tee-ter" come to the house anymore
though, he so looked forward to it.
Gabriel was a true lake baby. When we pulled up to the lakehouse he
would try to wriggle out of his carseat.............."boat.......boat!"
he said. We have a slow moving freight train that runs right behind
the house on the other side of the driveway and up the hill. When the
train would go by he would run to the
window.........."trayn,trayyyyyyn!" he would explode, the words coming
out as one.
He didn't love anything more than the boat though. He didn't care
whether it was the party boat, the rowboat, or the
paddleboat.........the water seemed to have a major soothing effect on
him. When Mr. Hope and I would go out for our evening exercise on the
paddleboat he would wait patiently for us to get it ready and never
complained when he had to wear a big, bulky life jacket. If we went
out on the party boat and he hadn't had a nap that day he would either
fall asleep, or come very close. The only thing that would bring him
out of his trance was watching the kids tubing behind the boat. Then
he would laugh and laugh and laugh.
We talked about "if we ever adopted" and what the ramifications of that
would be. We knew that it was not likely but it didn't stop me from
considering what it would be like to raise another teenager in my
sixties. In spite of knowing that we probably would not be given that
opportunity, we didn't hold back with Gabriel. We lavished on him. He
was an affectionate child and we gave him as much as he could handle.
I knew from the beginning that teaching or allowing him to call us
"Mommy and Daddy" didn't feel right. Not when he is the same age as
two of my grandchildren. We taught him to call us Nana and Papa.
Sometimes he called me Connie, when he heard other people calling me
that. Sometimes he called me Mama................and it tugged at my
heart. I always responded and never corrected him then but continued
to refer to myself as Nana.
We have spent time with Gabriel's Aunt and Uncle with whom he is now
living. They are good people. Very good people. They don't have alot
to offer Gabriel in the way of material goods, but they love him. They
really do love him. I told them that we would like to continue to be
Nana and Papa to Gabriel. They were thrilled. I have access to free
clothes and food. I told them about that. They are grateful.
Life is uncertain. Who is to say that life with us would be better
than life with them...........or vice versa? We will stay in Gabriel's
life. We have parented other people's children...............we can
grandparent other people's children too, can't we?
They are coming out to the lake, with Gabriel and with their other
three children, the first week of September. Assuming that the weather
is good we will take the boat out. Gabriel will like that, won't he?
I hope a train goes by that day.
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