Visits with the aunt were starting.
The very fist visit was at the Children Services building.
Z baby cried when she had to leave me
And I cried the whole way home.
We asked for updates and nothing.
No calls, no emails, no texts and no more monthly visits.
We last time we saw our worker was in August just before the TPR meeting and that would be the last time she visited Z in our home.
I eventually was told the case was going to kinship, but not from a caseworker, or the GAL or literally anyone else on the effing team that makes decisions, but another foster parent.
We didn't know what to do, we were losing our baby and we did what any parent losing their baby would do, we lost our shit. And we lost it hard. And email was typed up and sent. That email, where we put everything out there. With the main idea of "how will Z be protected?"
That email caused us to be the bad guys. Another fun foster care fact. You are supposed to advocate for the child in your care but if you dare do that, they will use that child to get you to shut your mouth. We were called manipulative and a whole other slew of crap.
After that first visit at Children Services visits started at the aunt's new house. She again started throwing up after these visits. I reached out to the GAL, with no help in return. For the record I freaking dislike GALs, they are terrible. These people are supposed to come out before every court hearing, we saw Z's once. ONCE. Court happened way more than once.
On November 22nd at 5:30 pm is when we were officially told she would be leaving our house. Guess what day. The very next day. So at 10am on November 23rd I said good bye to a little two year old girl that was not mine in any sense that matters to anyone else, but to us, she belonged with us. We were here home. Our home was hers. Her mess was ours.
And now I knew I had to do the hard hard hard job of mourning the loss of a child that was still very much alive. Alive and only an hour away from me. How would I survive........
The very fist visit was at the Children Services building.
Z baby cried when she had to leave me
And I cried the whole way home.
We asked for updates and nothing.
No calls, no emails, no texts and no more monthly visits.
We last time we saw our worker was in August just before the TPR meeting and that would be the last time she visited Z in our home.
I eventually was told the case was going to kinship, but not from a caseworker, or the GAL or literally anyone else on the effing team that makes decisions, but another foster parent.
We didn't know what to do, we were losing our baby and we did what any parent losing their baby would do, we lost our shit. And we lost it hard. And email was typed up and sent. That email, where we put everything out there. With the main idea of "how will Z be protected?"
That email caused us to be the bad guys. Another fun foster care fact. You are supposed to advocate for the child in your care but if you dare do that, they will use that child to get you to shut your mouth. We were called manipulative and a whole other slew of crap.
After that first visit at Children Services visits started at the aunt's new house. She again started throwing up after these visits. I reached out to the GAL, with no help in return. For the record I freaking dislike GALs, they are terrible. These people are supposed to come out before every court hearing, we saw Z's once. ONCE. Court happened way more than once.
On November 22nd at 5:30 pm is when we were officially told she would be leaving our house. Guess what day. The very next day. So at 10am on November 23rd I said good bye to a little two year old girl that was not mine in any sense that matters to anyone else, but to us, she belonged with us. We were here home. Our home was hers. Her mess was ours.
And now I knew I had to do the hard hard hard job of mourning the loss of a child that was still very much alive. Alive and only an hour away from me. How would I survive........
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