I was going to wait and publish this after Wednesday, but the thoughts just won't go away. I am mulling them over and over and over in my mind. Therefore, I knew I needed some blog-therapy. Fair warning now, this WILL be a long post.
To catch you up to speed, last Wednesday I went for Baby D's agency review. You can read about the last agency review by clicking here. Basically, this meeting is just for agency workers to review the case. The birth parents did not show up for the last review, but this time birth dad came. Birth mom was supposedly attending a class that is part of her case plan for reunification.
Anyway, as I was sitting outside the conference room, waiting on the meeting to start, I kept wondering if his birth parents would show up. As the time crept closer and closer, I was starting to think not. Then, I glanced up and saw birth dad. Immediately, my heart began to race. Something about him gives me the creeps. Actually, a lot about him gives me the creeps.
Anyway, he sat next to me and attempted small talk. Usually this is my forte. I mustered out a few comments and he finally asked me how his son was doing. I looked him straight in the eye and said,
"He's doing great."
Finally, we went into the tiny conference room. Public building are notorious for their uninviting chairs, tables and decor. This room was no exception. I made my way down to the furthest chair and sat. With a buffer seat in between, birth dad sat down next to me and then our social worker. Across the table sat 2 women, neither of which introduced themselves, so I can't tell you who they are. I think one is the supervisor for our social worker. This is my second encounter with her (the first was over the phone) and let me tell you that I have been none too impressed by her at either interaction.
The Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) supervisor sat at the end of the table.
The social worker asked birth father if he remembered how an agency review went. No one introduced themself, no one introduced me. No one hardly looked at me. I sat there, shocked that such little effort was made to ensure that everyone knew the protocol. Maybe there isn't a protocol?
Baby D's social worker began to unpack the latest developments in the case plan. She told how the birth parents had completed a portion of the case plan (an insignificant portion at that) and how they were working on a second part, which will require 90 hours of classes.
She proceeded to tell the panel about the latest setbacks in Baby D's case. As she did, I sat and stared at the birth father. I searched his face for any hint of remorse or guilt or shame. I saw none. He sat, with his head down, shaking it almost knowingly, casually acknowledging his mistakes.
Finally, the Guardian Ad Litem supervisor looked at me and asked me how Baby D was doing. He asked me if Baby D needed any intervention or therapy evaluations for developmental delays. I simply replied,
"Compared with my other 3 children, he is right on track. Our pediatrician hasn't seen any need for intervention. He is making eye contact, following sounds and cooing."
At that birth father began throwing in his two cents. He told the panel how Baby D played with his toys at the visits and how well he was doing with growing.
What?!?
I'm sorry, are you pretending to know your child? The child that has been in my care for the last 3 months? The child that you have spent a mere 40 hours with since his birth? My son who I have rocked and fed and changed and loved on for the other 2,120 hours? Surely you can't be!
As the steam began to shoot out of my ears, I hear the supervisor of the social worker begin to chime in.
She says, with the meekest disposition and almost in a whisper,
"Mr. --, It is our understanding that you and your wife desire to bring [Baby D] home with you. I want you to know that this is our desire for you too. We are here, cheering you on. However, the clock is ticking and you have a lot of work to do. You all need to work hard and stay out of trouble so that [Baby D] can come home soon. We will do all we can to help you."
My mind screams. My heart is pounding. She can't be serious.
Birth father mumbles something about working harder and trying to break bad habits. I didn't really hear what he was saying because I think my ears were bleeding.
The meeting is adjourned and as we stand to leave this same supervisor gives birth father one final thought. Still in the same voice she says,
"Now don't hold your head down. You hold your head up as you leave here. It's gonna work out. Okay?"
With that, I am doing all I can trying to get out of that room. If these people don't move, I'll push them over or crawl across the table....anything to get out. Still not acknowledging me, the supervisor sits quietly, as we all exit.
I go an alternate route out of the building to ensure that I do not encounter birth father again, much less have to endure an elevator ride with him. I don't think I would be good at holding my tongue at this point.
The errands that followed and the ride home provided me with enough time to cool off. I'm still processing it all.
Flash forward to Friday. The same social worker comes for a home visit to see Baby D. I like her and feel comfortable talking with her. However, our communication has lacked something to be desired. This meeting made me feel a TON better.
Without going into those pesky details that I am unable to share, I will tell you that I think that the social worker and I see eye to eye on more than I had previously thought. We both feel that it is unsafe for Baby D to return to birth parents as they currently are living. She also assured me that the progress they have made is not significant which is a word that DSS uses to determine whether or not the plan will change from "Reunification" to "Termination of Parental Rights (TPR)." Of course, as for now, reunification is still the goal.
I made sure she understood that I desired for Baby D to return home to his parents IF:
1. They became believers in Christ Jesus and had a complete life change.
2. They completed every last word of their case plan and remained drug free for the duration of his placement.
She agreed with me, at least openly on #2.
Okay, lastly, if you're still reading this...
This Wednesday we have another review. It's a new policy in NC and they bring in an outside mediator or something to review the case. They are unbiased and get only the factual information about what birth parents are suppose to do, what they have already done and any offenses they have made against their case plan.
It will be a rough day. It's scheduled for an hour long and we are suppose to take Baby D. That means I will have to sit there and watch this woman pretend to mother my baby.
I know that God will provide, I know He will bring me through, but right now I feel so bogged down.
---I love how God provides. Here I am writing this blog, focusing on the worst possible scenario and I get a surprise skype from Lindy. With the time difference, I was shocked to get a message from her.
I don't know what it is about her, and her in Africa at that, that brings me out of a funk. Anyway, a few minutes of skype chat with her and I am seeing clearly again. Last week, I cried to her and Joy over web cam. I'm thinking she may quit skyping me if I do not become emotionally stable. Ha! God continues to show me that I can make it thorough all things, I just have to remember where my strength comes from.---
Now, I KNOW I can face Wednesday, although I would still cherish your prayers.
Thank you so much.
Father, why is it that I doubt you? Just when I think I cannot see past the dark, you shine your light on my situation all the way from Africa. Thank you so much for providing people in my life that understand. Thank you for the miracle of friendships that seem to strengthen across miles and oceans and satellite feeds. Thank you for being a sustainer. Thank you for your promises and how you help me to remember them with clarity. You are amazing and I am continually in awe of how You love and care for me, even when I try to make it without you.
To catch you up to speed, last Wednesday I went for Baby D's agency review. You can read about the last agency review by clicking here. Basically, this meeting is just for agency workers to review the case. The birth parents did not show up for the last review, but this time birth dad came. Birth mom was supposedly attending a class that is part of her case plan for reunification.
Anyway, as I was sitting outside the conference room, waiting on the meeting to start, I kept wondering if his birth parents would show up. As the time crept closer and closer, I was starting to think not. Then, I glanced up and saw birth dad. Immediately, my heart began to race. Something about him gives me the creeps. Actually, a lot about him gives me the creeps.
Anyway, he sat next to me and attempted small talk. Usually this is my forte. I mustered out a few comments and he finally asked me how his son was doing. I looked him straight in the eye and said,
"He's doing great."
Finally, we went into the tiny conference room. Public building are notorious for their uninviting chairs, tables and decor. This room was no exception. I made my way down to the furthest chair and sat. With a buffer seat in between, birth dad sat down next to me and then our social worker. Across the table sat 2 women, neither of which introduced themselves, so I can't tell you who they are. I think one is the supervisor for our social worker. This is my second encounter with her (the first was over the phone) and let me tell you that I have been none too impressed by her at either interaction.
The Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) supervisor sat at the end of the table.
The social worker asked birth father if he remembered how an agency review went. No one introduced themself, no one introduced me. No one hardly looked at me. I sat there, shocked that such little effort was made to ensure that everyone knew the protocol. Maybe there isn't a protocol?
Baby D's social worker began to unpack the latest developments in the case plan. She told how the birth parents had completed a portion of the case plan (an insignificant portion at that) and how they were working on a second part, which will require 90 hours of classes.
She proceeded to tell the panel about the latest setbacks in Baby D's case. As she did, I sat and stared at the birth father. I searched his face for any hint of remorse or guilt or shame. I saw none. He sat, with his head down, shaking it almost knowingly, casually acknowledging his mistakes.
Finally, the Guardian Ad Litem supervisor looked at me and asked me how Baby D was doing. He asked me if Baby D needed any intervention or therapy evaluations for developmental delays. I simply replied,
"Compared with my other 3 children, he is right on track. Our pediatrician hasn't seen any need for intervention. He is making eye contact, following sounds and cooing."
At that birth father began throwing in his two cents. He told the panel how Baby D played with his toys at the visits and how well he was doing with growing.
What?!?
I'm sorry, are you pretending to know your child? The child that has been in my care for the last 3 months? The child that you have spent a mere 40 hours with since his birth? My son who I have rocked and fed and changed and loved on for the other 2,120 hours? Surely you can't be!
As the steam began to shoot out of my ears, I hear the supervisor of the social worker begin to chime in.
She says, with the meekest disposition and almost in a whisper,
"Mr. --, It is our understanding that you and your wife desire to bring [Baby D] home with you. I want you to know that this is our desire for you too. We are here, cheering you on. However, the clock is ticking and you have a lot of work to do. You all need to work hard and stay out of trouble so that [Baby D] can come home soon. We will do all we can to help you."
My mind screams. My heart is pounding. She can't be serious.
Birth father mumbles something about working harder and trying to break bad habits. I didn't really hear what he was saying because I think my ears were bleeding.
The meeting is adjourned and as we stand to leave this same supervisor gives birth father one final thought. Still in the same voice she says,
"Now don't hold your head down. You hold your head up as you leave here. It's gonna work out. Okay?"
With that, I am doing all I can trying to get out of that room. If these people don't move, I'll push them over or crawl across the table....anything to get out. Still not acknowledging me, the supervisor sits quietly, as we all exit.
I go an alternate route out of the building to ensure that I do not encounter birth father again, much less have to endure an elevator ride with him. I don't think I would be good at holding my tongue at this point.
The errands that followed and the ride home provided me with enough time to cool off. I'm still processing it all.
Flash forward to Friday. The same social worker comes for a home visit to see Baby D. I like her and feel comfortable talking with her. However, our communication has lacked something to be desired. This meeting made me feel a TON better.
Without going into those pesky details that I am unable to share, I will tell you that I think that the social worker and I see eye to eye on more than I had previously thought. We both feel that it is unsafe for Baby D to return to birth parents as they currently are living. She also assured me that the progress they have made is not significant which is a word that DSS uses to determine whether or not the plan will change from "Reunification" to "Termination of Parental Rights (TPR)." Of course, as for now, reunification is still the goal.
I made sure she understood that I desired for Baby D to return home to his parents IF:
1. They became believers in Christ Jesus and had a complete life change.
2. They completed every last word of their case plan and remained drug free for the duration of his placement.
She agreed with me, at least openly on #2.
Okay, lastly, if you're still reading this...
This Wednesday we have another review. It's a new policy in NC and they bring in an outside mediator or something to review the case. They are unbiased and get only the factual information about what birth parents are suppose to do, what they have already done and any offenses they have made against their case plan.
It will be a rough day. It's scheduled for an hour long and we are suppose to take Baby D. That means I will have to sit there and watch this woman pretend to mother my baby.
I know that God will provide, I know He will bring me through, but right now I feel so bogged down.
---I love how God provides. Here I am writing this blog, focusing on the worst possible scenario and I get a surprise skype from Lindy. With the time difference, I was shocked to get a message from her.
I don't know what it is about her, and her in Africa at that, that brings me out of a funk. Anyway, a few minutes of skype chat with her and I am seeing clearly again. Last week, I cried to her and Joy over web cam. I'm thinking she may quit skyping me if I do not become emotionally stable. Ha! God continues to show me that I can make it thorough all things, I just have to remember where my strength comes from.---
Now, I KNOW I can face Wednesday, although I would still cherish your prayers.
Thank you so much.
Father, why is it that I doubt you? Just when I think I cannot see past the dark, you shine your light on my situation all the way from Africa. Thank you so much for providing people in my life that understand. Thank you for the miracle of friendships that seem to strengthen across miles and oceans and satellite feeds. Thank you for being a sustainer. Thank you for your promises and how you help me to remember them with clarity. You are amazing and I am continually in awe of how You love and care for me, even when I try to make it without you.