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Life of a Therapeutic Parent ( Part three)



When your heart shatters

So this is where things start getting hard to blog about... I have put this post off because I wasn't sure how to approach this part of my story. I have spent A LOT of time in prayer, and feel like I should just blog directly from my heart, so here we go...


We were cruising along life with with 6 kids. Managing autism and preemie health issues have just become part of life, and were not an overly huge deal to me. Then my phone rang on early afternoon. I can still put myself in that moment to this day... It was my Grandmother. She didn't call, so this was odd to see on the caller ID. She was incredibly upset because she had found out that one of my cousin had lost her 2 girls into the foster care system. She wanted to know if I knew how to "use my computer to get information". So I told her I would see what I could do and call her back. I managed to locate the worker on the case, and explained who I was, and why I was calling. She gave me a little bit of information, and then asked if we would be interested in taking the girls. I stammered a bit, because I knew nothing about fostering, and we had 6 kids already. I told her we would think about it and I would let her know. I let my Grandmother know the information I was given, and then she started pleading with me to help. Being the huge co dependent I was at this time, I told her I would discuss it with my husband and let her know. After discussing it at home, we decided to pray about it in the temple. ( I am LDS in case you didn't know ) Many church members attend a temple session to hopefully receive guidance about important matters during prayer. We felt that we should open our home and hearts to these little girls, so I made the call to the social worker....


In trying to keep this the short version of a very long story. The older girl ended up going to live with her father, and our daughters father who supposed to get custody of her was arrested on his way to his court hearing for numerous charges including driving a stolen vehicle. So we got the call to come pick her up. She was just over 2 1/2 years old. I knew from the start that something was wrong... HORRIBLY WRONG. This beautiful little girl could rage unlike anyone I have ever seen. VIOLENT rages that would last up to 8 hours before she would eventually just pass out. They told us, that she was just adjusting, and it would be fine... It was never fine... We took her to Dr after psychiatrist, anger management, behavior coach, therapist of all kids, reward systems, diet change, supplements, medication, and eventually inpatient psychiatric hospital stays... By the age of 5.. We continued to fight to heal this child. After diagnosis after diagnosis, they finally told us... Reactive Attachment Disorder. This was my worst fear. So I researched, and fought the mental health care system, and even had to bring in a lawyer to fight the public school so she could have the supports in place that she needed to keep everyone safe. By 9 years old she had been kicked out of day treatment, and had a police investigation against her. By 10 she had been kicked out of the only residential treatment facility that would accept her, and a therapeutic home. The judge would not allow her to live in a home with children younger then her, or any child that had special needs due to safety issues.( which 2 of our children are younger then her, and one is very developmentally delayed ) By 11 she had spent time in juvenile detention for assault on a police officer. All the love in the world I could give her couldn't undo the trauma to her brain that was put on her before she came to us. She is a teen now, and the road has been long and horrible. Myself and the other children have what is called " secondary PTSD " from living with her. The therapists compare it to people that live in a domestic violence situation. As thats truly what it is. It's just your child that is the abuser... She does not live in our home still, and never will for the safety of my other children. But is somewhere safe, and incredibly loved, and is still part of my life. I pray everyday for her to heal and have an amazing life filled with love and joy....


Next will be the last part of this topic. This story did not complete our foster care journey....