Rewards from foster parenting

Over the last 42 years, my husband and I fostered 45 chil­dren (three of whom we adopt­ed), ranging in age from new­born to 17. We’ve witnessed dramatic changes in the social services system — many good, some bad. The key to whether the system accomplishes what it’s designed to do depends on whether everybody involved functions as a cohesive team.

I’d like to share one of my experiences on such a team. (Note that names have been changed and some of this ma­terial will be published in the March/April issue of Fostering Families Today magazine.) On this particular spring day, I sat in a meeting with the court-appointed guardian for my foster toddler, Mikey, who was 16 months old. He slept against my shoulder as the social workers, managers and legal advisers discussed his case. Once in a while, he roused a bit to snuggle more closely.

His social worker, Beth, paused from her comments to the other attendees, saying, “There’s an example of how the System should work — Mikey has been with Mrs. Player for six months. During that time, he’s learned to trust, and she’s been helping his mother un­derstand how to manage his tantrums.”

Mikey was 10 months old when he was placed with us after being hospitalized for a concussion and two broken bones inflicted by his stepfa­ther. He was a frightened, an­gry baby with serious attach­ment issues. His mother, Ag­nes, testified against his stepfa­ther, who was jailed for felony child abuse. Agnes wanted to regain custody and cooperated with all of the training and hoops she had to jump through to demonstrate her fitness as a mother.

For the first three months of Mikey’s placement, Agnes visited him for an hour each week in the Family Support Center. I brought him there and picked him up. The visits didn’t go well because he usually screamed the whole hour. I finally asked Beth to allow visits in my home so Mikey could be where he felt safer.

It took some paperwork and approval by the family court judge, but we figured out a routine that allowed Agnes to watch me care for Mikey then take over some of his care while I was nearby. After an­other few months, I began leav­ing her in the house with him while I ran errands.

During this time, I wrote weekly reports, describing Mikey’s behavior with Agnes, which I periodically discussed with Beth and her supervisor. We all agreed that transferring Mikey’s bond from me to his mother would be possible and in everybody’s best interest, especially Mikey’s.

Eight months after Mikey arrived on my doorstep, he went home with Agnes. She sent me a cute picture of him the following Christmas and called me periodically. Agnes married again when Mickey was three, giving him a good father and twin half-sisters.

The family moved from our town when Mikey was about 10. I lost track of him after that. But his memory is one of those bright lights in my mind that continues to make me smile and reinforces why I urge families to make a difference for the most vulnerable among us.