G-Ma. Our oldest son jokes that he is now Aaron's "Bruncle" though, he will remain Uncle. If Aaron decides he wants to call us Mom & Dad when he is much older, we will gladly except that title if it suits him.
The adoption having finally taken place allows me the freedom to discuss some topics that I was unable to cover before. Because we were legally Aaron's licensed foster parents we were bound by confidentiality agreements that prevented me from sharing some experiences with anyone other than close family and friends who were aware from the onset of our journey. Since I am currently nursing a headache, I'll save the emotional purge for my next blog and focus on the role of the dreaded child protective workers.
When we were first approached by a child protective worker the questions were focused on Aaron's parents. Over the first few days I began hearing child protective horror stories from various friends and family, and fears for my grandson and his parents were heightened. A couple of days in, I went to the hospital to visit Aaron and discovered his mother was not there. I cuddled him close and cried; swearing to him that nothing would ever harm him again on my watch and I was sorry I didn't see the signs that put him at risk. The temporary protective worker assigned his case in the beginning came in and explained that Aaron's mother had been confrontational and disruptive and she asked me to please take her home and get her away from the hospital. I began to cry again, I had a gut wrenching fear that if I put Aaron back in his bed and left, that I would never see him again. I voiced my concern and the child protective worker comforted me and promised that would not happen. I had no choice but to trust her, and so I took Aaron's mother away from the hospital amid the watchful presence of security guards.
The worker kept her word, in fact, when Aaron was released from the hospital a few days later, he was released to me and my husband's care. About a week later a permanent child protective worker was assigned to Aaron's case. Her name was Karen and while we started off rocky (largely because of my fear of losing Aaron to the system and my belief that no one was as capable or loving enough to keep him safe and happy as my husband and I could and would). I was wrong and soon came to realize that Karen was very receptive to our concerns and needs. She was not the evil family decimator I had been warned about; on the contrary, everything she did was for Aaron's benefit.
Over the course of the past two and half years Karen has grown to be more of a friend who stopped in once a month talking about our concerns or troubles, and sharing stories about her own family, pets and grandchild. I admit that until the adoption was finalized I lived with a small, nagging fear of something going wrong and Aaron being whisked away. But, for the most part, Karen eased our mind and our worries on the matter.
I believe my husband and I's honest open nature certainly helped. I am a very open person and don't shy aware from difficult topics, nor do I hesitate to speak my mind when I have questions, concerns or opinions. My gregarious and direct personality coupled with my willingness to make myself, Aaron and our home available on short notice established a mutual trust. We showed Karen through my frankness that we had nothing to hide and I was quick to voice my concerns regarding the inability of Aaron's parents to be stable parents. I acknowledged their flaws and never made excuses for their poor behaviors. Because I am able to look at the situation critically and honestly, I think she quickly came to know I was unlikely to place Aaron in a situation that jeopardizes his safety.
The child protective workers job is to ensure the safety, stability and wellbeing of a child. They come into the situation not knowing the family or its dynamics. They know only that a child was harmed, abused or neglected and it is their job to keep that child safe. In our case, it was our son who was the catalyst to child protective intervention. Karen came into our family not knowing whether or not our son learned his behaviors from us or whether his actions were his own. To her credit, as she came to know us she would shoot down any feelings of guilt that may have crept in on me from time to time. It's too easy to think "If I had only done things differently, none of this would have happened", when in reality we've raised our children well and the decisions they choose to make (good and bad) are their own.
I have heard and read horror stories about inept and corrupt child protective workers. However, I believe strongly that they are a minority. As with any profession we will encounter those who are undertrained or dishonest, but the vast majority are diligently seeking the same goal we are; keeping our grandbabies safe. They are simply pursuing that goal without the added benefit of knowing the family history and relationships.
Karen was and is an excellent child protective worker, she has evolved into a family friend and will always be welcome in our home. Aaron loves her and runs to her for hugs and kisses as quickly as he does my best friend. After all, she has been visiting him once a month since he was just a month old. In his eyes she is part our family circle and I consider us fortunate to have had her holding our hand through some very turbulent times. They are short staffed and underpaid. They see terrible instances of neglect and abuse which may at times make them overly cautious. In my opinion, and I'm sure yours, too, it's better they be overly cautious than not cautious enough. They are not the enemy. In most cases, they are the protective arms around that precious little person until a safe place can be ensured.
As always, be good to one another.
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