Saying goodbye

The hardest part for me was Tuesday night, when I sang them to sleep for the last time. I could barely get through Jacob's songs without crying, and had to leave Sophia's room twice to "wet my throat." I finally had to ask my wife to help me sing the last song. Then, with both kids blissfully asleep, we sank onto the living room futon and cried.
 
On Wednesday morning the kids asked, as they always do, whether it was Wednesday. Usually they ask with excitement -- Wednesday is Mom Visit day, and they love cheering when it is FINALLY Wednesday. This time, they burst into tears. It was Goodbye Day.

Luckily, it was also Sophia's big field trip for the end of summer camp. They were going to a zoo. She was excited about that, so we were able to soothe her and get her focused on the good parts of the day.

For Jacob, on the other hand, it was nothing but Goodbye Day. He was deeply depressed by the whole thing. He begged to come back with us while we packed the minivan, rather than going to the new foster mom for babysitting. I let him stay so that he could say goodbye on his own terms. He helped carry out the bags we'd packed, but quickly that turned into him throwing his shoes and running off.

I sat with him while he struggled to cope with the turmoil he felt. He agreed to walk through the house one last time, to say goodbye, and then go to the new house. So my wife stopped what she was doing, we walked through the house, stopping and crying together and talking about our memories in many rooms, and then we all went to the new home.

Luckily, since he's been there daily for babysitting this past week, he was able to fall into a routine. We unpacked the van and headed back to do the last laundry and take the decals off the walls so we could decorate their new bedrooms just like their old bedrooms.

By the time I finished work, my wife had finished everything, and Jacob met me happily at the door to show me his room. He had destroyed so many of the decals he'd earned at our house that my wife decided to simply put up all the decals she had. So there were all new Batman decals, and he happily showed me every one.

Remembering how difficult it was for us at first, handed a mixed garbage bag of clothes for both kids, Sandy had sorted and folded everything so that the kids' clothes were all organized by type. The new foster mom was happily putting the last of Sophia's clothes away.

Then we had to get Jacob into the car to go get Sophia and bring them to their mom visit. They knew the goodbye was looming, but we tried to stay happy, singing the songs they have come to love. We also talked openly about it -- we talked about how much we'd miss them, and that it was OK to be sad, but that we hoped they would love and be happy at their new home. Finally, we pulled into the parking lot. Sophia looked stricken.

"You can do this," I told her. "Be brave. Remember, Mommy said we can see you again. All you have to do is ask."

She nodded and bravely got out of the car. I'd been afraid she would stick to her promise of refusing to leave, forcing me to carry her inside screaming and have the caseworkers peel her off. I wanted a better goodbye than that. I wanted her to remember something less traumatic than that. So we hugged them goodbye and walked them in, them clinging to our hands. Remember how it was supposed to be a therapeutic environment, with clinicians there to help the kids transition?

In reality, they had scheduled a lengthy meeting with the bio mom, in which she screamed at them for two hours, blaming them for god knows what. She had also brought a movie for the kids to watch. There were no clinicians there. Very therapeutic. I am so, so glad we told them early!

We were kept waiting because bio mom was off screaming at the caseworkers, and someone was dispatched to try to wrap things up so the kids could come in. The kids were utterly silent and motionless. This was not a good way to start things.

Eventually a caseworker came and walked them back to the room for the visit. We went back to the car and unhooked the car seats and gathered up other stuff that the new foster mom would need, which we had agreed to leave for her at the office. Then one of the caseworkers came out, saying that we were wanted in the visit to say goodbye. We explained that we'd already said goodbye because we'd been told we wouldn't be allowed in the visit. Well, she said, bio mom wants you to come say goodbye.

Righty-o. One last time, we will do whatever the bio mom wants. So we went in, and bio mom instructed the kids to hug us and say thank you, as if any child should ever have to say thank you to people for caring for them. We hugged them, and bio mom said that when they came home, she would take them to a park to meet up with us.

We tried to ignore the implicit threat: and until then, you won't see them. We knew, going into this, that was likely.

But the kids know they have to ask. It is unfair, and they are too young, but they have to advocate for themselves in this.

The DSS caseworker came out to chat with us as we were leaving. She told us that after the events of Monday (when bio grandmother whispered something to Jacob that made him cry hysterically for 15 minutes, and which he said she told him not to repeat to anyone), bio grandmother is banned from visits, doctor's appointments and phone calls. Given that she has caused no end of trouble during those times, we took it as a very positive sign that things might be easier for the new foster mom.

The DSS caseworker also expressed surprise when we said we would not be fostering anymore. We were professional, but we explained calmly that we did not want to be involved in the system any more.

More on that in another post.

In the meantime, we went home. I went to work. My wife went to work. We had to just pick ourselves up and carry on, as if our hearts were not broken forever.