RAD making world news

http://news.yahoo.com/s/time/20071219/wl_time/cananadoptedchildbereturned

So, I don’t know the details of this case, and I obviously don’t know any of the people involved, but if they are truly dealing with attachment disorder, I feel sorry for the family. What makes this case difficult is that they adopted when the little girl was four months old. At four months it is possible that the child is already affected by RAD, but at four months the therapy would not be as difficult to help the child attach—versus therapy for an older child. Unfortunately, if the family is unaware of the disorder, it would be difficult to deliver the right types of treatment.

Having considered the option of dissolving our adoption of a RADish, I know that this decision is not made lightly. Even thinking about it causes great stress and discomfort, but then the first time you articulate that thought to anyone, you know that you have crossed over to a new phase of possibility—a very frightening and disappointing phase.

No one goes into an adoption thinking that one day you may choose to relinquish that child back into the system—it would never cross your mind. Choosing to adopt is not a light decision either. Usually you consider it for months or even years before you ever make the first phone call. Then there are orientation meetings, lots of forms to fill out, interviews, studies, training, and one of the deepest invasions into your personal life you may ever experience. At any stage of this process, you can back out if you don’t think adoption is the path for you. Even going through Foster-Adoption, where during the PRIDE training, the worst-case scenario is played out for you to some extent, you may still decide that you want to do this. Even when the little-known statistic that 90-95% of the kids in Foster Care have been sexually abused is revealed, you may still chose to fight for this kid and try to do right by this child. You have the hope that you can make a difference—that you can parent this child, and you commit to this unknown person long before you ever have a name or a face to connect to this person.

Making the decision to dissolve an adoption attacks that commitment; attacks your efforts, your hopes and dreams for the child and your entire family. Dissolving is an admission of failure—something not easily swallowed or ever invited. The process of dissolving varies across the globe, but it is never an easy process—and rightfully so. So, for someone to make the decision to go forward with plans to dissolve, their lives must already be a living hell; a hell that relates to that child.

The child is not at fault, some adult failed this child to cause this condition, so of course, everyone empathizes with the kid seeming to be discarded again as unwanted. There is nothing pretty about it. There are no winners in dissolution, but sometimes the long term effect can be better for all. The family can start to heal and recover and try to find peace again in their lives and the kid can try a new situation that may not put so many demands for attachment on him or her. While it appears that the kid is being “left behind” or “taken away” from the only family they’ve ever known, the reality is that if there is no attachment, the kid may not feel that way at all. The kid may feel some relief from the pressure to deliver an attachment that they are incapable of providing. The kid may miss their lifestyle or their possessions more than anything.

Again, this case is difficult because she was so young when adopted—they could have built a bond with the infant. But if the family never got the information they needed—never got any diagnosis of the potential disorder—then they were handicapped from the beginning. The article mentions that they tried intense therapy, but being in the throws of that therapy now, I can see that the treatments can be exhausting with only a minute trace of possible change. Having such public exposure (through the father’s career) to such a personal trauma cannot make the process any easier—which leads me to believe that this family may be desperate for change. Sounds like they have the means to still take care of her through other resources without having to interact too much with her—through nannies and other caregivers—so to save face they could have chosen to keep her, and keep this all quiet, but the situation pushed them to risk all just to find peace again.

At this point, we are no longer considering dissolution—we are working very hard to salvage our relationship with DD, but we know first-hand how difficult a journey this is, with only two years under our belt. This Dutch family has eight years of this experience. I sincerely hope that they tried everything and that the family and the girl all find peace and happiness in their lives. I hope that those who judge this family without fully understanding the situation learn more about the circumstances and the challenges. Most of all, I sincerely hope that this family is not misleading the public, using attachment disorder as an excuse to relinquish their obligations to this girl when there is really something else going on. They would do a horrible disservice to anyone associated with adoption or anyone working through attachment disorder.

Breakthrough?

We all sat on the couch, facing TT. DH on one end, me on the other, and DD in the middle. He asked her how she was doing. She said she was tired. He asked her how she knew she was tired. She said she was sleepy. He asked her how she knew she was sleepy; what did that feel like? She said she was yawning and her eyes were heavy. He asked what that felt like. She couldn't quite describe it. There was some awkward silence while she squirmed and picked at her cuticles, and she finally said, "I don't know." He then said, "so is that an excuse to not participate tonight?" "No! No!" she exclaimed. This is how the session began.

He then asked how her week was and she answered that it was a fun weekend. He asked her to explain, and as she did, he kept interrupting her to ask clarifying questions, then would take her back a step in the story and make her repeat herself, and explain every detail, all the while he commented on her physical behavior. "You are getting very tense. Do you notice that?" No. "Slow down, breathe. Do you feel how anxious you get and how fast you are talking? I need you to breathe. Go ahead and breathe. I can't hear it. Take a deep breathe. Oh look. There's that face. Wow, we made it 24 minutes before I saw that face. That 'I want to kill you face.' What does that mean?" He called her on everything.

Then she made a gesture with her hands while telling a story and he stopped her and made her repeat the gesture. Asked her to move her hands in that same motion very slowly. While she was starting to do that, he kept talking and she dropped her hands. He pointed out that she quit - to put her hands back up. She did and he started talking, she again dropped her hands. He said, "Wow, you quit on me again. You are so quick to give up. Are you willing to try again?" This went on over and over again for about 10 minutes until she really threw him a look, which he constantly pointed out to her. He asked her how she kept this look from other people because this was a really big part of her. He pointed out how many times she quit and how easy it was for her to quit. Then he said the word "hopeless" came to mind. That she always quit because she thought it was all hopeless, so why try. Why try to get along? Why try to love and be loved? Why try to succeed. Said she needed to stop quitting and needed to try.

We sat there silently watching this all through the corners of our eyes. Occasionally, when she got uncomfortable, she looked to her left, towards DH, like looking for help. Eventually TT pointed out that she kept looking to him, but that in 45 minutes she had not looked at me once. He asked why? Wanted to know what was going on. She gave her usual "nothing" response. He then turned to me and asked if I was willing to participate. I said yes.

He had DH leave the couch and sit in a big chair facing us. He had DD stand up, then had me move to the far end of the couch. He told DD to sit to the right of me. Then told her to put her feet up on the couch and put her head in my lap. This was extremely difficult for her to grasp for some reason, so TT, a very large man, stood up, scooped up DD and placed her whole upper torso across my lap. He grabbed DD's right hand and put her arm under mine and around my waist, behind my back. I basically cradled her in my arms. He grabbed DD's left arm and placed her hand on my right shoulder.

He told DD to look in my eyes and tell him what she saw. She looked at me for a second and said "frustration" then looked away. Then dropped her hand from my shoulder. He put her hand back on my shoulder and told her to continue looking into my eyes. She did for a second, laughed nervously, and looked away again. He told her to keep looking into my eyes. She really couldn't do it for more than a few seconds.

He then told her to touch my face. I started to get emotional and tear up. She put her closed left hand on my right cheek. He pointed out that she had a fist on my face, and that she was fighting me. She denied it. He told her to open her hand and touch my face, then he noticed my tears. He said, "Whoa! That doesn't look like frustration to me. What do you see now?" She said sadness, and dropped her hand from my face. He said, "Wow. You are quitting again. You keep quitting your mom. This is not your roommate or your caregiver, this is your mom. She is not quitting you, but you keep quitting her. Touch her face without me placing your hand on her face, and look her in the eyes." She did it, but quickly looked away again, trying to laugh it off. He kept redirecting her. She finally lasted about 15 seconds. Then he told her to keep her eyes open, but to touch my whole face as if she were blind. To explore my face. She just couldn't do it. She never did.

He commented on how freaky it was that we looked so much alike. She immediately said, "You should see me and my brother." He said, "wow! you rejected her again. I told you you look like your mom and you immediately take that focus away and talk about your brother. Like - no way do I look like her." You can't look at her. You can't touch her. You can't even believe that you look like her so you keep quitting her."

He made her touch my face again and really stare into my eyes. She looked at me, smiled, squirmed, arched her back, shifted her hips, and he pointed it all out. All her physical reactions to touch, to closeness, to love. Her physical discomfort--her rejection to this closeness. He asked, "Does this feel strange? Are you uncomfortable?" She giggled and bobbed her head shoulder to shoulder like a "sort of" kind of answer. He pointed out how much her body revealed her discomfort then asked if she knew why she was so uncomfortable. She said she didn't know. He paused for a minute.

"Because this is the only mother who's ever held you like this."

She nodded in agreement. She had no other reaction. I was choking from the flood of tears I was holding back. He asked her is she wanted me to be her mom and she shook her head yes. Then he asked her if she wanted to be my daughter, and again she shook her head yes. He then told us to hug. I pulled her close and rocked her a bit while I rubbed her back. We have never hugged like that. Never. She always puts her head down so there is great distance between her body and yours--she tucks the top of her head into your chest. She let go way before I did. He then told her to go wait in the lobby.

He handed me some tissues and asked if we had any questions. He then said he talked to his associate and explained that she misunderstood him completely. He never planned to call CPS--he offered that as a way out for us if this was too hard. This is what my DH thought he meant, but his associate was adamant that he meant to call because of the neglect of this child. He heard us yelling in her office yesterday. He denied everything she told us. He totally threw her under the bus. I told him that we would never see her again. He said we didn't have to. I told him that I came tonight to fire him. He said, "you still can fire me." I told him no, that I liked what I saw, and I think it will have an impact but that yesterday I felt totally attacked and threatened by him and his associate.

We talked it all out, and as he was leading us out of his office towards the lobby, he said, "And if you do want to fire me, just do it over the phone, don't come say it to my face, that would just hurt too much." Told him "Sorry, you will know if I am going to fire you. I just don't know how else to be, but honest, so I would probably tell you to your face." We laughed about it, but I am serious.

I am totally emotionally drained. My eyes are glassy and puffy and my nose is all red and I have a headache. I am once again cautiously hopeful that this guy might make a difference. He said she will need years of therapy, probably all the way through High School. I said that is OK, as long as there is progress, growth, learning. I just cannot face years of therapy with no change. I again said I need a Helen Keller/Miracle Worker water pump moment. She doesn't have to know sign language fluently, she just needs to understand that it exists. She doesn't have to be fluent in "human" she just has to know we exist and she has impact on us outside of her busy head.

We also have an appointment with a neuropsychologist on the 13th--just DH & I for the initial assessment. Then we will see if insurance approves testing and maybe later, therapy. I'm not putting all my eggs in TT's basket just yet.

More Disappointment

So last week, when TT asked DD how her Thanksgiving was, DD stated in her session that she lost 12 pounds in a week and insinuated that we don't feed her, saying she only gets one portion at meals, and that she is hungry at lunch. The therapist asked her if she asked for more, did she get it, and she said yes and said that she was fine. He asked what she eats at lunch and she listed 4-5 items, and said she was fine.

She DID NOT lose 12 pounds that week--which by the way was Thanksgiving week and oh yeah - she stayed at my father's for the week because school was out and he watched her for us. We took all sugar out of the house a year ago and I have lost 40 pounds, my son lost 30, my DH lost 20 and she lost 12 at the most! AND we took her off all the meds that were making her gain weight. She was OVERWEIGHT a year ago and gorging on foods--eating the lunch we packed and getting another lunch in the cafeteria. She would eat three plates of food at dinner and still claim to be hungry. BIG plates of food.

So, in our first and second session the therapist told us just how terribly damaged she was and that he saw four personalities and that she had a lot of trauma to overcome, and he took DH in the hall and literally said, "She is fu_ _ed up." but we went in today to find out that he considered calling CPS because she said she lost 12 pounds. He's never weighed her, she is not sickly skinny AT ALL, and he has no proof of neglect but considered calling CPS.

THIS is the support we are getting. THIS is the help we are getting. I am supposed to not get angry, but when I feel that my family is threatened by a LIE from a RAD kid and that someone with authority is prepared to take action on that lie without even ASKING us about it first, this doesn't help anger subside. How can an acclaimed RAD-specialist act on a false accusation like that--especially when she kept ending with "but I'm fine" and when asked clarifying questions she stated that the portions were big and she could have more if she asked for it?

Thing is, I am not even mad at her--this is what she does, and this is why we are begging for help. I am mad at the so-called specialist and his associate for even talking about calling CPS. She is RAD! One of the primary descriptions of a RAD kid is LIES and FALSELY ACCUSES. The associate that we see talked about neglect because of the 12 pound loss and because she hangs out in her room watching TV. She is 12. What do 12 year olds do? This is how we keep peace in the house - we don't engage too much because of the lies and the manipulation attempts. We are holding out, waiting for a breakthrough before we get too involved with her more and while she is upstairs watching Hannah Montana, and listening to her Cheetah Girls CDs and doing homework, we are being considered neglectful. We drive her to school everyday, pick her up most days (some days the kids have to walk home) and we go to therapy twice a week, and we are neglectful. She has Attachment Disorder. I cannot make her attach--I do not know how and I am desperately looking for a way to do that, but until then, I cannot make things right between us.

When we go out with other people, she instantly takes off with the new people. We went to a school sports activity on Friday night and she took off with another girl. No biggy, but at the end of the night came the request to spend the night with a stranger. Saturday we went to an extended family Christmas party out of town. As soon as she walked in she took off with newly met second-cousins and we never really saw her again until we left. On Sunday, we went to a surprise party for a friend I worked with 10 years ago. DD ran to be up front to open the big barn doors and yell surprise to a woman she never met. She ran outside to be with others. Then she told the owner of the ranch that she worked with horses quit a bit and the owner let DD run all over the party pulling a big horse behind her. She has NOT worked with horses quite a bit, but she led the woman to believe that she did, so she could get what she wanted. She never sat or stood near us--most probably didn't know she was with us. She is detached. She leaves us constantly. Probably since her second month with us she has preferred to hang with strangers--this is what RAD kids do. But her hanging in her room means we neglect her.

These are therapists numbers 5 and 6, psychiatrist number 3, and psychologist number 2 in two years. NEGLECT?!?!? If we neglected her would we be trying so hard to make this work? The countless hours we've spent reading, researching, filling out forms, driving to therapists and doctors all over a 50+ mile radius, leaving work for sessions, for phone calls, for school meetings, etc. NEGLECT!?!?!? We are begging for help and we get accused of neglect. I could easily quit this all and just go underground with her--seeing no one, just waiting out the time until she grows up and moves out, or runs away, or whatever, but that is not what we are doing. We are allowing all kinds of people to ask us all kinds of questions, we are opening ourselves up and getting analyzed by all kinds of people and trying to find a solution to help DD and to help our family and we are getting no where. Extremely frustrating.

Tomorrow is her session with TT. Both DH and I will attend. This will be our final session with him. We will now pursue a neuropsychologist. I'm done with therapists.

Cautious Hope

So, I don't want to get too excited. I don't want too get optimistic, but the session that DH took DD to was not at all what we expected.

My husband said it was like watching an exorcism and that he wholly expected DD's head to start spinning at any minute.

Apparently the therapist, we will call him TT (for The Therapist) played her like a harp, switching personas quicker than her, pulling out all her traits, pretty and ugly, and calling her on her BS. He went from empathetic, supportive, to harsh, confronting, to happy, distracted, to focused, unrelenting--all while never raising his voice or getting too emotionally involved. DH tried to correct an incorrect answer that DD gave to one question and TT said, "See, your father is trying to rescue and protect you. See how much he cares for you. Now - Dad - you need to just observe and not comment, OK."

DH said that DD looked to him desperately several times throughout the session and he just shook his head and nodded towards TT--letting her know that SHE needed to answer this. TT would not accept her usual "I don't know" answers and would really push her when she repeated it. DH said he exposed the different personas that DD likes to throw at people during different situations.

When it was over, TT took DH into the hall and literally said, "She is F'd up. Sorry." He said that he witnessed four different personalities - the 2-year old, the happy, friendly one, the sexually-flirtatious one, and the bitch. We recognize all those as different personas--not necessarily schizo personalities like Sybil--but there are many more that he has yet to see. Still, he saw a lot in a relatively short time.

One way or another, TT had a great impact on DH. Either this is the path we will go down to actually crack open this kid and maybe really get to see the little girl that must be buried in there somewhere, or this tactic was just his way to get us to buy into him and his practice, letting us know that HE KNOWS what we are going through and what we are dealing with--then turn the sessions into a poor DD treatment. [To read about him and his theories, I expected us to be required to bottle feed her and cradle her.] I don't know, and I don't care, but if this guy can really deliver all that he proudly boasts that he can do, then I will become his biggest cheerleader, praising his name, promoting his work, and pimping him out any way that I can. I will go back to all the naysayers who urged us to stay away from him and will do my best to re-educate them.

The other interesting development is that TT was angry that we were billed for our couples session. Said he had already worked out the billing with our insurance, Medicaid, and Lutheran and that he would get our money back. Said we would not pay a thing for it. So, this week he is a hero. I will proceed with cautious hope. I guess this is the "fun" part of the roller coaster.

Cost of compliance

So, we went to see the new therapist - the woman who works in conjunction with the RAD specialist. This was our couples therapy, so we could learn to deal with our issues. Because our issues are what keep us from helping DD's issues. We are dysregulated when we respond to her with anger, frustration, disappointment, or sadness. We are projecting our issues and our fears when we respond to her. We cannot help her until we heal our issues.

...

...

...

OK - I'll play along. Let's dig into MY "shit," because it is so obvious that WE are the problem here. Fine. I'm willing to learn new techniques--obviously what we are currently doing is not working. And why not? It has to be much more satisfying for a therapist to work with a functioning adult than try to work with an emotionally disturbed child--much easier to measure "success" if they can reprogram us and not really work on her. I understand the logic.

...

...

So we spend the hour and a half telling DD's story and telling our story for the umpteenth time. At the end of the session she asks if this timeslot works well for us because she has a lot of people screaming for this later timeslot. We said sure - we appreciate the 4:00 appointment. Her schedule was packed and we were pretty lucky to get this time. So then she asked for a check. Absolutely. I naively ask how much--thinking it would be a co-pay of $20 or maybe $40 for a specialist. Nope. I was wrong. $187.50. OK - Will it be $187.50 every Monday? Why yes - yes it will be. No insurance coverage? She does not file insurance and is not on our plan. Medicaid? No - not without the child in the room. Well...

Congratulations! You just cleared your Monday afternoon schedule. We will not spend $1000 a month on therapy. His co-pay for seeing DD is $40 a week, plus her $187.50 to see us?! No ma'am. My poor DH will face the battle today when he takes DD in for her therapy with the specialist. 1) Because the therapist insists the mother be there and unfortunately I won't be there, and 2) because he will learn that we are not going to do the couples therapy. Should be fun!

I guess we are just bad parents who will not cooperate. Oh well, we still get to see the new psychiatrist that no one has any faith in. Maybe he can just sedate her so we can get parent points there for drugging her, because that is the responsible thing to do.

Sorry - I am in a very sarcastic, cynical mood.

More and more and more...

So, to please those who might judge us, we are trying several new things in tandem.

We got the new pscyh eval and no surprises there. A Psychologist who rarely gives a RAD diagnosis said this case was undeniable. She then offered to try to help us find a new psychiatrist, not liking the name of the new one we will see after Thanksgiving. She also offered to look into the RTC she works with weekly. Told her we were open to anything right now. She was also not too thrilled with our new therapist choice.

Our new therapist is the ONLY one in town designated as a RAD specialist. I have resisted him for a year--not particularly agreeing with his philosophies, and not hearing anything good about his ability to work with older kids--but us not seeing him is viewed by some as not trying everything. So we saw him yesterday. He wants DH & I to go see his associate for 1 1/2 hours every week and then come in with DD for one hour another day of the week. Missing work and DD missing school. He suggested that this may take years. When asked why we needed this hour and a half for us, he plainly stated that when we "start digging in her shit, your shit is going to come up." Something to look forward to, I'm sure. So we agreed to try.

We let the school know that she will miss half a day every week until further notice. [His office is about 45 minutes away.) So far, they are supportive, knowing the issues that she is having in the classrooms. He insists that I need to be there for each of her sessions as well, as RAD is usually associated with rejection from the birth mother, so this is a mother issue. We tried to explain to him that DH is the primary caregiver, spending more time with both kids, but he disagreed. Unfortunately, I cannot take two afternoons off each week, so I am sure we will be seen as uncooperative when DH shows up with DD instead of me, but that is the best we can do. If I get fired from my job there won't be all this juicy insurance money to bilk for this new therapy. This man, of course, thinks that RTC is useless for DD and he says that the Psychologist we saw NEVER gives a RAD diagnosis.

The Psychiatrist we are to see after Thanksgiving is not well regarded by anyone, but he is the ONLY one that ANYONE can find that is taking new patients. We have also been told that we might not be trying everything to help DD because we do not have her medicated. So we are going to see the Psychiatrist so he can medicate her. There is no drug for RAD, but we need to do "everything to help her."

Of course, with each new resource there comes a mountain of papers to fill out. The same old questions, again and again. So, we get to stay up late filling out more and more forms, faxing, e-mailing, snail-mailing stuff, then go to work and make and take calls to set-up all the appointments, then take time off work to attend all these session, and of course, write checks everywhere. All this while dealing with the little bundle of joy in our home.

My mother has already suggested that we not all spend the holidays together as it is too stressful and uncomfortable with DD and her behaviors. Actually, the thought of buying Christmas gifts for DD is so uncomfortable. Just kind of stumps me.

Missing two afternoons of work this week to attend all these new sessions has put me behind. I go in early and stay late to try to catch up. There was also a school meeting last night and I did some volunteer work through my job that I signed up for months ago, so yesterday was a long one. I feel like I am running on empty at times. I am just kind of numb to all the DD stuff anymore. We are just going through the paces when it comes to this. I'm still emotional about it all, but the emotions have settled a little deeper under the surface for now. Perhaps when we start "digging into our shit" next week, things will bubble up again. Not sure yet what that will really mean to me or to DD's life.

The Roller Coaster Ride Continues...

We are back to square one again with her. We are not pursuing dissolution now, as Lutheran feels that the judges in our particular county will rake us over the coals stating that we haven't tried everything since we haven't put her back on drugs. She has been on so many combinations of so many drugs for over 6 years, and has had the same behaviors and issues throughout. Not sure what anyone expects will change, but fine, we will play along. Otherwise, we need to be prepared to shell out an initial $5K for a lawyer, to get charged with child abandonment, and to possibly pay child support to the state until her 18th birthday.

We cannot find a psychiatrist to treat her that is on our insurance plan, takes Medicaid, or is contracted with Lutheran Services--if we do find one, they are not taking any new patients. So getting her on drugs has posed a challenge, even to Lutheran. Our fourth therapist just dismissed us--and scheduled new people in our time slot--saying that when she recommended dissolution to Lutheran she didn't expect to see us again. No RTC will take her because she isn't cutting anyone--not crazy enough, and the Children's Homes will not take her because she has too many behaviors--too crazy. We can't fix this. She can't fix this. Nobody else will fix this, and if we try to get out of this, we are the bad guys. It is not a pretty picture. There is no end in sight. We just try to limit interaction.

We get the results of her latest psych eval on the 5th. Not sure what to expect or what that will do for us. I think my next move is to write to every RAD-specialized treatment center in the country, documenting the effort, to see if any of them will work with the insurance/Medicaid that we have available. We will no longer even play with the idea of getting a $60K loan to try to get her one year of help somewhere--with absolutely NO guarantee of any improvement.

We got a call from a teacher on Friday saying that she has tried very hard to work with DD and her behaviors but that she is at her wits end. She cannot seat her next to anyone without problems and when an incident escalated on Friday, she eventually asked DD to join her in the hall. At first, she refused, but eventually left the classroom. She continued to confront the teacher in the hall, escalating it further until the teacher said she would have to call her parents. At that point, DD went into her "Jerry Springer" mode and said "Oh no you won't!" The teacher was shocked and tried again to calm the situation, but nothing worked. She again said she would have to call us, to which DD again said. "No, you won't be calling my parents."

When the teacher told DH the story she sounded like she wanted to smack her in that moment. She said that if she had ever talked like that to a teacher that she would have met the back side of her mother's hand when she got home. He told her that we completely understand, and that we have the same issues at home and asked that she simply document everything--because other parties think WE are crazy and over-react. Told her to kick her out, if she had to. Apparently this has been going on since the beginning of the school year and all of the teachers have just been trying to work with her--show her some compassion and patience. Unfortunately, she has worn them out as well.

So - for now we have no therapist. We have no psychiatrist. The psychologist who did the eval only agreed to do the testing, but will not see her as a patient. The only psychiatrist in town with openings refuses to treat her condition. And all of this will reflect on us as not trying everything to help this kid and to "preserve the family." The state knew what they were dealing us, and now we are the ones failing this kid. We get to be the scapegoat for the dozens of people who failed this kid, to get her to this state.

What does a divorce feel like?

I mean an amicable one, where both parties agree to go their separate ways? I imagine that while there is some relief, there is also a lot of pain and disappointment. I image that both parties had high hopes, dreams, and fantasies about spending the rest of their lives together--becoming a family. Both parties go into the relationship with love and happiness and I would guess that both leave with sadness, loss, and a sense of failure or frustration.

We are at the beginning of the end with DD, and I have such jumbled feelings about the reality of it all. The steps are in motion.

Tonight, at our family session, the therapist first met with us alone. She asked us what we thought about the group session on Saturday. We shared our feelings of devastation, or hopelessness, or sadness from the realization that this won't get better. That we are looking at years of therapy and conflict, without end.

She acted a bit surprised, but then said she made some phone calls today. She called Lutheran Services and recommended that they end this quickly and not make us jump through all the hoops--that it is too painful and destructive for us all, including DD. She recommended that they not pursue RTC and that if they do get her into an RTC that they start the dissolution proceedings while she is in a residential center. She recommended getting DD out of the house as soon as possible, before things get worse. She also recommended that any further therapy be with DD only with the purpose of preparing her for transition and trying to help her learn what role she played in all of this and what she might try to do differently next time. She does not want us to do family therapy anymore--trying to preserve the family--whether it is done through an RTC or through individual therapy. She said that some kids are just not adoptable and that DD may do very well in an institution setting where no one pressures her to bond. Where she has some stability and intensive therapy and guidance. She started the wheels in motion. Tomorrow there is a conference call between the therapist and the staff at Lutheran. She then wants me to call in on Monday to see what options there are and what decision Lutheran makes.

Much like the miscarriage last month, the primary feeling is relief, but there is also a deep pain and a sense of severe loss. A death, if you will. A death of a daughter I've never known, and never will.

The therapist then spoke to DD alone to prepare her for the upcoming events. DD emerged in tears--not for us, but for her school. She was mad. She is ready to leave us, but requested a foster home in our neighborhood. The truth is, it will not be easy for CPS to find a place for her, and they most likely will not grant her request. While I wish her no ill, I really prefer that she NOT be at the same school or in the same neighborhood. We live in a small suburb--too small. In a couple of years, she and DS will both be in High School. I selfishly do not want them in the same school, and I can't imagine running into her in the neighborhood, or local stores in the coming years. That would just be too hard. This will already be extremely difficult as it is. I know that she wants stability, and I completely understand that, but I don't think she has thought through what staying in this area would really mean for her either.

The therapist made it sound like she could be removed pretty quickly, but that the dissolution might take months. I guess I initially envisioned this happening after the holidays. It will be odd if she is gone before Christmas, but so much less complicated for so many people. I do, however, worry about my young nieces and nephew. I'm not sure how they will take this all in. I don't want to hurt them, or frighten them. I'm sure that for the rest of our lives that everyone we know, including them, will at one time or another describe us as the "couple who returned their adoptive daughter after two years." I know this, and I understand this. I would do the same.

When we first read DD's bio, during the adoption process and read that two families tried adopting her and each returned her after 6 to 8 weeks, we were mortified. "How do you return a kid?!?!? This is not a puppy that you take back to the pound! What kind of heartless people were they?" Now I know that they weren't heartless at all. They just saw the signs much clearer and were much more honest with themselves about the level of emotional disturbance this child has and honest about what they knew they could not handle. They did not listen to CPS or the well-meaning CASA worker who dismissed the frightening labels already adhered to DD. They saved themselves and DD from a long, drawn-out failure. They ended it quickly. They both also blind-sided DD--giving her no warning of thier intent to disrupt the adoption process. She came home to packed bags at the door, or was picked up at school by a CPS worker and taken to a foster home.

In wanting to be honest, and show her some respect, we are staying pretty open with her. We are not sure that she is mature enough to handle the truth, or that we are doing the right thing by keeping her informed, but I simply don't know any other way. There is no nice way to remove someone from your house--especially a child. This is all just so ugly.

Picking Fights

For the past several weeks, DD has been trying to pick a fight with DH every morning as they prepare to leave for school/work. I leave for work before her morning routine begins, and DS is already at school for before-school wrestling practice. Every afternoon, when he picks her up, she tries for more. He has learned to just ignore her as much as possible and to not engage. She feeds off our anger. We've been told that our demonstrations of anger help relieve some of the inner anger she denies having, without her having to deal with it herself. We've been told to stop getting angry. To just let go.

So far she has packed her backpack with toys, jewelry, changes of clothes, novels, etc. She has worn ridiculous clothing combinations and she has put so much product (what exactly we cannot tell) in her hair that she looks filthy and greasy. Trying to tell her that she looks better without, only brings scorn, anger, and a total victim persona from her. Plus, she says that she thinks she looks pretty. She is in the seventh grade. She says everyone is mean to her and she is tired of people calling her names, but trying to protect her from further ridicule makes us mean and bossy in her eyes. We have let go of this battle.

In the afternoons, she has on tons of make-up that other girls provide. None of the other girls have on as much make-up as she wears, and sometimes tries to half-wash off--making her look liked a drowned clown. When asked where she got the make-up, she screams that her friends "made" her put it on. The multi-colors of nail polish on her fingers and toes, layers upon layers of colors all mangled and messed up from being touched and smashed while wet, are another new element she's added. We did not buy her this polish. Somewhere she accumulated several bottles of polish that she now applies daily, without removing the old. We have let go of this battle as well.

We have looked the other way, trying to pick our battles, but apparently she needs to feed. Her anger needs release, and if we don't yell at her, she is stuck having to deal with her own anger.

This morning she packed her backpack again. This time with a couple changes of clothes. When asked why she was taking all the extra clothes, she got angry. He pushed for an answer and she replied, "because I don't like what I am wearing." Mind you, she picks out her clothes--I gave up that battle about 9 months ago. We don't know what she was really planning for the clothes. Perhaps she was going to give them away. Perhaps she was going to change for a certain class or a certain boy. We may never know. My husband did make her take the clothes out of the backpack. When he said "fine, let's get going" and put his hand on her shoulder to guide her towards the garage, she spun around and snapped at him. "Don't touch me!!" He said, "What? Let's go" and again she screamed at him not to touch her.

My fear is that she is gearing up for a big confrontation and is preparing to falsely accuse him of something. She is setting him up for something.

Tonight I approached her to tell her that we know she is looking for a fight. [We have been told to stop asking "Why?" The only answer to that is 'because I am a dumb ass," and no one will ever say that, so don't ask why.] She denied it, but then added that she didn't like anyone grabbing her or her hair.

I asked if DH grabbed her or her hair, and she told me no. Anyone who didn't know us might not know to ask her for that clarification. They may just assume, and understandably so, that what she meant is that he grabbed her so she screamed at him. That is also what she hopes you think when she says things like that. So I stated [again, not asking why] that she screamed at him for trying to get her to school on time and guiding her towards the car. She agreed.

I stated that she was packing all this stuff in her backpack to provoke him and to start a fight, so she responded by saying that DS was talking about her while she was at RTC. That DS told a neighbor that she was at an RTC and that he was cussing about her.

This is a great tactic of hers, to deflect responsibility, to change the focus of the conversation, and to blame someone else. DS doesn't even know what an RTC is, or use the lingo. DS never talks to the girl she claimed told her this about DS. Even if he did--that had nothing to do with this conversation. I shut her down saying I was not talking about DS, I was talking about her behaviors. She still insisted to tell me of DS' alleged actions. I yelled her name once, and shut her down. Told her that this time we would stay focused on her behavior. I asked if she was blaming DS for her packing all the clothes. I asked if she was blaming DS or maybe even DH for lying to me during our last three conversations. I asked if DS was the reason that she back talks to DH everyday? OF course, there is no answer to these ridiculous rhetorical questions.

- - - - - - -

This is a tired conversation. This is a broken record. I don't know why I even bother. I just wanted to put her on notice that I am aware of her recent actions and that I hold her accountable for everything she does and that she needs to stop picking fights with him every morning.

I have no leverage--nothing to bribe or threaten her with to enforce this demand to stop fighting. When someone cares about nothing, there is nothing to lose. There is nothing you can take away from them that matters to them. There is no fear of consequences. There is no desire to please or to not disappoint. I have no tools with this kid. So we wait. We wait until all the players agree that this is done. This is over. Or we wait for her to escalate the process by accusing one of us, even my son, of doing wrong by her, and let the police or CPS end this for us all.

From Adopting.Org
"Being accused of child abuse when you are innocent is a nightmare that many cannot comprehend who have not lived it. False abuse allegation is a life-shattering catastrophe. And it happens to foster and adoptive parents all the time.

Why? Because many of the kids they care for have emotional, mental and behavioral problems. Some of them will use false abuse accusations as a weapon or a tool to get their way. A few are just trying to get attention. Since some of them have been abused in the past by former caregivers, the details of their accusations can sound very convincing."

Group Therapy/Parent Support Group

Probably not the result they expect…

Saturday morning we attended our first parent support/group therapy session with our therapist. She has a group that she has been seeing for years, and while they don’t currently have room for another family, one family could not make it this weekend and we could attend in their place. There were three other families in attendance—each at different stages of their adoption experience, but all having had their kids for 2-5 years. We had so many similar experiences with our detached kids, but with us being the newbies, they focused a lot of their attention towards us, as requested by the therapist. She explained to them that we were at a very difficult part of our relationship with DD and that we are pending dissolution, if none of the current intervention efforts from Lutheran Social Services succeed.

We watched all the women and one man grab for the tissues as they shared their experiences—their pain, their frustration, their disappointment, their guilt, their sense of failure, their sense of obligation, their sense of despair. Two families had familial kids—nieces or nephews they took in from an irresponsible sibling. These families had a greater sense of obligation, and the non-blood relatives were really struggling with the decision to keep this damaged child in their homes, but didn’t want to disappoint their spouses who were also struggling with the decision, but felt a stronger drive to succeed—somehow.

One woman in particular finally let the tears flow easily as she talked about her sense of loss from the whole experience. She felt, as we have, the loss of friends and family who are no longer comfortable spending time with them because they do not know how to handle the kid or how to react to how the parents handle the kid. She admitted that she is now in weekly individual therapy, on top of weekly family therapy, and once a month group therapy. This is a woman who had NO THERAPY until they took in her husband’s nephew.

All the families tried to encourage us with little quips like, “OK- so today was rough. Tomorrow will be better!” and “finding the right combination of meds made a huge difference.” These are families who know exactly what we are going through. They truly have the exact same frustrations and confusing thoughts, and guilt about how to handle this situation—and they were doing their best to be supportive. It all felt more like a “misery loves company, so don’t leave me” campaign.

We listened to them all. We watched them all lose it at one time or another. We watched them all smile and encourage each other, and encourage us. They laughed at the shared pain. They laughed at the progress and regress they have all seen in each other’s kids over the years. Not one could say that any growth or progress they witness ever stuck 100%. They all regress at some point—maybe temporarily—but always. They all talked about the constant need to alter the med dosages and combinations, to accommodate changes in the kids. The meds never stabilize. One talked about his kid’s four stays at a Residential Treatment center and how the last time really helped—although he and his wife were still struggling on a daily—sometime hourly basis. They all talked about the things that they no longer do because they can’t take the kid along and no one wants to baby-sit the kid. They talked about abandoning expectations as a coping mechanism. They talked about the monster inside of them that they never knew existed—the monster that would rise in reaction to the kid’s behaviors and how shocked and disappointed they were that they had this monster inside them. But--------- it was all “so much better now” and we should “just keep trying new things.”

In the final minutes of the two hour session, the therapist asked if this session helped us at all, and would we be interested in returning when there was another opening. I turned to the woman in multiple therapy options and stated:

“You’ve had your kid five years. You got him when he was 5 and with all the therapy, treatment, love, guidance, and the ‘right combination of meds’ you are still struggling."

To her husband I said, "Your wife is in tears here, trying to figure out how to ‘survive’ this”

I turned to the man, whose wife was sick at home, and who adopted two brothers:

“You’ve had your kids since they were 1 and 4 and still have problems after 2 years of therapy. You talk about fearing when your boys get to the age of our kids, well I fear my girl getting to the age of other kids I’ve learned about. Teenage kids who do turn violent against the family; who do make false accusations to authorities; who do destroy your home and get in a psychotic state so that the police have to remove them from your home. I’m told it is not a case of ‘if,” but a case of ‘when.’ I am not seeing any hope here. I’m more frightened than before. I thought, ‘if we had only known sooner, perhaps we could have helped her more,’ but you had your kids earlier in their lives and you KNEW earlier than we did EXACTLY what their diagnosis was, and yet, here you are, years later still struggling on a daily basis, with the decision you made to bring these kids into your home."

"You all seem like really nice, loving people who are being tormented because you are responsible adults and you wanted to love and you wanted to help someone. This is not what any of us expected. Yes, these kids are damaged through no fault of their own—but it wasn’t our fault either and no one within the system is taking this issue seriously enough to give these kids any real help. We are at the point where WE now need help. WE need therapy. I guess I am selfish. I want something more from this relationship other than the thought that this kid might be better off with me. I’m certainly not better off with her. I can’t look past all the damage she causes me and my family. I can’t just ignore or tolerate the daily drama and conflict and the fact that it will all only get worse.”

I left there totally drained and more convinced than ever that this will not work. There is no “fixing” or “helping” this child. I do not now have, nor have I ever had, a daughter. I have a hostile ward in my home who cares nothing for me or my family, and the state knows this and continues to set-up other families for the same experience.

There are many successful foster adoptions in this country—probably the majority of cases, but there is an alarming amount of well-meaning families out there, who do not have completely altruistic intentions themselves—they also have expectations, dreams and hopes about a new child in their family—who are being tested, tormented, and pushed to their limits. Everyone agrees the “system” must change, but nothing real is being done to change it. No one wants to publish the facts about Foster Adoption for fear that no one will want to adopt these kids that desperately need loving homes, but perpetrating the myth of how beautiful and life-fulfilling foster adoption is while delivering severely damaged children to unsuspecting families and communities should be criminal. Hiding the truth is what will make it harder and harder to get anyone to adopt for fear that they are not getting full disclosure on a child—a child that may be perfectly adoptable or may be so severely disturbed that you will never bond or find any peace or joy with them in your life.
There are no decisions to make today. We still need to play the game with Lutheran. We all know it is a game—possibly a stall tactic, as we jump through all the prescribed hoops—but we all seem to talk with each other knowing what the ultimate conclusion will be.

Life as usual?

It's been a few weeks since I posted. Just too much going on--just like everybody else.

As a follow-up, Gio & I went to the OB/Gyn the following Friday. They did another ultrasound, and as I knew, there was nothing there. They scheduled me to come back in in mid-October for a follow-up on those cysts, which were still present. No need for a D&C though, so that was good news.

As for Lutheran Social Services, well part of the plan was that we apply to get DD into a Children's Home. The Case Manager could not really explain the difference between a Children's Home and a Residential Treatment Center, but we made the call as directed. I talked to the intake manager and just from our conversation it didn't sound like this would work, but he asked us to fill out the forms and apply anyway, just in case. So, some more late nights of filling out forms, researching information, and faxing off everything, then waiting for a decision.

What we learned is that while an RTC is for kids who are falling out of a family, Children's Homes are more for families that are falling apart and their kids need a safe place to go. Some examples might be families that are going through hardships because of financial situations, medical situations, death, divorce, whatever that is keeping the family from taking care of a kid. The kids stay a minimum of 6 months and usually up to 18 months, although some kids may stay for 2-3 years. Not sure how any of this would help to make this kid my daughter, but we have to try everything, so we applied. Days later we got the call that no, she indeed did not qualify. She has too many issues and they are primarily a basic-care facility. No surprise.

Lutheran also set us up with a new Psychologist to provide a new psychological evaluation for DD. The new psychiatric eval is not enough. Lutheran plans to use the eval to apply for a different RTC. I told the case manager that if she did get in that I would not allow any drugs for at least a couple of weeks--that I want them to help her deal with her issues, not just drug her into sedation and announce that she is "stable." Chances are though, that she will not be accepted to another facility because she is not severe enough. She falls somewhere in between what a Children's Home will accept and what and RTC will accept.

In the meantime we are working on the other step of the "plan" by meeting with a NEW therapist. While I like this therapist I am just not sure what she will do that will be different from the other 20 therapists, psychologists, and psychiatrists DD has seen. So, we continue to go through the process, waiting to see if DD will fight to stay in the family or will passively let it all go. Don't know.

With all this drama pretty much behind us, I am finally able to focus on my job again while I am at work. And just in time, because I've been hit with some big projects. I've also been distracted with DS' recent interest in modeling. I helped do a photo shoot two weeks ago and really got the shutter bug. I've gone a little crazy on eBay lately and should have my home photo studio set up before the holidays.... ;)

God has a WICKED sense of humor

OK - So I captured all of this last Saturday while purging my soul to a friend. I'm too tired to re-write it, or even edit it to look fresh for my Blog, so here is the letter I wrote:

WARNING: Don't be drinking a beverage as you read the next lines...

I'm pregnant. Personally, I don't think I will be for long as I am spotting like crazy, but I went to see an OB/Gyn yesterday and they did a sonogram and it all just became way too real. The whole office staff were way more optimistic than I am. They didn't seem to care about the spotting, or my age, or all the maintenance drugs that I take. They really freaked me out thinking that this may actually be a viable pregnancy and I may need to consider the reality of giving birth shortly after my 45th birthday!!!! I will know a lot more on Monday, when they get back the blood test results. Basically - here's what happened.

Having Polycystic Ovaries, I really never had a regular period, however, since moving back to Texas, for some reason I have been pretty predictable--about every 30 days. So - four years of stability sets up the scenario. August came and went without a period, and the initial physical symptoms of pregnancy are similar to starting a period -- a little crampy; tender breasts...So while I was "late" I thought I was still not yet in menopause. Ha! Well, two weeks later I started to get a little worried.

The long running joke with DH and I, who have tried for YEARS to get pregnant, is that as soon as we buy a home pregnancy test, I will start. Usually works. So DH picked one up on the way home. Wednesday morning I took the test, set it down on the tank behind me, then had an indication that I was starting my period. Even half asleep I had to laugh, thinking this time we had to do more than buy it, I had to actually administer the test to jump start my cycle. Then I turned around, and the stick had two blue lines. I grabbed the box to look at the results sample and two blue lines was not what I expected. I only saw two blue lines once before in my life, and that was when we learned about DS. I was shocked, but assumed that regardless of what the test said, this was about to be over. Looked like I was starting my period and this pregnancy would not be.

But nothing happened with me the rest of the day. Now I got scared, thinking of all the things I've done and the meds I've taken, and my age and...oh gosh...how could this be. My body should be a hostile environment for an embryo. This just can't be.

The next morning--nothing. No spotting, no period. Nothing. At lunch time, I got in my car and called my Gynecologist thinking they would agree that I am not a good candidate for this and it is likely over, but they started talking about all the clients they've had in similar conditions who had normal pregnancies and healthy babies. Ugh! So, not what I wanted to hear. Now I was really confused. I called DH and just lost it on the phone, but he was so supportive and encouraging, and calming it just made me cry. So, here I am in a Pet's Mart parking lot, eating a Schlotzky's sandwich (I never tasted it), talking on the phone, and freaking out on the state of my life. While talking to DH, my other line is ringing and it is Lutheran Social Services talking to me about a new therapist for DD and their efforts to preserve the "family." It was all too much.

So, I drive back to work thinking 20 steps ahead and trying to figure out daycare, finances, bedroom situation at home, names for a boy or a girl, way too much too soon, but that is the way my mind obsesses in crisis mode. I get back to the office, go to the bathroom and AHA! OK - this is definitely over now. Whew! I put in a tampon and go to several back-to-back meetings all afternoon. While away from my desk, DH calls to see if I am OK. The Gyn calls to refer me to an OB/Gyn, Lutheran Services calls, and the new therapist calls. Ugh! My mind is split in so many directions. I get home and tell DH that I think this is over, but when I removed the tampon 5 hours later - nothing. What does this mean?

So I call the OB/Gyn on Friday and they want me to come in TODAY! At lunch I let a co-worker/friend know how much I am freaking out and she offered to go with me, since DH can't make it. I didn't think I really needed her there--I've had so many sonograms with all the fertility attempts that I wasn't really worried. She said she would be there more for the emotional impact-regardless of what they say the outcome may be. I reluctantly agreed. In the end I was so grateful that she was there, if nothing else, to be a witness to the freak show that is my life.

The man who did the sonogram was in his 60s and has done tens of thousands of these. He asked what was up and I said, "I'm 44, I'm not supposed to be here." He said, "So what? We have tons of moms over forty, and even older than you!" I said "yeah, but look at all these meds I am on." and pulled out a big baggie with my four prescription bottles in them. Again he said, "So what?" These little guys are pretty resilient at this stage and we've had mom's on even stronger drugs than this that had perfect outcomes!" Again I protested saying, yeah, but I am spotting off and on and..." He cut me off and again said "So what? We've had women in here constantly bleeding, not spotting, who've had perfect babies!" It may sound like he was being confrontational, but he was not. He was a super-happy, enthusiastic man trying to be supportive and optimistic. We were all laughing. My girlfriend was already holding back tears. She was very excited for me, and I was just confused and still in disbelief.

When he started the sonogram he went straight to a yolk sac and started measuring. Said it looked very good. We seemed to be off by a week, so no heartbeat. Instead of 6 weeks, 5 days, he measured 5 weeks even. Can't see a heartbeat until 5 weeks four days. All of this was news to me--I wasn't expecting a heartbeat at all, Now my friend is just letting the tears flow. She is 38, divorced, and just went through a painful breakup with a boyfriend and is thinking about babies of her own, so weird dynamics going on here. Oh - and she is a devout Catholic and of course wants all conception to live.

Anyway, I asked the sonogram guy, if the yolk sac could just be small NOT because we are off by a week, but because this is not a viable fetus and I am miscarrying and about to start my period--and that is why we can't see a heartbeat. He gave his disclaimer that he is not a doctor, but after 30 years of looking at these, that the yolk sac looked very healthy and it looked like a good one to him. He firmly believes that because of the PCO that my cycles are off and that is why there is a discrepancy in the dates/age/progression of the pregnancy. He felt that if this was a miscarriage about to happen, the yolk sac would look very different. Now I am truly freaking out. My friend is giggling, she is go giddy. She says to me in that high-pitched, almost baby talk whisper, with a big goofy smile on her face and a look of love and tears in her eyes, "You're having a baby." Now my eyes well up with tears. Not sad, not happy, just scared.

He took tons of pictures of this hostile environment inside me. I have two huge cysts on my right ovary that may or may not drop off next week (common during pregnancy because of all the hormones). Then I have what might be a big "mass" just under my right ovary. He measured it so he can compare it to a new measurement next week to see if it grows or not. Said most are benign, but it also could be a bowel loop. Pretty. Then he sees all kinds of fibroids within my uterus. I had no idea all of this was going on inside. Whatever. How could this possibly be happening with all these other potential issues in my belly.

Then I talk to the doctor. She is probably in her early 30s, if that. Very nice, and again supportive. She apologizes that we will have to wait over the weekend to get the blood test results, but starts talking to me about genetic tests I may want to do at 12 weeks. She talks to me about health risks to me from going off my meds, and that I need to talk to my primary care doctor. I let her know that I've lost 45-50 pounds (depending on the week) in the last year, and that perhaps the meds aren't as necessary as before. She thinks the weight loss is probably what allowed me to get pregnant now. Anyway...

So, while a home pregnancy tests tell you if you are or are not pregnant, the blood work tells you HOW pregnant you are. If the progesterone numbers are over 20, this is happening. If they are under 5, this is NOT happening. I already feel confident that I will come in somewhere in between that large gap, since I always seem to be a borderline case at everything. Anyway, if the numbers are good, they want me back in for another sonogram. If I start my period over the weekend, then we know what that means. Meanwhile, I still occasionally spot. That is it. Now you are caught up.

So, we wait for Monday, but even if the numbers are good, "advanced" aged mothers are at high risk of miscarriage throughout the pregnancy. I refuse to think too much about any scenario, and goodness knows I have enough distractions in my life to let go of all this baby, or no baby stuff. Perhaps that is DD's purpose in my life, to provide distraction. There has to be some reason, right? I keep asking myself - "What am I supposed to learn from all of this?"

*deep breath*

End of letter.

So, on Monday the numbers were good - 5999 hCG = 5 weeks. That was blood taken on Friday. Today is Wednesday. I have been cramping and bleeding since Sunday. I KNOW this is over, but Dr. "Pollyanna" and her crew still hold out hope. Oy! I am returning for a sonogram on Friday. Then there will be blood tests for weeks to confirm that this is a complete miscarriage. If not, then I get to go in for that oh-so-lovely procedure, the D&C. I truly hope that nature takes care of this all.

Monday and Tuesday were NUTS!!! My phone was ringing like crazy, and sitting in a cube farm surrounded by men, I had to keep ducking into conference rooms to find out if THIS personal call was about my crazy daughter, or my crazy period. I had psychologists calling, gynecologists calling, therapists calling, OB/Gyns calling and Lutheran Social Services calling. I was losing my mind! All the while - severely cramping and trying to work. My personal life has not been this chaotic and dramatic since my second year of marriage or since my parents divorce when I was 14. This has been a traumatic and severely emotional week. I have been on the worst roller coaster ride of my life.

I am grateful that nature saw fit to make things right. Don't get me wrong, I love babies, and would have loved this baby, if it was meant to be, but I was not relishing the thought of attending my son's graduation from high school while enrolling a toddler in pre-K. Or worse!!! Having to attend another stinkin' birthday party at Chucky Cheese at my friggin' age!!! For goodness sakes--I have my hair colored to cover the gray and a few weeks ago I tried Botox for the first time to deal with my friggin' crows feet!!! I looked so stupid in that Ob/Gyn office sitting next to all the glowing pregnant 20-year olds. I am old enough to be the mother to some of those mothers!!! I felt like all of our plans for our life were written on an etch-a-sketch and God just gave it a good shake and said "start over."

Now, I just need this to end. I learned something else new. Miscarriages are not a one day event. This will take weeks to get back to "normal." Just trying to get the Dr.s office to declare - "go" or "no go" is a real challenge. My hope is that tomorrow I won't need to pop 4 Ibuprofen every four hours and that this mother-of-a-period (no pun intended) will end soon.

Now - back to focusing on the kid we already have...DD strikes again...Oh yeah - and start birth control for the first time since 1989.

Drastic Move...

In a desperate effort to get some real response, we called CPS and said we either need help or we need out. Told them we've contacted a lawyer to see about our rights to dissolve this adoption. Told them we've tapped all of our resources within a 50-mile (shoot even 100-mile) radius and that we were done. The state said fine, but you need to call Lutheran Social Services of the South. So we did.

They are a private, faith-based agency contracted through the state to provide post-adoption support. So far, they are extremely friendly and pro-active. They took all of our information (I was up late again filling out forms, faxing, e-mailing, compiling information for them) and they "staffed our case" and are now working on a "Plan" -- basically a proposal of how to try to fix all of this and move forward. We are not obligated to accept their plan, but in the meantime, they get to do all of the legwork in trying to find a solution--find a better residential treatment, find what our options are financially, find different professionals to work with, etc. We may hear something early next week. It just feels good knowing that someone else is taking on the battle. They have more resources and more connections so hopefully they will get better results.

Oh, and DD? Well, she quit Color Guard because the "stretches were just too hard on her knees." The coach was not too happy that she quit, but she didn't care. Said she "blew out her knee." Then she found out they have a trip coming up and she wanted back in. Too late! The Counselor gave her an earful about how her decision to quit effected many people and that she needed to learn a lesson. The counselor has had quite enough of her, too, but her lecture had no effect on DD.

Then, DS, who gets out 15 minutes earlier than her at the High School, is instructed to walk the two blocks to her school and wait for her so she doesn't walk home alone. Well he waited 40 minutes, then called DH to say he was leaving. DH said fine. A few minutes later DD called DH and asked "Where are you?" He returned the question. She decided that she wanted to be the Lead Role in Les Miserable, so she went to the initial audition meeting. Didn't tell anyone. Didn't care if anyone was waiting on her - DS or DH. She has never been in a UIL play before, she has never memorized lines for even small classroom productions because it is too hard, but she wants the lead role. Just delusional. You have to have good grades and no behavioral problems for teachers to approve you to be in any role, as well. A challenge that she does not think will be a problem.

She is already in the red on a behavior contract we created to allow her to earn money to pay for her own expenses for choir - something else she joined when she quit band (because it was too hard). The choir director is extremely supportive of our contract and knows that if DD does not earn the money to pay for the formal dress and the materials that she will not remain in choir. DD knows this as well and has already made excuses and blamed us for her not making her bed and for her behaviors that cost her money. She is still just the victim and we the evil prison guards.

In the meantime, there are a couple of bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon waiting for me in my kitchen...

She's home

What an exhausting and frustrating day. After fighting so hard to get her in there, they made us sign a release against medical advise form. Now THEY think she needs to be there. Which incompetent am I to believe.

I actually talked to some empathetic and seemingly intelligent people today as they pleaded for us to keep her there. These people would not being seeing DD. Too little, too late. Turns out she would only have four 45 minute to one hour sessions a week! What is the point? Why is she living there for that? We can sedate her at home and get her four sessions a week. They UPPED her dosage TWICE without a call to us.

Now I need to run to parent orientation night at the High School. Tomorrow DD will go to Junior High like nothing happened. But I am sure she will tell everybody what happened. I can't save her from herself.

Is it worth it?

So, I called DD today to see how things are going.

Apparently she was throwing up all day Saturday--the day after they started medicating her. No medical staff there on weekends. No activities on weekends. Other than eating, the kids had no scheduled activities. How dangerous is it to have a bunch of troubled kids sitting around idle?

She sounded sedated--not quite slurring, but not her usual tone. I was told she would be given two meds, with an optional sleeping pill at night if she wanted. She said she gets a pill in the morning, afternoon, and two at night--one being the sleeping pill. Four pills. They are automatically giving her the sleeping pill that she was only to have if she asked for it, and perhaps one of the meds is given two times a day. I am not sure of anything, and I don't like it.

I called the therapist to confirm our Wednesday appointment and got her voicemail, where she states her name and her position. She is an intern. The intake biotch was also an intern. A nurse called me to tell me about the meds, but couldn't really tell me why these particular drugs were selected. I wonder when we get to talk to a doctor who is maybe more experienced in diagnosing and working with attachment disorder.

I am starting to hear from more and more people who tell me that these RTCs simply drug and release these kids--some coming home with new learned skills that you won't like, having been exposed to kids even more messed up than them. I'm hearing this from parents and teachers. I am losing faith that they will make any positive difference in her life and we are considering pulling her out as early as tomorrow. All I see happening now is that they drug her, then release her a week or two behind in school. Nothing beneficial.

She also said that she has been in several fights with her roommate who is supposedly bossing her around--probably is, but... So, even sedated she is having issues, and they are still talking about releasing her in a week. I just don't see any benefit to this farce. I am so drained by all of this. I am feeling a bit trapped and helpless. They bill my insurance $550 a day for what?!?!? You would think that $16-$17K a month would provide more qualified care with constant structure and observation and guidance. I think this is one of the biggest scams I have ever witnessed.

I am so stressed that I cannot sleep at night. I am having some kind of reaction around my eyes as well. I look like a bulldog from the extreme puffiness. I've taken tons of Benedryl, used Benedryl cream and antihistamine eye drops thinking maybe it is some weird allergy, but I think it is a combo of no sleep and some physical manifestation of the total anxiety created by interacting with this frustrating place.

DH sees how frazzled I am and is stepping up. He is going to call them tomorrow and tell them to prepare her to leave--pack her up and get their bloody forms ready. He is ready to get her out of there. We will not continue the drugs either. We will pursue yet another Psychiatrist here locally and wait out the 6 months for an opening and see what happens.

If I thought that they might make a difference and might really observe and examine her over time, then treat her for the months I think it will take to help her, I might be willing to overlook some of the unprofessional areas we've witnessed, and leave her there a little longer. But I get the clear message that they will keep her for a week, two at the most, and that is just a waste of the insurance money, of DDs school time, of our time and effort, and just the hassle of having these idiots dictate to us what we have to do with BOTH of our kids. Meanwhile, school started today without her and she is falling further and further behind there. She described her first day of school at the RTC (they started a week ago) and it sounded so minimal. Reading, playing, singing, catching a frog outside (not related to science). I find it hard to believe that this would keep her up to date with the 7th grade curriculum at home. I think they are doing more harm than good.

So - tomorrow will be an odd day. Not sure how it will all go down, but I suspect more drama is on the way.

On the bright side, I worked from home today so I could see Tony off for his first day of High School and pick him up after. Tony had a great first day of school. He saw some old friends, loves his classes--even the AP English he was dreading, and he liked the food in the cafeteria. He came home, organized his books, gave me papers to sign, then started on his homework. Then practiced for his piano lesson. On days like this I'm so grateful that he is so responsible and self-sufficient. He brought a huge smile to my face and a warm hug to my heart.

Kind of numb...

DD's therapist called me today at work, 20 minutes before I had to give a presentation in a meeting. After spending an hour with DD, she feels like she may be released in a week or so, since she is not a danger to herself or others. So hitting, fighting, biting, scratching, jumping on other kid's heads is apparently not a danger to others. She actually needs to pull a weapon. I don't know.

Then she tells me that DS must be a part of every family therapy session. I told her that there was no point in involving him initially--that first we, as the parents must establish a relationship with this child and that I will not put DS through anything further until we see some progress. She insists he must be part of it since he lives in the house. I told her again I would not do that to him. She asked how old he is and I told her that he turns 15 today! It is his birthday and I need to focus on HIM today. Then she starts lecturing me on the rough life DD has had and how through no fault of her own has developed these behaviors and that I need to understand...I cut her off completely. I was LIVID!!!

"Who do you think you are talking to? Do you think that I do not know all this already? Do you think I am some heartless bitch who doesn't understand all of this? I completely understand and my heart breaks for her, but I am telling you that I do not have the tools to help her. After six years of therapists, psychiatrists, counselors, powerful, frightening medications, parenting, guidance, love, support, rewards, punishments, warnings, threats, loss of priveledges, after all of that energy and effort towards supporting change in her that not one behavior has changed. She is doing the same things she did 6 years ago with no progress and that we need help."

I then reminded her that we have been trying for two years and she has known her for one hour and that I don't care if she thinks I am some over-reactive, uncaring beast, there are deeper problems here than we can handle and that she needs to hang out with her a little more before she starts lecturing me about this kids needs. I was shaking I was so angry, and then had to go lead a meeting and do a presentation. I was still shaking when the meeting started and I was flustered and just all over the place.

Even typing this I am getting very emotional. It took me over three months to get her in there. They want me to go and withdraw her from the Junior High here so they can transfer all her records and IEP/ARD papers there, and for what? A week!?!?!? I am just dumbfounded again.

Then a nurse calls me at home to say the psychiatrist saw her and wants to medicate her immediately. He is putting her on two extremely powerful and heavily regulated drugs. But there is no problem and she still might be released in a week. Tonight she is starting on Abilify and Depokote. She has been on both before with no results. They are both used basically as mood stabilizers.

I am totally deflated, but need to let go of this so I can enjoy my son's birthday tonight and try to enjoy whatever time we have without her. Our options are getting limited in what we can do to help her without sacrificing our family and our health any further.

We are scheduled for a family session on Wednesday at 4:30. DS will be in attendance as we are doing a conference call from home. If she stays long enough for a second session the following week, he will NOT attend as I am not going to pull him out of school to drive an hour north of here for a session that really hinges on her bonding with us first.

Tu Mama es LOCO!!!!

Ever see the movie, Terms of Endearment, with Shirley MacLaine and Debra Winger? There is a scene where Shirley MacLaine is trying to get the nurses to give her dying daughter (Winger) some pain medication and when they are moving too slow she goes a little psycho on them.

OK - I went "Terms of Endearment" on thay azzez.

Facility number one was driving me crazy. When I tried to call yesterday to confirm that they had all they needed from me or from our therapist or our doctor, their phones were not working for the second time in fives days!!! I don't know how you run a facility with 120 kids and not have functioning communication devices. It was maddening. And here we are 7 days since our initial contact and I still have not heard from them.

So, yesterday I called another facility and started all over again.

I cannot believe how difficult this process has been. I told my intake nemesis that she is ALREADY APPROVED and this biotch was almost yelling at that she is NOT APPROVED. I was going wiggy! I was just dumbfounded. This woman refused to make a 1-800 call that would take 5 minutes to verify. Instead she kept telling me that since DD has not been previously hospitalized, was not attempting suicide or threatening to kill us, that she did not qualify!! This is the battle I fought with the insurance company for two months and finally won. I kept asking why I had to wait until it got to that point before anyone would consider helping her.

This back and forth and her sassy attitude had me going a little psycho on the phone. I was saying things like:

"I know that this is not your typical approval and admission process. This case is a little unconventional, but if you will PLEASE just make the call. I am begging you. I'm sorry that she does not fit your little checklist but I am telling you that she is approved. Do you think I am making this up?!?! Do you think I am lying? Why would I do that? What would that get me? You would figure it out real quick and I would be stuck with a $17K bill for the month!! I am begging you to step out of the box a little and have a heart and help a mother out. This has gone on for months. I want to get her settled before school starts. I cannot believe this. I have a therapist, a psychiatrist and an insurance company all saying she needs this and it is approved--the money is in your bank as soon as you say yes--and you keep telling me that my insurance will not approve this! I am loosing my mind here. What is it going to take for you to listen to me, believe me, and take a little action beyond asking me a list of questions and dismissing me?"

She got real pissy and said, "Fine, you can come in for an assessment if you want, and when we submit the papers your insurance is going to deny coverage."

I said, "FINE! So when can we come in?"

"Tomorrow, if you want!"

"FINE! What time?"

"Can you be here at 11:00?"

"I can be there whenever you say!"

"So, then can you come in at 10:00?"

"Yes - Definitely. What do I need to bring?"

She starts going down a list of documents, thinking it would be overwhelming for me to pull all this stuff together. She really doesn't understand me. I have had her papers ready for months. Then she tells me to bring a suitcase with 5-7 changes of clothes. I said, "Wow! Tomorrow bring a suitcase? Do you really think it will happen that fast?"

And she says, "NO! I don't think it will happen at all, your insurance is not going to approve this, but as long as you are coming in you might as well."

So I asked, "Why will you not call them? What is so difficult about this? How hard would it be for you to dial them up?

She said, "I'm not going to call them because they are going to say the same thing to me that I am saying to you. She is not going to be approved!"

_ _ _ _ _ _

Maddening, I tell you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

So, I feel like she scheduled the assessment just to placate me. So I stayed up until 1:00 A.M. faxing them tons of papers. Pscyh evals. School assessments. Foster parent observations, letters from the therapist and psychiatrist both recommending RTC. Then this morning I went in with everything I have--a two-foot high stack of papers. I had everything on their checklist, which freaked them out. They said no one ever has everything; they usually have to fax something within 24 hours.

It was a long day, but eventually it all went through, and my nemesis had to come back into the room we were locked in all day and act excited when she told us, "OK- So she's been approved, as you know, and we are getting everything set up."

We then met with a doctor, two nurses, the school counselor, a cottage nurse, and got a quick tour of the place and said our goodbyes. DD was just giddy--she was so excited. Her treatments start tomorrow--as do her school classes.

The whole day was pretty surreal, and DD already called to say hi and ended with an "I love you, Momma." Which is such BS and all for show for whomever was watching her make the call. She also asked if we could write letters to each other. We must look so much more appealing to her from a distance. I am very curious to see how these 30 days go. At the end, will they recommend another 30, or will they release her? We have no idea. Insurance only approves 30 days at a time, which makes sense, but will cause a little anxiety at the end of each month.

However long they keep her, I just hope it has an impact.

Patience is a virtue...

...in which I am lacking.

No one seems to feel the same sense of urgency that I do to get DD enrolled before school starts. If there is to be any kind of smooth transition back into this community and into our home, she needs to start the RTC before August 27th--when school starts. Otherwise, she will start, disappear, then reappear before Christmas, leaving her open to even more questions to her where-abouts in the interim.

Hope is fading that she will be admitted this week. Maybe next week will work, or even the following week. I am letting go, since I cannot control this. On Monday, if I have not heard something more, I will begin to bug the facility again, but the message so far is pretty clear. We are supposedly moving at warp speed compared to other cases, and 2-3 months to get things set up is a quick turn-around.

Meanwhile, my intake contact is way too mellow for my tastes. He doesn't do anything until I call him at least twice, possibly three times. He constantly forgets what he said he would do, and even though he tells me all the things that I need to send to him, and I send it immediately, he doesn't bother to check the fax for days, to see if he received what he supposedly needs to take the next step. He doesn't know how to spell our name (it is all over the faxes he requested from me). He forgets that I already gave him some info, like insurance numbers, ss#, fax numbers. He forgets that he said he would send something--something that I need to take action on to move forward. When I call to remind he, he scolds me, misunderstanding what I am asking for, then realizes that HE is the one who said he would send this stuff to me so I can jump through yet another hoop. He is driving me nuts. I think he is stoned. And maybe you need to be stoned to deal with a facility full of aggressive, challenging kids. Maybe this is why he is there, and I am not.

So...we wait. She will start school on Monday, and make all kinds of decisions and plans as if she will be around long term (she announced in therapy yesteday that she will be in the Color Guard this year--news to me and again, somewhat delusional on her part), and then she will disappear from her classes without any explanation to the students. Not what I would call an ideal setting for a quiet return later, but apparently, nothing I can do about it now. We will just cross that bridge later.

They called ME!!!

The insurance company actually called ME at 5:45 PM!!! I didn't have to hunt them down, yet again! They got the fax from the therapist and called to approve Residential Treatment!!! They agreed to short-term, (4-6 weeks) with monthly telephonic reviews to assess if more time is needed, based on medical neccessity and recommendations of the RTC. I can definitely live with that!

The other good news she gave me was that while I thought we would be paying 20% of the cost, there is a maximum out-of-pocket that is a huge relief! So, first thing tomorrow I am on the phone trying to get something started as soon as possible. School starts August 27th, and I would prefer to have her not start then disappear. Cross your fingers.

Tonight is parent orientation night at the high school. I think I might be a little distracted... Tomorrow, DS has a half-day freshman camp to learn the lay of the campus and what to expect on day one. I can't believe my little boy is in High School.

Oh the DRAMA...

So, it WAS too good to be true. The insurance company now has new hoops for us to jump through.

So, when we saw the arrogant Psychiatrist in early July, (all of the other insurance approved Psychiatrists within a 50-mile radius were either not taking new patients or were booked for 6-months out and would not schedule anyone new at this point)we asked him for a letter or recommendation to get DD extra, more intensive help. At our second appointment he did - he sat and hand scribbled a letter on his letterhead (whatever!). So, now that the vacations are out of the way and I have all my ducks in a row, I pursue the facility that the insurance company suggested. The facility informed me that I did not have what they needed. I called a second facility--same response. So I called the insurance company wanting to talk to my assigned case manager. No one at the insurance company knows what I am talking about and they never heard of her or that role.

Deep breath.

I was transferred through five people spending over an hour on the phone, almost loosing it while hiding in a conference room for privacy at work. Turns out the letters won't work. Here is the criteria: She either needs to be in a psychotic rage and the police take her to the facility, or she needs to threaten to hurt herself or us. I call these the three deadly criteria. These are all behaviors that we have been warned WILL occur around age 15-16. No one denys that. Not even the insurance company. The only other option is to get her a current psych evaluation, which leads us back to the issue of no one being available in town but the ass that told us, in front of DD, that it was too late to help her, that she is too old at 12, and then told her that these facilities were like Prison. Nice, huh!?!? No wonder he had availability.

So, we now have an appointment in late September with a Psych in a small town about an hour north of here. That is the best we have so far. The fifth person I talked to at the insurance company thought that maybe having her current therapist and even the arrogant ass call the insurance company might help expedite approval for her to go to an RTC.

Meanwhile, DD is BRAGGING to everyone that she is going away to boarding school where she will get 3 hours of therapy everyday. Oy!

As for DD - we had an almost flawless vacation with my cousins except for the daily dramas that centered around DD. The dramas built with intensity over the week, culminating at the end with me requiring her to stay within two-feet of me for the last day and half. Much as I wouldn't allow a two-year old to play unsupervised, she needed supervision. It was painful, exasperating, and embarrassing. I felt like I had inflicted her on my family. Honestly, almost everything else was perfect! It really was a great vacation, but the intense outbursts, inappropriate behaviors, physical altercations, constant bickering and just overall hassle of managing her was a constant thorn in our sides.

School starts in three weeks. I really don't know how to prepare. So many questions about her future, but I guess I just need to go on as if the RTC were not an option and buy her all new clothes and school supplies. If she is later accepted to an RTC I know that they limit how much personal stuff you can take, but I just don't know exactly how limited.

Yesterday we attended an informal parent support group at a local fun park/arcade. The kids ran around playing with each other while the parents sat and shared and vented and supported each other. Much to my surprise, a woman that I have chatted with on Adoption.com and of whose work I read and copied from the site, was there. We had so much to talk about. She has two biological kids and adopted a half-brother/sister sibling group. The 14-year old son is currently in an RTC and the 12-year old daughter is giving them a real work-out. They didn't notice how pervasive her behaviors were when the son was at home, because his behaviors were so much more evident. The police were out to their house a couple of times, and the father was accused of abuse. The kids were taken, and an investigation showed that they were innocent and both kids were returned. We were constantly interrupted by someone's kid needing something, so it was frustrating trying to chat because I wanted to hear so much more. We swapped contact info and will be getting in touch soon. They don't live very far from us. Small world - considering that is an international site.

Possible Hope

I expected our biggest struggle to be with the Insurance Company (isn't it usually) and it still may be, but we now have the authorization for the second step, which is to have her admitted to an in-patient psych eval (1-5 days). I doubt they would keep her more than 24 hours, if at all. She is not in a psychotic rage, and doesn't really need to be observed to that degree, right now. There is the possibility that they may not want to admit her at all, but simply do a quick eval based on the evidence we present (her two-foot high stack of files from the foster system, full of previous evals and behaviors) and based on a consultation with her. The timing is a bit off, as we leave for vacation on Monday, so we will wait until we return before pursuing the evaluation. Hopefully she will be OK while on vacation with several extended family members. She sometimes gets a little wound up when there are lots of folks around and she thinks we are not paying attention.

So, the Insurance Company assigned us a Case Manager so we can talk to one knowledgable source and not have to start over from the beginning with a new employee each time we call. She is a clinician and was extremely empathetic and supportive and totally agreed with the plan to get her help NOW before things get worse. She almost made me cry with her understanding. (OK - so I did cry, but I was at work, so I choked it down.)She advised me on what to take, what to say, what to ask for, etc. to get the help we need. I was amazed and so relieved.

We are hoping that maybe we can get her settled before school begins--so that she isn't the kid who started school then disappeared for a while. I think it will be easier for her to return later if she doesn't make an appearance now.

Getting nervous...

So, when DD first came to live with us, I tried to spin some of the crap in her past in a positive light--trying to help build her confidence and self-esteem. Now she is smarting off to us, throwing some of that stuff back in our face! We really are worried about her falsely accusing one of us of something so she can go back to foster care. She has challenged us to send her back if we "don't like it!"

Today was a doozie! This morning, before my DH took her to day camp, she decided to go out front and bounce a volleyball. She left the front door open. My DH went to shut it, and out of habit, he locked it. She was standing right there at the time, and as she was saying, "What if I need to come back in?" and before she finished her sentence he unlocked it and opened it back up. Then she went on playing.

She came back in and he handed her a basket of her clean laundry and asked her to put her clothes away. She stomped upstairs, slammed her door, and slammed her drawers in and out as she put stuff away. He ignored it.

When they got in the car, he told her that all he asked her to do was to put away her clothes. Nothing else. No sweep the floors, pull weeds, clean the kitchen--just put away the clothes that mom washed, dried, and folded for you. The same thing that we ask Tony to do with his clean laundry. And she started mouthing off to him. Things escalated and she told him that 100 other people wanted her, and that we were not special and just kept mouthing until he demanded that she shut up. She kept muttering under her breath all the way there.

When I got home and heard about this I went to let her know that while I told her 30 couples wanted her--not 100 people, (trying to make her feel wanted and loved) that what I didn't tell her was that only 2 couples were approved for her, and that those two demanded new psych evaluations of her. When they got the results, they ran. I didn't do this to hurt her, but to let her know that we are sticking by her and trying to get her the help that she needs. She started mouthing off to me and told me that DH locked her out of the house this morning for 15-20 minutes!! She made it sound like he shoved her out the door and locked her out while she tried to get back in.

Her new Aussie friend apparently lives in a group foster home and now I worry that DD thinks that if she accuses us of some kind of abuse, that CPS could take her and she could go live with her new friend. I called my DH into the room to help clarify the story and again things escalated. She eventually back-peddled and agreed with his version, but I got to the point where I asked her where she wanted to go? Where was it that she would be so happy, and that she could do whatever she wanted? She had no answer.

I let her know all the hoops we are having to jump through, all the calls we are having to make, all the forms and letters and begging we are having to do to try to get her help--and that we are the only ones trying to make her life better, but if she wanted out to tell me right now! I told her I could call CPS and she could leave tonight if that was what she wanted, that I wouldn't fight her. Instead of spending all my time and money trying to help her, I could spend it getting a lawyer to dissolve the adoption, if that was what she wanted.

She went silent. She was mad. She maybe was scared. I forced her to make a decision that moment. Turns out that she would like to stay and would like to get some help. I told her that we would do whatever it takes and pay the price of time, energy, money, whatever to get her the help but that her price was to shut her mouth. That she can't say that she wants to stay then treat us like abusive prison guards keeping her against her will. Lord knows what she told her new foster friend today.

I've been reviewing her two-foot high record that we got from CPS (preparing info to get approval for therapy). She often threatened foster parents that she would scratch herself and tell CPS that the foster did it. She also told the school last year that she wished all the screaming and violence would stop in our house! Fortunately, the counselor knew her as a well-documented liar and knew that when she repeated it 5 times that she was trying to get a reaction.

She is very uncomfortable being held accountable for her behaviors and I fear what she might try in order to change her circumstances. I am so ready for her to move into a facility, before things get worse at home.