If you haven’t read pt 1 – find it here.
To pick up where I dropped off — we were taken away from the home and were brought to the social worker’s office – my mom had been questioned for hours while we sat idle in the waiting/toy room until they could come to a decision. Some nice lady came into the room and said we would be safe but “mommy needs some time and you will be staying together with a nice family for the time being. I guess I didn’t fully understand but it was very awkward. We only had the clothes on our back to account for and with no truthful explanation, we were going to a stranger’s house. Naturally, it was in me to protect my siblings from what was about to happen after. We did in fact go to a home together (for the night). But the home had only been temporary until they could come up with a plan for next steps.
The plan entailed us eventually being split up and sent to different homes so it wasn’t too much on the foster parents. Which I understand now, but when it was happening I lost everything, my siblings and my mom. I didn’t know what to say/do. So I stood up for myself, I made no home a pleasant experience for either myself or the foster parents. I had one goal at 4 years old – to be with my family again and I fought! I know when you’re 4/5 years old you should be playing with dolls and/or finding an imagination. I just cried to have my siblings back. After all, I was their caretaker and protector. I am so stubborn, I wouldn’t let the social worker forget it (poor thing). We moved around so much I cant even tell you, how many schools we went to. I have no childhood photos or memorabilia because we didn’t stay in places too long. Eventually, we were placed with family on either my mom or step dad’s side.
This ended up badly as my mom was supposed to be working on drug court and taking state-mandated classes to get her children back. But when you consider the odds – she never had a chance. She was an abused stay at home mom with no income or job experience to back her. She was to find a place to live for a family of 5 and be drug-free for a certain time frame. I couldn’t tell you that she did try or she just straight didn’t but I can tell you she never made it to take us back. She seldom made it to supervised visits, honestly. Well in the mean while, we were making friends and living with cousins who only knew our stay was temporary and made it only obvious by letting us know and said things like “you’re only here until your mom comes and gets you”. Which gave us this false narrative that things would be “normal” again.
There was more drug use in some of the aunt’s and uncle’s houses. Which obviously didn’t pass the inspections and such for our social worker. We ended up getting overnight visits with the step-dad which came back out of no where. I loved him like I would a biological dad because essentially he is all I’ve ever known to be a dad at the time. So I would have went against it had I known what was going to be sexually abused at such a young age.
Years went on before any truths had come out. But we eventually moved again as some of the foster homes weren’t patient enough and I can understand (now) as it can be all too dramatic taking in someone else’s kid that refuses to be nice to you just because. We didn’t like most of the foster homes we were put into.
I could share more stories on foster care and the schooling and so on, but I will save that for my therapist. Needless to say it’s not a perfect system but I am still fortunate I got more chances at a different life than what it could have been.
So I have to say I had to be at least 7 when the social worker decided we should be together after all. I will take most of that credit as it’s all I asked for – for years. We also learned we were Native American from the Makah Reservation and we were sent there because of the ICWA laws in place. We got to see where our ancestors are from and the culture. I was so happy. Not only that we learned we had MORE family. At this time we lived in a few foster homes but none that were willing to take 4 siblings.
Until we were in our 2nd to last foster home who had a respite care taker who had 4 children of her own. When our foster mom would go out of town and she didn’t feel like bringing us 4 she would ask her respite caretaker to take us. It was so fun to go to a home with kids around each one of our ages. The match was perfect. So perfect when that foster home didn’t work out they had asked the respite caretaker to take us. She was a single mom of four of her own but she had a heart of gold and took on the challenge because in her eyes – her kids gained friends. Plus it was only supposed to be temporary until the mom got her ducks in a row. But she never did. It was in fact permanent and the best thing that had happened to me in my entire life (at that point).
In June of 1999 we were scheduled for adoption court – with that single mom of 4 of her own. She worked two jobs and was on call for the 3rd. There wasn’t one selfish thing of that woman and she was only 29 and she was very, very scared, but she did it! We were adopted. I actually interviewed her in 6th grade at the time and I asked her – what it was like to adopt so many kids and have so much on her plate. She mentioned she knows if someone asked her to have 8 kids to only work her butt off at the end of the day, would she do it. Absolutely not. But for the greater wealth for this little family of 4 who had been lost for years looking for a forever home, AND they got along well with her biological children. She knew she only had one choice.
She could not have shocked us more. We were thankful and ultimately she was my adopted mom and she was my hero. Something I had dreamed of for years had come true and it secured everything I had ever worked for and I was gleaming with excitement. No one could take this away from us. Not even the biological mom who gave up on us in the first place. I don’t know what God’s plan was for us. Nor do I want to know but it was a good chunk of my youth that took more maturity than one can handle. As you could imagine there was lots of work to do with counselors and such to get us to a place where were could trust and love wholeheartedly – I made it out of a life of “what could have been”
With every fragment of my being – I am grateful for the new opportunities I received by being adopted by a family that understands me for me, took me as I am and then some. As the next chapters progress, I know I wanted nothing to do with my biological mother. I’m sure if I were to watch a movie on what here side of the story looked like I can change my mind as she was a young mom herself, but in my time I had to forget her to move forward.
I did absolutely fine without her, without a dad for that matter because I had a warm home, warm bed and sisters I got to call best friends in a community where there were people who shared the same ancestors. I got to learn my culture inside and out and grow up on traditions that would have never been possible had I stayed in Seattle.
That is my adoption story. I’m debating if I want a 3rd part. There are more aspects of each of our lives that shape our beliefs and why we are the way that we are. I won’t forget the ones who showed up for me, believed in me, and pushed me in the direction I needed. I will always be grateful for the experiences. I shine for myself and my siblings as an example. But most importantly I shine bright for my son.
My kids will always come first – their well being and their happiness is what matters to me. This is where my blog can speak numbers for me. I think I care for others because I have had so many looking out for me. I have those adoption files from the beginning of foster care and I keep them as a reminder to myself of where I came from, and how important it is to shine for our children.