The Five Little Ducks Blog

It has been well over a year since I last wrote, and I thought that I should post a quick update before we farewell 2022 and usher in the New Year. Some people have asked about why I haven’t written, and there are a couple of reasons for this.

-Firstly, time. My life has gotten busy in different ways; between studying online (I am undertaking a high school teaching degree) and working part-time (as a Scripture teacher in a high school), I don’t have the same capacity that I did before to write, and if I do have a little spare time, sitting at the computer is the last thing I want to do.

-Secondly, I have felt conflicted about writing about our nieces, because I thought that their stories were no longer ours to tell.

-Thirdly, the primary purpose of this blog was to document our lives as a foster family. I wondered, if we are no longer a foster family, will people still want to read my thoughts and ideas?

This has been an interesting year for us however, and I know that many of you would be curious or confused as you have seen the number of our kids yo-yo up and down; so I will share with you what has been going on for us. I will only share limited details about Miss A and Miss L out of respect for their privacy.

At the start of the year, Miss L was still in our care (her 3 week emergency placement with us had gone on for over half a year), and Miss A was in another care arrangement. Things were extremely tough, and with Miss L feeling confused about where she belonged after being out of our home for seven months, she was acting out and Mr E and Miss R were not coping. We heard about a local carer who could take her, and relinquished care of her for the second time, making it clear that she was welcome to visit us anytime and that we were always on hand for advice and support. Our family got back to normal, and my life got busier as I juggled family, church commitments, uni, and adjusted to my first job.

But things didn’t go well for Miss L- she didn’t settle in well with her new carer, and the carer and foster care agency blamed this on her having contact with my children at school. They made it harder for her to see us, and did not allow her to visit us, or for us to see her without supervision. It was painful. I remember my heart racing as I would go to school in the afternoons to collect my children, just hoping for a glimpse of Miss L. Hoping that I could give her a quick hug and say hello. The agency arranged for Miss L to be collected from a separate gate in the afternoons so that Miss L and I couldn’t see each other. If the school did not comply, the agency threatened to send her to a different school. No amount of emails seemed to make any difference, as I argued that not being allowed to see us was actually harming Miss L’s emotional welfare, and that I believed that she would settle in better in her placement if she could visit us. Meanwhile, Miss A’s placement broke down, and her agency did not respond to our requests to see her. One day, I was cleaning the girls’ bedroom and I came across an item that had belonged to Miss L. Little Miss M, 3 years old and no longer a baby, said to me “L. was our daughter, and you gived her away to Ronnie*”. I absolutely sobbed when she said this. (* name changed)

At times, I asked myself why I kept devoting so much emotional energy to trying to get contact visits with Miss A and Miss L when I was the one who had decided to relinquish care of them. I asked myself whether seeing us really might be too painful for the girls, and whether they would be better off without us in their lives. But I couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of my chest that these girls still needed us. That Miss L wasn’t ok. That Miss A needed family in her life. That they needed to know we still cared. So, I kept fighting. And when the agency didn’t respond to my emails, I went to the agency above theirs and asked them to intervene. Finally, my husband and I were granted a meeting. We both got emotional during this meeting as we pleaded our case. We said that these girls needed family time, and that we could be a positive influence in their lives as their aunty and uncle. I spoke of my dream that we could be their respite carers. Finally they made one concession- we could see our nieces once a month for a supervised visit. We had to accept this as a small win and hoped that it would be a step in the right direction. A few days later we got to see Miss A and Miss L. They were so happy to see us, and we were so grateful to have this time with them.

Only a few weeks later, a new caseworker came on board. This woman was different. She asked us if we would be open to having Miss A stay with us for Christmas because she doesn’t have a permanent placement. Funnily enough, my husband and I had already had this idea. We agreed. The next day, Mr E and Miss R told me that Miss L had been crying at school that day. Her placement had broken down that morning. That afternoon, surprise surprise, I got a phone call. Miss L needed a place to stay. Supposedly she had a new carer who couldn’t start for two weeks. Would we be willing to have her for a fortnight? Of course I said yes.

I made up the spare bunk bed and tidied the girls’ bedroom. Miss L was warmly welcomed home. I had expected that she might be distraught about her placement breaking down, but she seemed genuinely relieved. So was I. Over the following weeks she revealed more to me about how miserable she had been, and I felt angry that the agency had not allowed her to see me for so long, knowing that I am the main person that this girl, who always puts up such a brave and cheerful front, feels safe telling the truth to. While it was hard on my kids to have her back at times, she and I were so happy to be reunited. On one level I wished that she could stay permanently, but I knew that the issues from the past wouldn’t change. It was for the best for our whole family if her stay was temporary.

Two weeks turned into two months. In the final week of school term, she started her transition to her new placement. Amazingly, the new carer is happy to liaise with our family. We don’t use transport workers to ferry Miss L back and forth between our homes; we do it ourselves. She asked me to mind Miss L when she needed to work for a day in the school holidays, and I feel comfortable asking her if we can have Miss L over for a sleepover or take her to a family get-together. When we first talked, she told me she had read Miss L’s file before taking her in, and what had attracted her to this arrangement was knowing that Miss L came with strong family support. This gave me great hope, and I am confident that things will be different this time. I am looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

We end 2022 eerily similar to how we ended 2020. Two years ago, we relinquished care of Miss A and Miss L, mere days before New Years Eve. This year, we were all reunited for Christmas. For a couple of days, we were once again a family of eight with all of our children, and Miss A and Miss L, under the same roof. Miss A and Miss L hadn’t had a sleepover together in 18 months. They swung between bickering and upsetting each other, and raving on to one another about Netflix’s hit show Wednesday (my children haven’t seen it). It was loud, busy and crazy being together again. On Christmas morning, I felt a moment of regret for having them back for such a special occasion and wished that I could have this time with just my kids… But by the time we had our house back to ourselves, I was immensely glad that we had had Miss A and Miss L with us for the Christmas weekend. It was messy and complicated, but when things are messy and complicated for only a short time, they aren’t as exhausting as when there is no end in sight. It was a special time. I am glad that we could give them a proper family Christmas. To make them feel normal again. On Boxing Day, we spent the afternoon lazing about at my mother’s; the kids swam in the pool, then we watched a movie together. Miss L held my hand throughout the movie, tears rolling down her cheeks when it finished as she knew it was time for me to take her home. As I drove the car to her place, I cried too. I cried for this girl who is like a daughter to me, because here I was again, relinquishing care of her for the third time- giving her away- and knowing how much it hurts her when I let her go. I don’t know if she saw me crying. I kind of hope that she did. I hope she knows how much I care about her. But I also hope that she is able to form a strong bond with her new carer, and be happy in her home. By the time I dropped her off, we both put on brave faces and said goodbye, see you again soon. Miss A stayed for another night. She seemed extremely grateful for this time with us, and seemed to relax more as each day passed in our care. Before she went home we played Monopoly together. It was lovely to see her laugh, and speak optimistically about her future- something she doesn’t seem to do much of anymore. “When can I visit you again?” she asked as she left, looking crestfallen. I have said that the girls can visit us for a couple of days before school goes back.

I am so grateful that we are getting to be a part of our nieces’ lives again. While I carry some guilt about not being their forever home; knowing how much we have hurt them, and the ways they have struggled since leaving our care- I have no doubts that relinquishing care of them was the right thing for our family. My husband is less stressed. My children do better. I feel mentally well and strong. Our home feels safe, balanced, and peaceful. As great as it is to be a respite carer in the school holidays, there is no way that I could study or work if I had Miss A and Miss L in our care permanently, because caring for them both was a full-time job in itself.

Once they left us, I longed to be a part of their village again. Now it is happening, and that gives me hope for the year ahead. There is so much more that I could say about 2022 but for today, I will leave things here.

God bless you, and best wishes to you and your family in 2023.