Vol. 6, No. 1• November 2001

I see birth parents differently now
by Jan Helsper

Editor's Note: The names of the mother and child in this article have been changed to protect their confidentiality

I looked at our foster child's guardian ad litem in horror.

I knew she wanted to make sure Hannah's transition back to her birth mother's home was a smooth one, but I really felt she was asking too much. "Hannah" had been with us for one and a half years. She had been five when she first arrived on our doorstep, only a month older than our youngest child, Nicole. Hannah and Nicole had become just like sisters, unable to be out of each other's company and yet constantly bickering over territorial rights and the need for other family members' attention.

Hannah had come into foster care as a result of domestic violence and neglect. She spent many of her young years on the streets or in shelters for the homeless.

When the guardian ad litem (GAL) suggested that Nicole spend some time at Hannah's apartment to help Hannah adjust to her new home, a play date or sleepover perhaps, I was horrified. Even though the father was now out of the picture, the idea of our child spending time in the home of a woman who had been so incapable of providing a safe environment for her own child was just ludicrous to me. All sense of diplomacy left me and I blurted out, "Over my dead body!"

My husband and I had spent very little time in the company of Hannah's mother. We had managed to avoid contact with her as much as possible, allowing social services to arrange Hannah's visits with her mother and provide the transportation. Once Hannah was allowed to visit her mother for weekends and holidays, we arranged for a central meeting place in the parking lot of a fast food restaurant and made the hand-off as quickly as possible.

We both felt a certain amount of resentment towards a woman who had allowed her child to become the victim of abuse and neglect. We could not approve of her previous lifestyle and harbored doubts that she would be able to maintain the path she was currently on.

Despite all she had been through, Hannah had a real bond with her birth mother and as she spent more time with her we could feel Hannah moving away from us emotionally. She loved her visits, and any gifts her mother bought for her were treasured and admired. We could not approve of her mother's taste in clothes and shoes but, true to our training, we kept the negative thoughts to ourselves and were careful to encourage Hannah's respect for her mother.

Hannah was doing well in school. She loved to sing and, being in the same year as Nicole, they were always singing in the chorus performances at the same time.

When the time came for Hannah's mother to start becoming more involved in other aspects of Hannah's life, she wanted to see her daughter sing at the next chorus performance at school. Naturally, my husband and I were there to see both girls perform.

As we took our seats amongst the other proud parents we looked furtively around to see if Hannah's mother had actually shown up. I caught her eye as I looked around. She was there, standing at the back of the hall. As I gave her a quick smile, she hastened over to join us. We shifted uncomfortably in our seats: this wasn't what we had planned on, and we felt awkward and unsure of how to proceed. Hannah's mother greeted us and spoke briefly, and sat down next to us.

The performance began. Hannah sang with her usual enthusiasm. Unable to stand still during the songs, she wriggled and jiggled to the music without a care in the world. As the performance came to a close and the children took their bows, we all stood and clapped. My husband, unable to contain his enthusiasm, hooted and hollered and gave both girls the thumbs up like the proud dad he is.

The sheer joy reflected on Hannah's face was heartwarming. It meant more than anything to her to have us all together watching her perform. I realized that her happiness was so much more important than our comfort level with her mother. Hannah did move home with her birth mother a week before Christmas. By the time she went, we realized that it was the right thing for her. As much as we wanted to stay involved in her life, we left it up to her mother to define how involved she wanted us to be.

Cindy (yes, she has a name now) has done well. She has managed to remove herself from a bad situation, and has proven herself to be a caring mother and good provider. She has won our admiration and respect for accomplishing so many things in a relatively short period of time. She has made great efforts to keep us a part of Hannah's life and, amazingly, she has been very open to other people about our relationship as foster parents to Hannah.

We look back on our relationship, or lack of, with Cindy and admit that we judged her before we really knew her. Cindy is a good person who made some bad decisions in her life, but she has learned from those experiences. We have great faith that she will continue to make Hannah's welfare her priority.

We see Cindy and Hannah frequently and speak to them on the phone several times a month. Hannah loves to call us when something exciting is going on in her life and share her news. Hannah is celebrating her eighth birthday this weekend and we will all be there to help her celebrate, thanks to Cindy's willingness to keep us a part of their family.

We have learned from this experience and hope to prove ourselves more understanding of the birth parent's plight in the future.

Jan Helsper and her husband Richard have four biological children. They have been been foster parents for Durham County since 1998.

Copyright � 2001 Jordan Institute for Families