I meant to write a post last week about life after CPS. I had planned to write how the experience has changed our lives, mainly for my kids. But, I can’t. Life after CPS isn’t here yet.
Backtrack, right? I don’t think I’ve ever written about why CPS is even in our lives to begin with.
Back in October, we took my son to the doctor for something on his gum. It was sore, and didn’t look right. We got antibiotics and moved along. Then, just two days before his 8th birthday, CPS showed up. Apparently, they were called in because he seemed unhygenic, and ‘smelled’. First of all, this was our main doctor, who we have seen 2-3 times since switching to her office. We generally deal with one of the nurse practitioners. Our son still has accidents now and then, and face it- he’s a little boy! Sometimes, they stink for no apparent reason.
We had been fighting an uphill battle with roaches, as well. That caused us to lose our kids for 16 days. We busted our asses, trying to get our babies home. I was at a loss. One of my worst fears as a parent was coming true. Never did I imagine that I’d actually hear the words telling me my children could not remain in my home. They are well fed, happy, always have clean clothes, and are cared for.
After 16 long, dreary, depressed days, we got the okay for them to come home.
Since, our 4 year old has anxiety. She is completely terrified of sleeping in her own room. She’s terrified of waking up somewhere else, and even a simple weekend trip to my mom’s makes her worried. “You’ll be picking us up soon, right?” “Are we getting taken again?” Words that no child should have to utter.
In November, there was a followup, and I was told that our caseworker was looking to close the case. Awesome. Months passed, and then my husband told me that on January 2, they would be back. Family services would be here to check on the kids, etc.
It was during that visit that we were told we would now get weekly, unannounced visits.
I was floored. They also finger printed my kids, and counted my son’s Ritalin. This weeks visit is over with, thankfully. I don’t have to feel the daily anxiety that they’ll randomly show up.
Logically, I feel I have nothing to worry about. However, feelings don’t always listen to logic. If ever, really.
I grew up dealing with CPS- until into high school. I can’t recall my brothers ever being taken for any reason. In high school we were never threatened with it, either. My step-father was a pot head, a major one, and our apartment more often than not smelled like it. Yet, they never said a word about it. He’d slap on a smile, and they would just eat it up.
Is it because a well off white female doctor called us in?
Is it because I don’t meet what they view as mother material?
Is it because of the age difference between my husband and myself?
Is it because of the area we live in?
I can’t say for sure. We are looking into buying a house in March, and I hope that if they are still checking on them, that they see we are trying to better their lives as much as we can. We took this house because no one would rent to us when we moved to Florida. Despite my husband being retired military, we were turned down by everyone. Spending hundreds on application fees.
We were backed into a corner. We had two young kids to think of, so we took what we could get.
I finally asked my doctor for a referral for therapy, knowing I need it so badly. She referred me to my psych, who only does medications. It took them from back in November to even do this one, and now I’m forced to wait even longer. Having Tri-Care, I have to have a referral. I can’t just call up a therapist and make an appointment.
It’s very discouraging when I’m trying to better many parts of my life at once, and I hit a road block.
I hope to get my learner’s permit next week, and my goal is to have my license by the end of May. We are driving out to Indiana to see my step-daughter and her little family in June, so I think that’s a good place to start.
I’m trying to eat healthier, and get in better shape, as well.
It’s hard when I’m stressed out by the kids, by CPS, and my mental illnesses piling on at once. I’m doing my best to push through them and not let them control my life anymore, and it’s hard as hell. It was hard letting them lead my life, but at least this has the possibilities of me living my life, as opposed to just barely surviving.
I can’t say whether I’ll finally lose the weight that has piled on. I can’t say whether I’ll ever be comfortable about cops or CPS. I can’t say that I’ll ever live a normal adult life.
All I can do is run with what I got.