From "Survivor" to "Son"

A little over two years ago, I received a text that would affect the next two years of my CASA volunteer work.  A text involving a darling little boy that needed a CASA.

The text was from a case manager I had worked with on my first CASA case with CASA of Central Texas.  Together, we saw the adoption of a wonderful teenage girl into the perfect family for her (A Forever Home).  But this text was not about Kym. 

It was a picture of a little boy, fast asleep, his dark hair swept back, and a canula placed in his tiny nose, with oxygen being pumped through to help him breathe. 

It took my breath away.

And I wondered … how did this case manager have a picture of my grandson?  Taken some several months prior when he was hospitalized with a virus that caused him respiratory distress. The similarity, uncanny.

Upon second look, and the text that followed, the message was clear:

“Ryan needs a CASA!”

A Court Appointed Special Advocate.  Someone who advocates for the best interest of children in foster care. (For The Kids) 

Another text.  This TWO-YEAR OLD is in the hospital because he almost overdosed on methamphetamines.

My heart raced, hurting for this gentle little soul, who, through no fault of his own, lay in a hospital bed.  Fighting for his life. 

And fight he did, for five days.  I later found out, the staff at the hospital were not altogether sure that he would survive.

A foster mom was in place and went to sit with him every day while he was hospitalized. 

I escalated the need to my CASA supervisor, who confirmed that the judge had already put Ryan’s case on a list of children who needed a CASA. 

“Do you want the case?”, my supervisor asked.  My initial response was “YES!”.  But I wanted to give another CASA, one who was waiting on just the right case for them, to have the opportunity to advocate for Ryan while he was in care.

A couple of days later, my supervisor informed me the case was mine, if I still wanted it.

How could I possibly say no?

By this time, Ryan had been released from the hospital and was living in his first foster home.

With the Coronavirus Pandemic in play, my first visits with Ryan were conducted via FaceTime.

His foster mom described him as shy, clingy, playful, and VERY loving. And those characteristics shone through during our calls.  He showed me his room and ALL of his toys.  I read him books.  I showed him my dogs.  And we played games.  All through FaceTime.

When possible, and if it’s in the best interest of the child/ren, children in foster care are placed with a family member.  It means continuity for the child, a familiar face.

A few months later, Ryan went to live with his biological grandmother. 

FaceTime visits became in-person visits and upon my first with Ryan, he gave me the biggest hug.  And my heart simply melted.

I sat on the floor with him and we played.  With all of the toys.  While his grandmother shared how things have been going.

Considering Ryan’s young age, it was his caretakers who I relied on to share information about how he was doing and what his needs were; in this case, that meant Ryan’s grandmother and babysitter.  To Ryan, I was simply “Ms. Sharon” or “Mrs. Miller”.  And someone who would get on the floor and play with him.

I delivered Christmas gifts, an Easter basket, and celebrated his third birthday with him, before he was moved to another family member’s home.

A young couple, who were also related on the biological father’s side of the family.

Ryan’s new foster parents had seen him regularly while he was living with his grandmother, so the transition to their home went smoothly.

Upon my first meeting with them, I immediately liked them.  They were genuine, caring, and despite not yet having any children of their own, they were most intuitive to Ryan’s needs.

Having a grandson just a tad older than Ryan, I was able to share ideas with them on potty training.  And how to deal with threenagers.  We talked a lot about the stages of child development and what they could expect.

And always, always, they had Ryan’s best interest in mind.  His safety.  His well-being.  Exactly what I look for when advocating for my CASA kiddos.

On my second visit to their home, I drove up to their house and Ryan was anxiously awaiting my arrival.  I could see his little face, eyes wide and the biggest smile, shining through the glass door.  He was jumping up and down excitedly, repeating, his foster mom said, my name. As I stepped out of my car, he ran to me and wrapped me up in the biggest hug.

THIS.  Is everything. 

And Ryan and I played.  And played.  And played some more.

During our monthly visits, Ryan and I played chase.  And he introduced me to all of his animals.  He asked about my dogs.  We went to the park, where he challenged my fear of heights by taking me to the very top of the playscape.  

We played with dinosaurs and Pokemon figures.  We played chase some more.  We climbed in tunnels (well … he did – I was too big to fit through them) and played with Kinetic sand (THE most fun!) And we played chase. 

He was Batman and I was Cat Girl (not to be confused with Cat Woman, of course).  I watched him watch YouTube videos and practice the drums. And we went to the trampoline park. 

And we played chase.

I always knew that when I was going to see Ryan, I would get a second workout that day. We played hard. 

Ryan’ doctors cleared him of any long-lasting effects from the drugs he ingested.  This was such a relief!

He attends Pre-K and is on target with other children of the same age.  Physically, he's doing well too.

Seamlessly, Ryan began calling his foster parents “Mommy” and “Daddy”.  They didn’t encourage it, it just happened.  As if he knew that they were worthy of such titles.

It didn’t take long for his foster parents to know they wanted to adopt him.  They couldn’t, they said, imagine their lives without him. 

But first there was the matter of parental rights. 

In most foster care cases, the goal is to reunify the child/ren with their parent(s).  But this was the kind of case where the Department didn’t intend to reunify him with his biological mother due to the degree to which she endangered him. 

The biological father’s rights were terminated early in the case.

And when the county no longer served as his mother’s place of residence, she began participating in services.  Tasks that needed to be done in an effort to regain custody of Ryan.  

Until she wasn’t.

She ultimately relinquished her parental rights voluntarily, clearing the way for Ryan’s foster parents to adopt him.

In the 11 months since, Ryan has had 4 caseworkers. Each one dealing with a growing caseload.  And trying to get up to speed on Ryan’s case.  And then, there was the paperwork.  Files that needed to be redacted.  And evaluations that needed to be completed (along with their own set of paperwork).

That’s where I come in.  Not that I can help with the paperwork.  But I continued to be there for Ryan.  Providing each new caseworker with any info they might need in order to move the case (and more importantly, the adoption) along.  All the while maintaining contact with Ryan and his foster parents. 

And Ryan was thriving.

This loving little boy who loves animals, playing dress up, music (and playing musical instruments), and anime’. He has a smile that will light up a room.  And he’s safe.  And HAPPY!

He’s recently gotten into Karate. And for a four-year old, he shows a surprising amount of discipline.  He can do a kata and has one heck of a side kick.  And don’t even get me started when he throws down “The Hammer”.  I’m just glad I don’t have to spar with him!

A few weeks ago, his foster mom sent me several pictures (she’s always been so good about doing so).  In a series of seven, the very last one shows Ryan holding a picture of a sonogram.  And proudly wearing a shirt that reads, “I’m going to be a big brother”.

I literally screamed for joy.  Thank goodness I was home alone, lest my husband think something was wrong.

When I saw him next, Ryan proudly told me about the baby in his Mommy’s tummy.

The following week, his foster parents signed the necessary paperwork (yes, more paperwork!) to adopt Ryan.  I got the same-size lump in my throat that I did when I knew Kym’s adoption was imminent.

Because of the number of cases being seen in family court, there would be no hearing in front of a judge.  Court orders were routed to all parties associated with the case for signature.  And once the judge signs, it’s official.

While on vacation a couple of weeks ago, I woke up one morning to a message from Ryan’s mom. 

“WE ARE OFFICIALLY/LEGALLY PARENTS!”

My heart swelled three sizes that day.  The grin on my face, unremovable.  My heart was full.

His parents have said they wouldn’t know how to adequately describe to Ryan, everything I’ve been to him throughout these last two-plus years.  Truthfully, I don’t know how to adequately describe how much this little boy means to me. 

I hope to watch Ryan grow into the charming young man I feel he’s destined to be.  To be the best big brother. To be loved. To be safe.

To be a son.

 

*Names have been changed to protect the child’s privacy.