Kinship Care Blues

Chris Zollner & Minerva Lohman (pseud).

Kinship care [think foster care, only a relative is doing the caregiving] has been around for a long time, perhaps since Adam and Eve gave birth to dysfunctional children. Cain and Abel might have both left a couple of unrecorded kids who most likely fought like cats and dogs. Recently reforms have been undertaken to simplify adoption and encourage relatives to engage in kinship care. In 1997 The Kinship Support Services Program (KSSP) in the state of California was enacted to encourage relatives to act as foster parents. By 2002 thirty-eight percent of the 89,168 children in foster care in California resided with kin. This was a shift from traditional foster care to prioritizing having relatives serve as foster parents. By no means is this ending traditional foster care, but it is providing an alternative.

Several weeks ago a friend named Minerva asked me about the foster care system. She had a seventeen-year-old niece, Crystal, who liked to party. More specifically, the teenager really, really, really enjoyed meth and was about to give birth to a child she planned to call Luna. “I want to take care of this child,” said Minerva. “What do I do now?” My experience was in foster care, I told her, but many of my cohorts in the foster care system were engaged in an adventure called kinship care, which I described as foster care with a twist. You are under the foster care system; you get medical care for the child, free formula along with some obnoxious rules and regulations, and some built-in-safeguards to keep things on an even keel. For example you cannot let the birth parents have too much time with the child, after all, the children have been removed from the home for a reason and cannot continue to act as primary caregivers no matter how much you are rooting for them.

Minerva became interested because of several reasons:

• Not wanting Luna to disappear in the system
• Not trusting the system
• To keep Luna with family

Minerva was designated the kinship care provider for Luna. I asked Minerva to answer a few questions for Foster Focus Magazine and she agreed.

How did you get started?

My foster care Journey was started out of necessity rather than desire.  We knew our niece had been using [drugs] before she got pregnant, and knew her doctor was aware of it and therefore if she didn't stay clean the child would be taken from her.  Well she decided to use [methamphetamine] with her own father to "celebrate" father's day and her baby was born at thirty-four weeks, six days.  From what I hear, regardless of if you are married, single, etc., if you deliver early they test you for drugs.  Not sure, but that was what I was told in the process.  Anyway, both she and the baby had meth in their system.  Given that, Luna was put into the system.  Because she's family we decided that we needed to bring her to live with us so she didn't get lost in the system and that she'd be able to be loved by family from day one.   When Luna's grandmother made the same… choices at 18, our nephew was in the system for more than a month before the family got to see him and we didn't want that to be the case for Luna.  So... here we are.  Basically it began with a bang.... get the house ready she's coming. 

Tell me about the day you finally got Luna.

Well, my daughter was born in May, and my parents were finally able to come visit.  They arrived on July 2nd.   We got the call July 3rd that Luna was being released from the hospital.  Still hadn't had the home check although we'd told them they could come anytime.  So at 3 pm on the 5:30 they show up to do the home check.  Seriously it is a joke. She walked through the house looked in all the rooms, barely a peek, nosed through the medicines, glanced at the back yard.  I had to remind her we had a gun on the property so she could see the [weapons] safe.  She never would have even looked in the garage if I hadn't said anything.   The only real issue was we didn't have a CO detector (which we find amusing because we thought it was and we were supposed to have one for the mortgage refinance, and the detector we had passed their "inspection" so we were surprised that it wasn't one.   So Hubby got one on the way home.  Once it was in the house she cleared the house for Luna to come home and told us to send her a picture when it was installed.  We also needed better security for the chemicals, so we had to install better locks on the cabinets.  But because Luna is an infant it was a "needs to be done by this time" item.   We had to go get Luna, so Hubby had to drive 30 minutes to go meet the caseworker.  They at least brought her 1/2 way to us.  So by the time we got her it was already 8 pm.  It was an interesting way to start my parent's visit.   But I was glad to have them because it gave me a chance to get used to having the two of them.

Describe your contact with Child Protective Services (CPS).

What a joke....  They go by CFS now... Child Family Services.  They don't seem to serve anyone.   We were given a "to do" list when they placed Luna with us, since it was an emergency placement we aren't a certified resource family yet.... yes, we are no longer called foster parents in their system.  Anyway.  From day one it's been "here you go figure it out".    No real time frame, nothing.  And there are like a dozen different agents associated with the case.  The mother has a worker, the child has a worker, we have a caseworker... none of them are the same, none of them talk to each other. There is the worker that deals with the financial information and payments for Luna and the one that deals with child support so the state can try and get their money back from the parents for what they are paying to support Luna (which isn't much seriously).  They don't help with payments for childcare, so because I work, the cost of her childcare is on us.  Luckily we have great sitters so they are watching both for what they were going to charge for Helena. [Two for the price of one].  We've had Luna now for 6 weeks; CFS had not been to see her once since they have placed her.  Her caseworker has seen her once, when I took her to the facility for a visitation appointment.  [The mom had canceled this visitation appointment], but CFS didn't notify us until after we were at the location for 15 minutes waiting to talk to someone.  And we knew there was no appointment because [The following highlighted section seems unclear—could you rephrase it]? While I knew that mom wasn't going to show because I am in contact with mom and Luna's grandmother, I went to the CFS facility since no one from CFS bothered to call and let us know that the visitation was canceled.  We want to make sure we are following the rules and doing everything by the book to make sure we don't put Luna's living with us at jeopardy. We were basically given a bunch of information and told ‘Here you go.’ We are supposedly assigned to a caseworker at some point, but have never met one.  I just keep texting the person who came to inspect the house when we have questions.  The amount of paperwork and invasion of privacy to get through the process to become certified is ridiculous.  I mean I guess in some respects it makes sense, but really, they need pictures of the pets in the house?  I was tempted to get a beta just so I could send them a picture of a fish...  I can understand making sure the rabies shots are up to date for the animals on the property, fine, but their pictures?  If they were coming to the house, I could see, but they never come by.  How do they even know how Luna is being treated?  Just because we're family, we're good people?  I really feel sorry for the kids in the system.  They have no voice, they are totally dependent on the people in the system to make sure they are in a good, safe, stable environment, but the people that are supposed to be looking out for them are either too busy, or just don't care enough to check up on them. Granted we're doing this only for Luna's benefit.  If we had started this process just to be foster parents and weren't doing it specifically for Luna, the system is so jacked up we would have quit the process already.  There is literally no support for the foster families.  I don't know if it is different if you become a certified family first, but for an emergency placement where we have had no previous dealings with the system, it is sink or swim. They dump you into the ocean of the system without a life raft and hope you know enough to at least doggy paddle your way to shore.  Maybe that is one way for them to test new families?  See if they are actually willing to advocate for the child... but it is not a fun or easy process.  I'm just glad I was still on maternity leave when we got her so I could do all the running around and getting benefits set up for her.  Which is another nightmare in and of itself.   CFS is not a fun system, it is not an easy system to navigate, and they don't seem to care if you manage to do it or not.

And while not CFS....  the whole MediCal/personal health system is a joke as well.  I signed up in person at the TAD office to have her enrolled in LHP, our health care plan.  Sat there and chose a doctor, they double-checked and made sure he was accepting new patients and off I went thinking I was set.  Well guess what? NOPE!  For some reason they randomly assigned her to a doctor I don't even know who or where they are. Yes, there is a number on the card and I can call and find out, but seriously, that is not the doctor I wanted.  AND to make matters worse, LHP doesn't even have me in the system as someone who can make changes to her account. Seriously?  She has been with us since she left the hospital.  Medical has us as her guardians, I'm the one that filled out all the paperwork, and now I can't change her physician?  And she has her two-month scheduled with the doctor I chose for next week.   Oh, and LHP is saying we need to submit documentation indicating that we are her foster parents.  Medical says they don't need that information and shouldn't be asking for it and that I am the person on the account authorized to make changes.  So...  I'm currently trying to navigate this red table nightmare.  I was literally on the phone (mostly on hold) for 4 hours between the two organizations and was hung up on once because they put me on mute and couldn't hear me talking to them.  

Describe your current family.

Complicated. Currently the family consists of myself and my husband, both older parents (I'm 45, hubby will be 55 this month) who work full time.  Neither of us [have] strict 9-5 jobs.  There are weeks I'll work 60 hours, and he typically works 50-60 hours which annoys me but that's another story.  We have a two and a half year old son, a fourteen-week-old birth daughter (as of 8/14), and an eight-week-old daughter (Luna, also as of 8/14).  It is like having twins in some respects with both infants.  I have been told by several CFS (or whatever they are called in different states) workers that they would never place an infant in a home where there were already 2 kids under 3.  But that seems to not be an issue here.  Which [makes me glad] because I wouldn't want Luna lost in the system.  We also have pets, three dogs, 2 cats, and 3 tortoises.  The tortoise she won't meet until she's much older… but the dogs and cats she will know once she gets out of the infant stage and actually has an awareness of herself and her surroundings.

What are some differences you notice between your foster child and your biological child?

The biggest difference between Luna and our bio kids is she's behind the curve developmentally.  However, both of ours were born full term, so we're at a loss as to if her delays are because she was born early, or if there are other underlying issues from her pre-natal exposure.  She's almost 2 months old, yet she's still in the newborn stage.  Feeding every 2 hours, isn't starting to sit-up even propped, wanting to be held all the time, still pretty much completely in the fetal position.  She is barely starting to stretch out.  By 2 months both our bio kids starting to sit (assisted) on their own, holding their head up unsupported and very aware of the world and their environment.  I will talk with Luna's doctor when I can finally get through that paperwork nightmare and get her to the doctor I chose instead of the random one they stuck her with.   Otherwise there really isn't a difference. As far as we are concerned she's our daughter and we treat her just as we do our other children. 

She had more to say:

She resents having to set up the parent visits.

She described the process of getting a babysitter (temporary care provider) approved as, “a complete nightmare.”

Describing care for the infant, Minerva said, “It has been nonstop. Every time her eyes are open her mouth is open [screaming].”

“If I didn’t already have two kids of my own, I could curl up together with her [around-the-clock], but I can’t, and I feel guilty that I can’t spend the time with her [that the baby wants].

“There are more restraints with Luna than Helena [her biological child]. I can fall asleep with Helena in my arms, but I can do that with Luna,” [because of regulations prohibiting guardians from sleeping with their foster children].

“They even want pictures of your pets. I can understand that they want [the pets’] vaccination records, but why do they want pictures?”

The biggest conundrum is how to refer to her. Technically she is cousin to my daughter… but if we adopted her she would be[come] sister.”

“I’m trying to do everything for Luna that I would do for my own children [making size measurements on the doorframes, stuffed animals, monthly photos.”

She is unimpressed with the whole system. “If I wanted to go into foster care, I would have quit by now.”

“There is no communication. Last I was told we don’t even have a caseworker.

“Is Crystal, the bio mother, [such] a lost cause that they aren’t putting out effort, or are they so swamped that they can’t return a… phone call?”

“Crystal has only seen her daughter once in the month we’ve had her.”

“We were never anticipating having a third child. We are trying to treat her as much like our own child as possible, while maintaining the distance from the fact that she’s not ours… I feel that they [CFS, circumstances and the universe] put me in a boat, pushed me out to sea… without any directions. No map, no oar, no sail, no motor…”

In exasperation, Minerva finally said, “They [CFS] go through your finances, your background… They [CFS] go through everything. I’m surprised they don’t do full body cavity searches.”