The Hardest Day of Foster Care

There are a ton of hard days in foster care. Sometimes, it feels like those days outweigh the good ones. Just like in real life though, the hard days make the good days so much sweeter. The day our twins left was by far the most challenging and tough day we experienced as foster parents. That day shattered my heart. That was by far the toughest day, but not the hardest day. The hardest day is the one that people need to hear about. 

We have had eight foster children and done respite for many more. We have had to take kiddos to the doctor often, because let’s be real kids are walking germ factories. If you have your own children, what do you do if they are sick? You call up the doctor and get them scheduled. Easy as that. With foster kids? Not always as easy. 

If the child’s birth parents still have parental rights, they must give consent for the child to be seen. I am pro-birth family/pro reunification if it is appropriate so I completely agree with the birth parents doing this. I have picked up a birth parent on the way to the doctor before and have sat through many appointments with birth parents. Even if it is uncomfortable, that is what the child needs. Plus, the relationship with the birth parents is so important. 

If the child’s birth parents have parental rights, the state can get permission from the court to give consent for medical treatment. 

Once a birth parent loses their rights to a child, the state has sole custody of the child and gives all consent for medical treatment. Sounds easy enough right? Sure, if the child gets sick Monday-Friday 8:00am-4:00pm and not on holidays. 

When pup was very tiny, he got really sick. It was late on a Saturday afternoon that he started wheezing and wasn’t acting normal. I knew he needed to be seen right away. The urgent care across town was open until 8:00pm. I looked at my watch and it was 7:00pm so we hurried and packed up the diaper bag and headed there. Ryan stayed at home with Tripp who was also very small at that time. 

When we got to the clinic, my sweet little pup was still wheezing and he was so sleepy. The front got his information and mine and immediately they the oximeter on his little foot. His oxygen was dangerously low. Immediately they called the ambulance to bring him to the ambulance. Ironically, this is the second time one of our boys was brought to the hospital by ambulance. 

I followed behind in my car as I called Ryan. I tried to call pup’s caseworker, but her phone went straight to voicemail. I called the supervisor with the same result. Pup’s mom still had her rights but I didn’t have a working phone number for her either. 

Once I got to the hospital, they already had him out of the ambulance checking him out and giving breathing treatments. He had pretty severe RSV and ultimately was admitted to the hospital. He was only two-three months old and was still under 12 pounds. He was so little and was struggling so much to breathe. 

The registration lady at the hospital took all the phone numbers I had for his mom, his workers, the supervisor, even my support worker. It was a Saturday night, so of course no one was working. The hospital called the hotline number in Iowa and asked for the supervisor for our county. The supervisor said that the state couldn’t give consent because the mom needed too. It was such a mess because his mom was not able to be reached. It was a back and forth battle all night. Meanwhile, this tiny little baby in my arms was struggling to breathe and medical staff were in and out. 

By this time, it was around two in the morning. The resident doctor said there was a room available. The registration people said he couldn’t be admitted until there was consent. The nurse came in and started asking me how I would feel going home until we could get consent and the signs of respiratory distress. I was completely afraid to do that. He was struggling to breathe as it was. 

I remember feeling so defeated and helpless. I wanted nothing more than to take away his illness and make him feel better. I wanted him to be okay and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t make people answer their phones in the middle of the night. I was so afraid to leave the hospital with him. 

Finally, after about an hour, the resident doctor had enough of pup’s dropping oxygen levels and made the decision to “ask forgiveness not permission.” He said he would “handle Iowa” if they were upset for treating a tiny little baby. Once that happened, we went right upstairs and pup was able to get the treatment he needed. He was in the hospital for four days. 

I didn’t hear from DHS until Tuesday afternoon. 

It’s things like this that really grind me. I was so irritated and scared and mad that something like consent to treat a tiny little infant was so hard to get. No one else was available for him. I’m so thankful that the doctor finally just put his foot down and made the decision to treat, but what if he had not done that? I would have had to bring pup home in that state. I don’t even want to imagine. He was so incredibly sick. It felt like an impossible situation.

Things like this in the foster care system need to be changed. That is not a kid first system. That is not a system that is sustainable. I will keep advocating for these changes to be made. 

The kids deserve for us to never give up advocating and fighting for them. So, we won’t. 

Koko