I have been out of the business of child welfare reform now for a long time. There have been some improvements and the voices calling for change has become more numerous and more articulate. There are more professionals now with more professionals sounding titles and well reasoned objective arguments for change. 10 years ago when I laid down my sword, er pen , the majority of resources on the web belong to wronged parents or organizations formed by the those who had been wronged by what then titled it’s self the Child Protective Services. One Author, Mary Pride labeled the then existing system “The Child Abuse Industry”(1) .
Many of the voices were strident, angry and filled with pain. Many of the people or groups who posted web sites or wrote books were struggling to find a grand reason why, a greater purpose for the suffering of their families and the soul rending loss of their children. This all to often led to the promulgation of vast conspiracy theories that may have actually contained a tiny grain of truth but that hurt the creditability of the movement. It is to easy too dismiss what is too easy to dis-believe.
My issues with CPS(2) started 18 years ago and in many way have never really ended. Looking back I was heartbreakingly naive then I thought I could change the world or at least save my own children. In the end I barely got out alive.
And what of the children, the older two Alexis and Lydia still breath but the little girls I knew are dead. Lydia was just an infant 10 weeks old when the strangers knocked on my door, we were still only getting to know one another or bond was still forming, incomplete. She has changed, grown up as is normal and I hope she is healthy in body and mind.
Alexis has changed her name and the little girl who occupied a piece of my soul is gone. She was beautiful and alive. She ran at life eager for each new experience. She loved to give she was kind and even at three selfless with her love. Pets’ stuffed animals, Flowers, she gave her heart to all. She loved to love. We were close, the center of each others world, but ready to expand and let Lydia in. She was funny and intelligent at three her vocabulary included ludicrous and hilarious. She could spell Mississippi. She was the first person I ever loved without reservation or qualifications.
I came to mother hood late by the standards of the place and time. I had grown up the adopted child of an abusive monster. The message of my childhood was that being a parent was a horrible thing, a burden and unbearable sacrifice. I didn’t want children or to do to any child what had been done to me.
When I was 28 I woke up one morning and realized I wanted a baby. I had a lot to give to someone and I realized I wanted to give it to child. I had healed enough, learned enough to be a good parent, to do a better job than the woman who raised me.
The decision to have a child, to reproduce one’s self is the ultimate selfish decision. It is in a manner saying “I am so special, so unique there should be more of my genes in the pool. While we expect t love our children we also expect them to love us. No one, NO ONE, can understand how much a mother loves her child until she becomes one.
I had been dating a fairly successful musician name Dave casually from time to time nothing serious for either one of us. That was not where our lives were. David wasn’t getting famous but he was able to make a living from music. I was the dining room manager at an upscale restaurant. We agreed that in the summer of 1989 that the next year when I was 29 and he was 35 that if neither one of us was serious about anyone else we would have a child together.
The next summer came and timing was critical because I had arranged maternity leave and purchased all the clothing, equipment and diapers the baby would need for the next 18 months so that I could work part time. Looking back I was either physic or psycho because I never even considered the possibility of having a boy. Everything was pink, castles and unicorns, and dresses.
Ultimately David backed out and I was forced to select someone else to be Alexis father. While I don’t regret the choice I made I do wonder how different al of our lives would have been if I had chosen differently.
Alexis Ariell was born March 5, 1990 in Charleston West Virginia.. Her Aunt Tammie was the first person to hold her. Through a long series of events I chose to give her father a larger role in her life than I had planned. He moved to Raleigh North Carolina and later to California. He eventually returned to West Virginia and asked for a chance to be a father and a family. This wasn’t exactly what I had planned but it is hard to be a single parent and I was willing to give it a try. I am sure I wasn’t the perfect parent. All parents make mistakes and I made my share. One of the biggest was the babysitter I hired, Debbie Joseph.
I would later learn from a Case Worker at the child Advocates office, West Virginia’s Child Protective, Services that Debbie had made 35 calls to the child abuse hotline that year alleging that the various children in her care were being physically and/or sexually abused by their parents.
Although the caseworker could not by law disclose the source of the particular allegation against us he made it clear without saying so that our family was call number 36 that year. The Caseworker apologized for the intrusion
TOMORROW PART II
1. The Child Abuse Industry: Mary Pride,Crossway Books (July 1986) I don't agree with a lot of what Mrs. Pride says she often writes from a "Born Again"viewpoint I simply can not agree with. She was one of the first authors to take on the subject of CPS Abuse . She makes some excellent observations
2. Called Children and Youth Services (CYS) in Pennsylvania. My own case arose in Centre County in 1992
For more information on how the child protective services hurt children and their families visit our website The Sunlight Initiative
