Providing emergency crisis care for kids through Safe Families has given me new insight into the world around me, the Atlanta outside my insulated bubble-world, the Atlanta that is in many cases less than one mile away.
In February we got our first placement of a newborn baby boy I will call Andrew (all names have been changed). At only two days out of his mother's womb, already Andrew could be considered homeless. His 20 year old mother Anna was unemployed and had been living with a friend without contributing money toward rent. Anna already had a one year old, Kiara, and her friend had drawn the line at two free houseguests. I also think the friend had reservations about adding a newborn baby to the mix of residents in a small apartment. Anna's living situation was made even more precarious due to the fact that her hostess' boyfriend was incarcerated and soon to be released. He certainly did not want an extra little family-of-three inhabiting "his" home. Anna had no money, no job, and also no desire to give up her little boy.
But what resources did she have? Her mom was deceased, her dad was not a topic she was willing to discuss with me, and she had emancipated herself from the State foster care system at the age of 16. Due to her bad experience in foster care, she refused to place Andrew under its authority. She had a smattering of aunts and cousins in the area, but they had their own commitments of time and finances and couldn't or wouldn't help her with the baby.
You may be wondering how she was able to keep Kiara, her one year old. I have learned that a small bit of support can really make a difference. The father of her one year old was, in my opinion, a deadbeat dad. The father of sweet baby Andrew was such a deadbeat he did not even acknowledge paternity. Neither gave the young mom any help. However, deadbeat #1's mother helped Anna out with an occasional 20 bucks for diapers or formula, and would babysit her granddaughter when Anna had something important to do. With just Kiara, Anna could squeak by with food stamps, free housing, and was able to interview for jobs while her daughter was in the grandmother's care.
This small amount of support was the difference between keeping Kiara and eventually placing Andrew for adoption. We had the privilege of raising Andrew for two months and meeting his mom for weekly visits as she tried to improve her situation. Ideally, Anna would get a job, find an apartment, and have hope for her future. But, eventually things got worse and Anna made a decision to relinquish her parental rights in order to place Andrew in a stable family.
It truly was a sacrificial love offering for Anna to place her baby in a waiting family when she actually wanted to keep him. I know it was the best thing for him, since his mom went from staying-with-a-friend homeless to actually-on-the-streets homeless. Even under these circumstances it was difficult to watch her go through the process of making an excruciating decision. It was also a struggle for me to decide not to take out my magical checkbook or ATM card and "solve all her problems" with the stroke of a pen or by swiping a piece of plastic. Through discussion, prayer, and careful consideration of the purposes and policies of Safe Families, Paul and I came to the conclusion not to give her cash (or let her live in our basement). We fed and clothed her baby for 2 months, and gave her help with material items for Kiara, but that was our boundary line.
I really miss Andrew, and I know Anna must ache for him exponentially more than I do. I released my identity and contact information to Andrew's new family, but they have chosen not to contact me.
Just days before being taken out of my home, he had begun to smile. His wobbly smile is now etched in my mind and preserved in numerous photos on my cell phone. I have many photos of Andrew taken with a high resolution digital camera, but the only good smiling ones have terrible clarity and are stuck on my phone. I'll never erase them.
For years I had been living in Happyland suburbia with gates-on-all-the-stairs, a protected place with caller ID and monitored alarm systems. A safe place where all the surprises are good ones. Now I've felt called to pop the bubble and open my home and heart to kids in crisis. It's not all rainbows and unicorns. But it's a good thing.
