Today I am sad.
I can’t totally explain all of it (although I’m sure part of it has to do with the fact that I’m behind on some of my meds. Ehhh.)
But it’s honestly a different sad.
Yesterday, we received Baby Z’s ISSP. Which basically means to you, that we know all the background on his case. And his brothers’ case.
It breaks my heart.
It isn’t the worst story you’ve ever heard, but neither is it one that a child should ever have to claim as their own. In short, it really, really sucks. It’s a crap situation.
I hurt for whatever has caused the circumstances in which the family has acted the way they have. I hurt for the hurt they all must have.
I hurt, because while I at times complain about my busy schedule or my inability to sleep or my frustration in my organizations skills, the hard truth remains that I. Am. Privileged.
And my children are privileged.
I don’t have to make the hard decisions like what to feed my kids when we have no money.
I don’t have to act out my hurt in bizarre ways, because there really is no childhood hurt.
I don’t know what it’s like to want, to need, to be neglected, to be abused, to be broken as a result of choices of those who should protect me.
I don’t know these things — but there are kids that do.
And then there are times when kids hurt, and we adults don’t do enough.
On October 4, 2011, the oldest daughter, 16 at the time, took the step that led to the children’s rescue. She left a scribbled note in her counselor’s office begging for help.
She wrote, “I need you to call CPS. … Me and (my brother) are being beat with a board about three and a half feet long. … (Our parents) have promised (the board) to us after we leave your office because our room in not clean. … PLEASE HELP!!”
Two days later CPS and police officers went to the home, a typical-looking house on a quiet cul-de-sac. There, they found signs everywhere of abuse and starvation . . .”
This happened 8 (8!!!!) years after the first CPS referral. 8 years of horrific abuse, torment, starvation and more while the people who are supposed to do something about it sit back, close their computers, and enjoy a weekend without worrying about the
5 kids that needed them.
So this is where my heart is today.
Children hurt. Children are being hurt. And it really, really sucks.
P.S. I legally cannot share any details on his case. So while I’ve referred to different scenarios in which I’ve not made hard decisions, this is not to insinuate that his bio family has had to make such decisions. Just want to clarify.