Over the next several months, I wore several hats with respect to this family. I supported them as best I could without pushing them in any one direction. I was extremely careful to maintain appropriate boundaries. Other than the one weekend of respite, I did not see Beth at all. It was my assessment that her first family was not going to go forward with parenting her, especially with a second birth child imminent. Their emotions reflected this outcome, but their minds had not yet reached that conclusion…



Eventually they approached me to parent Beth. They indicated they were willing to disrupt if, and only if, she went to our family. Of course, I wanted to take her, and Stephanie did, too. But my boys were another story.


Kyle was about 15 and he had seen more than his share of family turmoil from disturbed kids. Although he is very giving and very compassionate in general, he did not want to do this. His negative attitude grieved me greatly on many fronts… for his atypical response was a barometer of how much he had suffered already.


My husband was less overt, but like Kyle, he wasn’t at all sure this was the right thing for us to do. Essentially, he trusted my instincts. When I told him I thought there was a neat kid in there somewhere, he acquiesced.


Beth went trick-or-treating with her first family and moved into our home November 1, 1999. We called her “Carol Channing” because after two years of screaming fairly non-stop, she had nodules on her vocal chords. Her voice remained hoarse for a year or more, and to this day if she overuses or abuses it, she gets raspy very easily.


I clearly remember sitting with her in the rocking chair the day she arrived. (We spent hours and hours and hours in this chair!) Kyle was sitting on the couch nearby. He looked over at me and glowered…


“So,” he said, “Do we have any options??”


I told him to “chill out” and that nothing was written in granite just yet.

To be continued...