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<\/figure>\n\n\n\nI am my father\u2019s oldest child, but one of eight girls in a family full of half siblings. A sense of responsibility for my siblings has always been important to me. While navigating the loss of my brother, I turned my attention to my three youngest sisters, who had been placed in emergency foster care while my brother\u2019s death was investigated. I asked to take the girls back to Alaska with me; I believed they deserved to be with family. Over and over, I was told no \u2013 an investigation needed to take place, and reuniting the children with their mother was priority number one \u2013 the children being in Alaska wouldn\u2019t aid in that reunification process.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But, I was relentless. I kept asking, every single month, for an update. What would it take for me to be their foster parent? How much time needed to pass? Was there anything I could do to support my endeavors to reunite them with family so we could work toward healing together? Meanwhile, my military service continued and I enrolled in grief counseling; the weight of the hurt was immeasurable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Every day I focused on making it from one meal to another. Life felt like me, fifty feet of glass, and everyone else. When you lose a loved one in such a terrible way, people don\u2019t know what to say \u2013 they are terrified of saying the wrong thing, so they say nothing at all. I felt no one cared about my loss, that few cared about the hurt that I was carrying with me every day \u2013 and not just for my brother, but for my father who was now jailed for what he did. Love is funny like that.. although he had done a terrible thing, I still felt love for my father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I read the hurtful things people had to say about him, calling him a monster, saying he deserved to die \u2013 it tore me apart. These people didn\u2019t know his mental health struggles, they didn\u2019t know his adult children were sitting here reading these things, they didn\u2019t know the circumstances behind his actions \u2013 as horrendous as they were \u2013 I still wanted to protect and defend him in spite of what he did. Before I knew it, I fell into a deep depression, angry at everyone as I felt they were so easily forgetting about my brother. I was angry at myself for not doing more to alleviate the stress my family had been under, angry at myself for not leaving Alaska sooner. Every day was consumed with the nagging feeling that I was somehow at fault for what happened \u2013 I could have, should have done more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All the while, I continued my military service, but started making plans to transition from active duty to a guard or reserve position. I decided I would enroll in a university, get a full-time job, and focus on caring for myself and my 5-year-old son. And then, the call came. \u2018The state has decided to pursue adoption for the girls \u2013 do you still want to foster them?\u2019 And just like that \u2013 my plans changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I immediately said yes, and the following duty day, began the process to extend my military contract, move into a bigger home, trade in my vehicle for one that was capable of transporting all of us, and began the endeavor to become a licensed foster home. For months, I had appointments, background checks, fingerprints, home studies, and reference letters, but finally in December 2018 I found myself on a plane home with \u2018my girls.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n Trying to navigate life as a single mom not only to my then six-year-old son, but to three of my sisters was a challenge I never thought I\u2019d find myself in, but we were ready to try our hardest. It was a long process, full of visits with social workers every month, and counseling every week, but we began to make progress. Ten months into the foster process, and I had to make another agonizing decision. One of my sisters needed more than I could give her; her sweet heart was in so much pain, and I found myself realizing she needed and deserved more than I could offer \u2013 a therapeutic foster home, and one-on-one attention was where she thrived, but it wasn\u2019t what I could provide. Separating our family again was never something I thought would happen. I so badly wanted to be the one to save and fix all that had gone wrong. Saying \u2018see you later\u2019 to my sweet girl was a hurt I didn\u2019t know how to handle, but I did my best to reassure her I loved her just as much as I had before, and I hoped we could continue to heal and rebuild our relationship and hearts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I learned to do my best to focus on what I could provide for the two girls who remained in my care, reassuring them of my love and intentions to adopt them, while simultaneously ensuring my son continued to thrive in his new environment of \u2018brother\u2019 to my own siblings who were closer in his age than they were in mine. We impatiently waited for our adoption hearing, but two dates came and went; I stopped telling the girls about the rescheduled court hearings, as they lived every day wondering if their placement was in jeopardy. They\u2019d been in two foster homes before living with me, and my teenage sister would occasionally break down in tears, explaining she felt like a piece of property who had no where to really call home. I cried at night, wondering if I was enough for them, if I could be who they needed, if someone else could parent them better.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I doubted myself for months, feeling ill-equipped and less-than-qualified. Still, we continued on. I got word of another court date, but I held the information close, not wanting to disappoint the children with another rescheduled hearing. Finally, the day came, and I must have checked my phone every twenty minutes for a phone call or email letting me know what the judge said \u2013 and finally, it came. \u2018The judge approved everything.\u2019 My co-workers rallied around me as I cried tears of joy. That night, I set up my camera and live streamed for friends and family as I read the court order approving the adoption. \u2018Yes!!!! We aren\u2019t foster kids any more!!!\u2019 was the one of the first things my sister said. We hugged and cried and cheered as we felt a weight lift off of our hearts. We were officially and legally a family!!!!<\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s only been a few weeks, but the euphoria is still there; while we still hurt for our brother, for our father, and for our sister who still remains in foster care, we are so happy to feel a sense of closure with the nearly three years spent navigating the foster system. Our father was sentenced to 65 years in prison, and although we are angry and hurt by what he did, we still love him and hope he continues to get the mental health help he needs, and that forgiveness finds the hearts of those who hate him for his actions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/lwm-a2.azureedge.net\/uploads\/2020\/02\/victoria_baldwin_foster_care_adoption_siblings_grief_abuse_prison3-900x1227.jpg\")
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