First of all, I did something illegal. So... Yeah. Ok. Remember when I stored some boxes at C's house? And then I moved and I thought I got all of them but last summer she called to tell me her daughter found a couple more. So I went and got them and brought them home and opened them to see what it was that I hadn't even thought about enough to notice I was missing...and they were *M's boxes. Boxes full of her clothes, shoes, pictures, art work, some toys, all the DCF paperwork, the contracts, my initial notes from her placement, a record of doctor visits...her state ID cards, her medical record number...
I cried.
A lot.
For a week.
Because what else could I do?
And then I saw the light. I saw her medical record number. And... I did that illegal thing. I went to work where I had promised to never do the very thing I was doing... and I looked her up. Because what else could I do?
She was 10 months old when she was placed with me, she was just 2 years and 3 weeks old when they took her back. I loved her for just over a year... Now? She will be 9 in just a couple of weeks.
The last note in her record was from a couple years ago. She was maybe 7...she was presenting to the ER because a teacher reported possible sexual abuse. The notation states she is learning disabled, slow...like her mom. She lives with her father though. The report cleared her father...and recommended further DCF follow up. I read it all at work, silently and stoically, and secretively, and then I went to the employee bathroom and threw up. Twice. Because what else could I do?
Once upon a time I had a little brown girl in my arms and in my heart, and now I am broken...and so is she...
So I pray... Please, pray with me, for her. Because what else can I do?
