CPS

CPS all the agencies who helped them get away with it they say they want to reunite families but systematically rip them apart tacoma, Washington

28th of Jun, 2011 by User840059

I have had dealings with CPS as a child taken into custody, as the sibling, cousin, aunt, and mother of children who were also taken, and of the four children I produced over my lifetime was only allowed to raise one of them. The other three are either adopted or about to be adopted. I would like to tell you why, and see if you agree with me that this was unjust. As a child I was raised by an abusive father and an under-educated mother. I became highly educated at an early age and by the time I was 15 I saw that my sister managed to escape our home by getting pregnant and thought I might be able to do the same. But instead I ended up in foster care when my father tried to blow my head off. I agreed that in this case placement of myself and my younger siblings was called for and went willingly into care. Boy was I in for a surprise! None of the homes I was placed in were all that great, and I learned a lot about the world I probably could have done without. In one of the receiving homes another girl there lit my bed on fire as I slept. I walked 20 miles home to tell my mother, and went to stay with a family friend until they found me a so-called decent home. This was the home wherein another girl lived who wanted to throw a beer party for her 16th birthday. Not only did the foster mother allow it, she even joined in! Of the thousand people there only 10 percent were old enough to be there, yet when the police came to break it up this woman came out smelling like a rose. I went to one more foster home for my senior year and this home had a couple as parents, but the man was gone frequently for his job. Yet from the phone, before I'd ever met him, he says I'm grounded till he sees my grades improve. I told him that as long as he didn't force me to watch TV instead of doing my homework my grades would be just fine, and never call me Miss Vanderbilt when I tell you I'd like to spend some time writing on my novel. He probably thought I was weird but that was what they did at the last place and I didn't want a repeat. I needed someone who would help me learn to get a job and a place of my own before my birthday, but they were too caught up in being yuppies who were nice enough to foster me to think about helping me while they were at it. I was lucky enough to become the girlfriend of the neighbor boy and his parents were nice enough to take me in when I left care. Otherwise I would have become homeless, foodless, and jobless as well as clueless. I eventually had a son and moved into subsidized apartments with his dad. CPS arrived at my door citing that my toddler was being locked in his bedroom all day every day. I had to prove that the kid just wanted to be in there so he could people watch out his window or they were going to take him away from us right then. Apparently a couple of the neighbors hated my outfit and "decided to cause trouble". I divorced that man a few years later and ended up with our mobile home and our child, and we were ok for a year, but the woman I had watching him while I worked died of cancer. So at age 8 my very intelligent son sat home reading collegiate level books and inventing crazy stories to tell me when I got home. I met my second husband while I was working, and he moved in at the mobile home. I didn't realize he'd stolen my credit cards until I had to consolidate my debt to pay the bills. I lost my home shortly thereafter thanks to him, and we were homeless quite a while because of a criminal history he had not thought to tell me about. We finally got a place and he kept inviting people to spend the night if they gave him drugs, and i stayed upstairs away from them and kept telling him it had to stop. i had nowhere to go and was afraid to death of being homeless and helpless again, but inside I was feeling more helpless than ever. He kept begging me to do drugs with him, saying "If you loved me you would do everything with me." I kept refusing and he kept beating me for it. One day, just to spare myself yet another beating, I simply held out my arm to shut him up. I have no idea what he put in it, some concoction of an upper and a downer which he said was a speedball. I didn't like it at all. I was so sick I thought I was going to die and wanted to take my child and put him somewhere safe before I did. He wouldn't let me leave, said he had to make sure I would be okay. He said he would never make me do it again and he was sorry. Load of crap, but I was willing to listen just to keep the peace. Another month of his friends and his crap and I gave him an ultimatum. Stop it or get out. So instead he went out and got himself arrested. I picked up everything and moved to another apartment, but when he got out somehow he found it and said he lived there as well. He kept "baking cookies" at the neighbors and then came home one day and demanded we leave for another city immediately so some dealer wouldn't shoot him for some reason. I felt like telling him to go get shot and do the world a favor, but he grabbed me and my son and loaded us into a car. As soon as we got down there he was arrested for driving on the wrong side of the road so I took the car back to my own city and holed up with my sister. The septic system was backing up the day he showed up out of jail, and he announced he was feeling suicidal and called the hotline. A pair of cops came with the counsellors and saw a piled up mess near the sink. They called CPS and they had to investigate us at a motel because we'd already left my sister's home. I was hugely pregnant so to avoid them we went to stay with friends for a month or two and he had an affair with one of them, and after the baby was born he got arrested again so I moved while he wasn't looking. Unfortunately he found me, so I had to break out the big guns. I told him he couldn't live there unless he went to treatment and became clean and sober for at least a year. So he punched me and kicked my kid, which made my son drop the baby. I threw him out and told CPS myself what had occurred. Six months go by and all the sudden he's outside my son's window trying to get inside. I open the door to yell at him and he comes in. CPS chooses that moment to show up and "see how I'm doing" and finds him there. He tells them he has moved back in, and I'm standing there looking terrified. The dense idiots left me like that, but luckily he tells me he's off to move in with another woman. Since I didn't believe he would stay away I moved again so he couldn't find me--again. I'm there about a month when CPS assigns me a family preservation counsellor. One day I tell her we have to change an appointment so we can watch my niece graduate. Three days later the cops tell me to give them my baby and that my son has been taken directly from school, citing that someone said they thought my husband was hiding in my closet at my new home. The ISSP stated the reason for removal was that my older son wasn't being given his prescribed medications (only the current prescription was supposed to be to not take them so we could start him again later and get a baseline response test). This report further stated that there had supposedly been over 40 calls to CPS involving my family over the past 10 years which was cause for great concern. (So then why didn't they ever tell me about those calls before???) Eventually, after over a year of fighting, I got the older boy back and overheard someone say that it was because at the age of 15 he was unadoptable so they might as well put him back. They said only he could come home because he was able to self-protect whereas his brother was still too young to do the same. CPS gave both fathers ISSP papers that listed my address and phone number. The one in prison called to say he wanted to know how his son was doing so I wrote one letter to let him know--and told him we were moving soon. The other one, who I was not all the way divorced from, started calling in threats saying he would kill all my family and make me watch if I didn't tell him where his kids was. He also said if I got him back he was going to take him. To keep him safe I relinquished him to the foster mother provided we had open communication, which we do. Later I divorced my millionaire playboy husband of three months about the same time as I was struck by a car while walking. I was pregnant with my current man's baby but he was killed by that careless driver, and the incident left me in need of canes and walkers and all that ever since. My honey and I had our daughter while trying to move in together about a year later, but then all hell broke loose. We were trying to pack things in our houses so both were all messy, when I took baby to spend a nice safe week at grandma's while we finished packing. I get a call from some CPS chick saying our home is unsafe and we better bring our baby there so she could see if she was ok. They took her from an unsafe home she wasn't even in. It took another year for us to find a suitable home that was "safe and clean" but when we surmounted that hurdle that tacked on more again. We had another baby and he never got to come home until the started allowing the visits there. Ultimately, however, they lined up 16 witnesses all willing to attest that we were unable to parent long term, and told us this in order to convince us to sign away our rights so we'd get any visits at all. They did this in spite of the fact that my separated man's spouse is in another state and we have been together 4 years now, and our home is stable, clean and safe, and neither of us drinks, drugs, smokes, or breaks any laws. We should have been perfectly viable candidates for a return. I just don't understand why we weren't. And if anyone thinks physical or mental debility was the reason let me remind you that in this country you have to be declared insane or unfit in a court of law before your rights are taken from you. I wasn't because I am neither.

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