The reality of being a foster parent
GERARD O'NEIL
FAIRFAX NZ
Becoming foster parents was a radical change for Gerard O'Neil and his wife, he says.
When my wife was fifteen she was diagnosed with cancer and after years of extensive treatment, her doctors advised against ever having children due to the risk of complications.
From the beginning of our relationship my wife was honest about it and I accepted that I would never become a father. Though we did not have children of our own, we often looked after my wife’s sister's two young boys when my sister-in-law was too sick to take care of them herself - she suffered from severe depression.
When my sister-in-law’s eldest son abandoned school at the age of eleven to spend his days on the streets, the authorities took action. They took both children into care and then approached my wife and me to ask if we would become their foster parents.
Being foster parents is different from being natural parents. You are very conscious of your legal obligations. You need to follow defined rules and are subject to regular home inspections and meetings with the social workers.
Children in foster care are often traumatised. Every night during the first months one of the boys would wake in the early hours screaming. My wife and I spent many sleepless nights sitting beside his bed trying to comfort him.
And there were other behavioral issues too.
The first months were the most difficult. The boys had to adapt to life in a new town, to a new school, new friends and a new home. There was a radical change in our lives too. All of a sudden our home office was transformed into a bedroom, our domestic expenses went up dramatically, but most of all our time was no longer ours. There was now football practice, school meetings to attend, homework to help with, overnight sleepovers to organise.
Though we liked having the boys with us, we never lost sight of our role. When people tried to congratulate me on Father’s Day for example, I would correct them saying, “I am not the boys’ father. I am their guardian.”
For us it was important that boys maintained contact with their parents so we travelled to the boys’ hometown 400 kilometres away at least once a month.
After a time we were able to convince my sister-in-law to move to our city. We rented a small flat for her and she began to recover. She visited the boys every day and once her health had improved they began to sleep over at her home once or twice per week. The plan was for the boys to move back to live with their mother, with my wife and me providing logistical and financial support.
Then tragedy struck. My sister-in-law was run over and killed crossing the street.
A few months after the funeral the boys’ father entered a legal process to reclaim his children. My wife and I waited on tender hooks until the judge finally found in our favor, awarding us permanent guardianship until the boys were of age.
Today the boys are 19 and 21 respectively and both working. The eldest went flatting at the beginning of the year. My wife was very upset when he moved out to live on the other side of the city. For a month we did not see him, then he started appearing for lunch on Sundays then Saturdays and then he began to bring his washing during the week.
Last week he moved again to a flat half a block away. My wife thinks it is because he is missing her but I suspect he moved in order to be closer to our fridge. When I inquired if our youngest nephew was interested in going flatting too, he replied "don’t worry, I am never moving!"
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