May 7, 2008. The day my whole world turned upside down.
I find it fascinating to see how the brain works in moments of trauma. Now see, I don't remember every detail of this day, but there are a few details that seem to be unwavering in my brain. I remember sitting in the office at school being questioned if I had eaten breakfast that morning; I don't remember my answer, or any other bits of the conversation. I remember a lady with dark hair coming to the front door wanting to speak to my mom. Have you heard of "Miss Trunchbull" from Matilda? This lady's hair was in a bun like hers. I remember getting into the back of a cop car to be escorted to the Children's Home. Once there, we were separated; my oldest sister and nephew went upstairs, my brother with the boys, and the rest of us girls thankfully were together. We did a lice treatment, showered, and given all new clothes. I remember not being able to sleep very well that night because I was terrified out of my mind. Little did I know, this was the beginning of never living with all my siblings at the same time again.
May 8th. At breakfast, I saw my brother eating from across the cafeteria. I couldn't go sit with him. I don't remember why, but I remember I was so upset about it. It was also my oldest sister's sixteenth birthday. Since she was upstairs, we couldn't see her. But I remember when we went outside to play in the small courtyard, we saw her through the window. My other sisters and I were all jumping up and down shouting "Happy Birthday" to her until she opened the window to tell us that she loved us.
I cannot recall how long we were at the Children's Home - I think it was just a few days, until our caseworkers could find a placement for us. With us being such a big family, we were split up from the beginning. My oldest sister was set up in a home that would help her succeed with finishing school, and start life with her kiddo. The next three of us were placed in a home together. Then the two younger girls were placed in a home together.
Life just started rolling from there. We established our first case plan as "reintegration" with bio-parents. We started visits, which start out as 30 minute/supervised visits in a conference room. The amount of time eventually increases as goals are met. But while anxiously waiting for the next visit, and more importantly, the move back home, we stayed with many different people.
The three of us stayed in our first placement for a few months, until the arrangement was made to move to our aunt's (on our father's side). But that didn't last very long for a few reasons. We then moved in with a nice family in Goddard. My siblings tried to run away and was brought back by the neighborhood cops, so we moved again. So, from May seventh (end of fifth grade for me), to the midway mark of sixth grade, we had moved into four homes, not including the Children's Home. That's crazy.
That fourth home I stayed in until the summer before freshman year. This is the home that I was in through the majority of the "mess." By the end of eighth grade, I was no longer living with any of my siblings and visitations with both of my parents had stopped as our case plan was moved to "adoption."
I could have chosen to stay in this home until I was 18 and just "age out," but my family was too important to me. So I decided to move into the foster home my sister was in. I stayed there for a year and a half. My sister "disrupted" again at this home, so she moved out. Eventually I moved too. I stayed in a "respite" home for two-three weeks while a really good friend of mine and her family got licensed to take me in.
Fast forward another year, and I was moving to Kansas City. I was ever so ready to catch a break. Many relationships were broken between May 7th, 2008 and July 11th, 2013. I was ready to get out and get a fresh start.
I moved in with David and Julie that weekend, and thankfully stayed. When I moved up to Kansas City, it was just me for a while. My youngest sister moved in with us, but didn't feel as though this family was a good fit for her, so she moved back down to Wichita. I am thankful that she was given the choice.
Some of these homes were not my choice. I just went where I needed to go. Eventually I would like to dive into my experiences in each of these homes, but right now, and to keep this from being overwhelmingly long, I just want to make it clear that I am more than grateful for the fact that each of these families has taken me in and loved on me. Although I may not have known how to accept or reciprocate the unconditional love that I was given, I am glad to have seen and felt it.
Each of my siblings has a different story. Some have lived in many more places, some in less. I won't try to tell you their story, as that's not my place to do so. But no matter what their story is, or where it has taken them, I still love each of them very much. Even though we haven't lived under the same roof since 2008, they are still my family.
May 7, 2008 - August 11, 2015. The day of being taken away, to getting adopted. 8 homes of unfamiliar faces. I made it through and I learned a lot. More to come!
Kayla Olsen
