On Wednesday, I received a call from Nathan, my son, and he was in Arizona to pick up his baby girl from the hospital. When he walked in and talked to the nurse, she said he could not pick her up, and he could not even see her. “Jackie, pack up, we are driving to Phoenix in the morning.”
We got up the next morning at 4:00 AM, we ate and prayed and got in our car and started heading east. Going through the mountains was cool and beautiful, but once Mr. Sun came up we were in the desert and looking straight at it. Outside it was 108 degrees. I’m so thankful our broken air conditioner started working again. Blinded, I continued until we pulled up to the house where we’d stay for the next 6 days to begin a fight—along with our kids—against Child Protective Services (CPS).
I’ve seen stupid plenty of times, but this took the cake. Nathan and Becka had applied for an adoption, went through the background checks, and proved they weren’t ax murderers convincingly. So convincingly, the lawyer handling the adoption simply told them it was a done deal and they could go get their baby. No one knew that one single CPS agent with some sort of vendetta could cause so much trouble. At first, I didn’t know what to think because none of it made sense. Nathan told me what was going on. “Really. They think you are going to adopt this baby and sneak it back into Arizona and give it to the homeless parents who gave birth?” That’s what the agent thought.
Nathan has friends. Friends in high places and one got hold of the Attorney General in AZ and told him what was going on. “I’ll give ‘em a call.” And he did. They ignored his wishes. There were more friends in the Senate so he gave‘em a call. They ignored him, too. They go to a court hearing on Friday and the judge says to CPS, “You need to get out of the way of this adoption.”
They not only ignore him, they were overheard saying they would ignore him out in the hall by the lawyer representing the birth mom trying to keep her child out of foster care. She knew she couldn’t raise baby Percy but wanted our family to.
By now, CPS knows there is pressure so they had relented in forbidding Nathan and Becka from seeing and holding the baby. Three lawyers, the Attorney General, a judge and a senator, all on our side, were making headway against this one agent. Saturday, as we are driving to the hospital, I hear Nathan through the blue tooth radio talking to his lawyer who is giving us good news. By Sunday we should have an answer to what is going to happen. Sunday comes along and we find out we are down to one more court hearing on Monday and it should be over. Baby Percy has some Native American blood so the Reservation also has to give their blessing to the adoption, which is more of a gesture than a legal roadblock.
We all drive over to the hospital Monday and our lawyer is driving up to Flagstaff, 250 miles north, for the hearing. From 9:00 AM – 8:15 PM makes for a long day sitting in the hospital waiting room, but Jackie and I weren’t budging. I am thrilled that I finally see Tom, the lawyer, walking in and giving us the authority to take the baby home. The nurses, the hospital social worker, all are happy that this comes to an end. The CPS agent? God only knows what was going through her head to want to put Percy into foster care when there’s an approved family waiting to bring her home. God have mercy on her.
I thought about driving home early Tuesday morning so we could be
back to work by 1:00 PM, but Percy was just too cute and Jackie too unhappy to leave her, so I opted for driving home on Wednesday, giving another day of Percy time. I don’t anticipate we’ll be back in Florida for another 13 months—YWAM keeps up plenty busy—so by the time we see her again she’ll be up and walking around. I’m sad about that and Jackie is, too. But we are thankful that this adoption has been finalized and we have a granddaughter. Leah, 3 boys; Nathan & Becka, one boy, one girl; Glen and Boom, one boy and one girl. Are we done?