For a long time people have asked if we thought Dimples would need treatment outside of our home. The answer was always, “No.” I worried that this day would come, but we also worked as hard as we could to avoid it. We paused when a psychologist we greatly respect said, “If you were to ask me, I would say you’re about a year and a half past the time when I would have recommended residential treatment.”
Life was very, very bad. Every day was a struggle for Dimples and for us. A night came when Samuel told us he had a plan for how he could help. He offered to move into an apartment and take Dimples with him. He would lighten his course load in order to pick her up from school and take care of her.
This took our breath away, not only because of his loving and exceptionally sacrificial offer, but because he saw the great need and was searching for a solution. The time had come when it was severely detrimental for all of us to live in the same home. We love Samuel so much, and we cried to think that he had to even think of such a plan – and that he would give so much of himself out of love for Dimples and the other children. We also knew we would never allow him to do it.
Sunday night, December 16th, was horrible. Later, when the children were in bed, I prayed, asking God what we should do and I felt something shift in me. I felt in my spirit that the Lord was very gently saying, “It’s time.” It was as if a door cracked open a tiny bit making it possible for me to consider residential care, and while I was sad, I knew it was truly time. Russ agreed; we needed to make a plan.
On Tuesday I spoke with our case manager, who agreed we needed to pursue this now because it would likely take months for it to come together.
On Wednesday I called a friend whose daughter is in a program in Montana and asked for her thoughts.
On Thursday I called the admissions manager of the program and spoke with her. Everything she said made me feel that if we had to find a place outside of our home, this would be the one.
On Friday we had a big, ugly crisis, one that meant Dimples could not safely be home, not even for Christmas. Due to the holidays, we couldn’t reach our case manager again until the 27th. Amazingly, on her first day back in the office, she came to our home with stacks of paperwork and sat with us, helping us fill it out. She planned to submit our application to the program that day. A meeting had to be held with numerous people in order to get everything approved, and she assured us she would coordinate it as soon as possible.
As she left the house, I hugged Russ and said, “I feel like the train has left the station, it’s hurtling down the track, and I don’t know if I even want to be on it.”