Toni E.'s Story

Our Dealings with DoCS

When I was in hospital having my second child at the age of 20, I thought about how my boys grow up and would play together, how close they would be… boy was I blind.

I never thought that on Sept 3rd 2006 would be a total change on our family for the worse…

Father’s day was spent just lazing around, day before we had a BBQ at my parents to celebrate. We enjoyed our sleep in, and the boys had just finished tea when my Partner decided that the kids needed bathing… we had a late tea, don’t remember what we ate, its so insignificant now. After our baby was bathed, dad dressed him and was getting ready to put a bunny rug around him (he never settled without it) when our eldest distracted him. My partner spoke to our eldest then realised the weight on the change table changed. He spun around while our baby was falling and did what any parent would… caught him anyway he could. He ended up catching him by the left arm. He then came running into me “his arm, his arm, his arm” while passing our baby to me. I used one finger to lift my baby’s arm and watched in horror as his arm dropped suddenly. I told my partner immediately “call an ambo!!!”. My partner was hysterical, thought he was the worst father in the world because he had unintentionally hurt but saved our baby’s life. Under the change table, where our son would have landed was a huge hard plastic trailer. He would have either been brain damaged, or killed instantly.

I took the phone from my partner and explained to the operator what had happened, and that my sons arm was limp… at this time I was cradeling my son in my arms, ensuring that his left arm was away from my body, but held in such a way that no further damage could be done. She told me to lay him onto a flat surface, or the bed and check whether there was any bleeding… there wasn’t any. She then told me to turn my front light on so the ambulance knew which house to go to. Done. When I hung up, I asked my partner what had happened, he simply said our eldest had distracted him and when he turned around, our youngest was falling so he caught him.

When the ambulance officers finally arrived, they checked our baby over, mentioned it just seemed like a dislocation that had set it self right and that he didn’t really need to be transported to the hospital. I was blunt to them, told them that no matter what, he needs to be checked out by a doctor and that was that. I went with my baby to the hospital, left my partner and my eldest at home.

Now when I clean, I wear a pair of shorts, a singlet shirt, and my old joggers (bleach nut, not wreaking new shoes when the old ones do that job fine). I have a mark on my right arm that was from a boil about 6 years ago now… I was asked about it. I also have a scar on my right thigh from having an infected cyst removed at the age of ten. I never thought twice about the comments the ambo officer was trying to make.

At about 11pm we arrived at the hospital it took a bit for my baby to be checked out. At this time my son had a lot of bruising on the left arm, and a small amount on the right. I presumed it was from over correcting. I was asked what had happened and I said that I was not in the room at the time but from what I can gather my eldest distracted my partner while he was dressing our baby and that I think our eldest may have knocked the change table.
We had the first doctor, who looked at his arm, then realised that the baby couldn’t move it, he then got another doctor in. This next doctor wanted x-rays done, quick smart. I left my baby with a nurse to call my partner and asked him to join me. I then returned to my son, we got his x-ray done and the lady that took the x-ray let me know that it was a break, not dislocation… this was before the doctor found out. My partner arrived with our eldest and I told him the news, he immediately broke down. Then the doctor walked in, while my partner was still crying and blaming himself, told him to take our other son home and try to rest. Let mum deal with this at the moment. After my partner left the doctor asked what my partner was upset about, I told him that he was upset because by trying to save our son, he’d injured him and that he felt terrible. The doctor decided that my baby was going to be admitted into the hospital and that I was welcome to stay the night with him.

At about 3am, we finally got to the pediatric’s ward where I was greeted by a very hostile nurse. After my son settled, I went for a walk to get some fresh air… when I came back I asked the nurse if she could arrange any type of counciling for my partner as he feels terrible about the accident. I drifted off…finally.

Next morning, a different doctor was “looking after” my baby. He asked me what had happened, and I told him the same as what I told the other dr. He checked my son out and felt the need to inform me that “DoCS will need to speak to you!”. Well DUH! I already figured that one out. That day a full body x-ray was done, to be expected. He also mentioned that my son’s eyes would have to be checked. That afternoon we were to have a bit of a chat to two of the doctors there about what had happened. At about 3pm, after waiting around majority of the day to ensure I was with my baby when the x-rays were done, I decided it was time to find a babysitter for my eldest and to go home and have a shower. It had been an emotional day. Weird thing was, when I came back after only 45mins, my son was not in the pediatrics ward. A baby was screaming while coming out of the x-ray dept, I knew instantly it was my son. I asked what was going on, they simply said his x-rays have just been done and that he was a bit unsettled and due for a bottle…. Funny thing he had a bottle only about two hours before…(he was in a four hour routine) I cradled my baby… he settled instantly. Puked about 20 mins after I rocked him to sleep because he had had too much milk. I struggled changing him, (they had a splint attached to his arm with a bit of bandage) and he settled again. We then had the meeting with the doctors. Two of them. The first thing the doctor said to us when we had seated, was that “we can do this the easy way or the hard way” this alarmed me immediately and made me so nervous. My partner told him that he was unsure how bub fell, he thought he may have rolled off the edge (my partner has a habbit of keeping the kids close to his body when he’s changing them on the change table because he assumes its going to be quick and no need to stap them or put them in the correct spot). Being near the edge in my opinion, could mean that if he had kicked his leg, his butt would have slipped off causing all the weight to fall forward. Because the word “rolled” was used, the doctor didn’t agree with anything and said we’d have another talk later.

I decided at that point it was time to get my mum in for support. She was there quick smart. The dr asked the bone dr about what we could do for his arm and whether he needed a cast etc. The bone doctor was fantastic, told me it would only take about three weeks for his arm to heal and that putting tubbigrip around his tummy and arm would help keep it in place. I spent another night in a wonky foldout sofa bed thing that the hospital has.

Tuesday went as a bit of a blur… I remember the dr making the same comment about having to speak to DOCS. My son’s brain was checked… to ensure it wasn’t shaken baby syndrome. No bruising on the brain. I ducked home for a shower and hot meal, spoke to my partners brother. He mentioned that if DoCS were coming they would have been already and that I should start to ease. I then went back to the hospital and slept on the same sofa style bed again.

Wednesday was a terrifying day for me. In the morning, mum was with me and we were talking about going to maccas for breaky. All of a sudden the doctor and two uniformed police officers marched up to my baby and took photos of the bruising. A few minutes later the head nurse came over and said that my son had a very busy day. He had bone scans to be done to determine if he bruises easily and that it would take nearly all day. So breaky was off. Mum ended up going to maccas herself and getting me a banana muffin, which I greatly appreciated. Then off to get the scans done.
He had one set in the morning and one in the after noon. After the scans were done, two JIRT detectives and a DoCS worker came over to speak with me. The male JIRT detective asked whether I would give permission for them to take photos of my baby. I asked him “what do you mean “permission”?? Photos have already been taken of my son”. When the DoCS worker began to talk to me she mentioned that she had lived in the town that my partner grew up in. I instantly asked her a few questions about his family to see if she knew them. She said that she had been there for a short time and that names didn’t quite ring a bell. She then crouched down next to me and said “look one of the doctors has mentioned a bruise on you”. I immediately asked, shocked “who me or bub???!” she repeated “you” I rolled up the sleve of the shirt I had on, showed her a mark on my right arm that has been there for about 6 years now, and asked “is that what your talking about??” she then wanted to check my other arm, while asking what the mark was on my right. I explained, like I’ve done so many times before, that I had a boil there that left the mark (should add photos, shouldn’t I?)
We spoke briefly about it. Then I was asked to participate in an interview with the JIRT detectives, and herself. Towards the end of the interview, the JIRT detective told me that my sons 11th rib was fractured. I broke down. He asked why and I said straight “they did a test behind my back!” In my opinion, to this day, on the Monday when they did the full body x-ray while I was in the shower, and getting arrangements done for my eldest, something went wrong. It was not physically possible for my partner to have done it. He has a finger missing on his left hand, if my son was slammed down as they said, there was nothing it could have landed on to cause it. They kept saying it was from a push pull motion, still his fingers don’t stretch that far. The doctor is known for making sure things were bad. I still haven’t seen anything films, or print-offs to prove it was even a real fracture! All I’ve seen is a piece of paper saying this has happened. Student nurses were handling my child! GRRRR it still ticks me off.

When all the interviews and what not we’re finally over, we were taken to the same room that we had a “chat” with the doctors. We were told by the JIRT detectives that no charges would be laid, and that it end’s there with them. The DoCS worker then handed me papers stating they were taking my baby into the care of the Minister. My partner completely broke down with my eldest in his arms. I starred, teary eyed at the papers until I realised what was going on, and cried into my mother. We were then informed that security was on the door in case anyone tried to take my baby. I went and sat with my mum, as she nursed my son, she was singing to him, which he has always loved when the security guard walked down, pulled the curtain back (the side curtain that was closed by the woman next to me) to ensure mum hadn’t put my son in her bag.
After a long emotionally day, I thought it would be better, for myself, and for my eldest, for me to stay that night at home. I gave my baby a huge cuddle and kiss…longing to be with him, but knowing I couldn’t handle another night with those nurses. My partners mum arrived that night after knowing what was happening now.
Thursday after barely any sleep we went to the hospital to see my baby. He had been moved from one side of the ward to the other because they needed the sofa… too bad if I wanted to stay with him that night. I spent as much time with him as I could, crying through majority of it. That afternoon about 4:45pm, I was served papers for court on Friday. The DoCS worker let me know that they hadn’t been to the hospital yet, to serve my partner or to take my son and place him into foster care. I was still emotionally drained from the day before and decided not to see him taken away from me. My parter and his mum were a the hospital spending as much time with my son as they could. I was also told by the DoCS worker that the reason she delivered the papers so late, was so I had more time with my son before he was taken… and in my opinion less time to organise a solicitor.

Friday morning was spent trying to find a solicitor that would take our case on. We found our current solicitor and she immeditely helped us, without having much time to look at the case. I was that nervous that I felt physically sick, and even had the nasty runs to go with. The judge was a real mean looking elderly man. He glared down at us during the proceedings in the beginning… but then started laying into DoCS when at 6 months of him being in their care, they still hadn’t completed a care plan.

On the 8th Sept 2006, I got to see my son for one hour. One lousy hour! While sitting outside waiting for my son to arrive, there was a lady sitting to my right, and my mum on my left. The lady had a baby in a pram, looked to be about the same age as my son. She first started saying “mummy will be here soon, mummy will be here soon!” when the baby was a little unsettled. When the baby fully cried her words changed “mummies here, mummies here” while going to pick the baby up. All that was going through my mind was “she better not have my son, oh geez if she’s got my son I’m going to flip!”. Then the interview room door opened, and there was my baby boy, in a baby capsule on the middle of the conference table, asleep. He’d just had a bottle.

We quickly had the first Case worker taken off our case. She knew my partner too well, and I found we were getting no where. Every time we had a meeting, it was like a mother son argument.

During the next few months, it about us undertaking councilling, couples and individual, my partner completed an anger management course, and we also did the P.P.P parenting course (postive parenting program), visits with my son.

On the 15th Sept 2006, our visit time changed because he had to go to the fracture clinic.

On the 18th Sept 2006, I was unable to see my son as they were “short on escorts” I wasn’t informed that contact was cancelled until my partner, son and I went to their office for the arranged visit. I was also told that they would call me when next contact could be made. I never received a call, but ensured that I called them every day until contact was made.

On the 19th Sept 2006, I was unable to see my son because he “had a bad night and it wouldn’t be worthwhile bringing him into town”. Great, another visit cancelled.

On the 20th Sept 2006, the escort/supervisor that day allowed me to put my son into the car seat. He had a seat, similar to mine. I told him that it was facing the wrong way (6-12month position, not the baby to 6 months position) he told me my son would be fine, I said “no, it will hurt his development”. What more could I do?? I went straight to my solicitors office, and by that afternoon, DoCS agreed, to disagree with the way the car seat was facing and the escort was made to pick up a baby capsule.

On the 25th Sept I was unable to see my son because of “low escorts”.

On the 29th Sept 2006 my partner and I noticed that our son didn’t seem to recognise us and that it was hard to bond with him with such short contact visits (max of 3 hours a week). Being nearly two months old, he really needed to know who his parents were, and it was difficult listening to his carer say how he’s smiling a lot, when we don’t get to see much of how he’s developing.

On the 3rd Oct 2006 I noticed that my sons skin was looking great, but he was putting on a lot of weight. I also thought at two months old, he should have been more aware of what’s going on around him. I also thought he should be more alert when it comes to colours and lights.

Around this time, the foster carer mentioned going interstate, and that they would be away for a week. I immediately went to our solicitors office, was told that there was nothing she could do except speak to the DoCS manager, and see where that went. The DoCS manager decided that it was too early for him to travel and that his bond with me would be broken. He was transferred to a different “home”.

On the 9th Oct 2006, I called our Case Worker to see what time I could see my son. I got the excuse “I’ve only just gotten back from my holiday and I haven’t had a chance to organise visitation but I will arrange Tuesday Wednesday and Friday.

On the 10th Oct 2006, I called our Case Worker again to see what time I could see my son. I was told that “he has tests and scans to be done. It would not be a good visit because of the busy day” I asked what scan had to be done and was told a full body scan.

On the 17th Oct 2006, after I already noticed the weight my son had packed on I was told by the Case Worker “your son is a little over weight”.

On the 23rd Oct 2006, my parents finally got to care for my baby boy!!! My heart and head felt lifted, that he was safe with my family.

On the 26th Oct 2006, we were assessed by the Court’s clinician,(like a psychologist). During the day, while on breaks from speaking to the clinician we noticed that the old case worker (the one that got booted from our case), was at the courthouse on numerous occasions, without folders/paper work etc. It seemed to us that we were being checked up on and raised questions in my mind as to why she was there. At this point everything seems to be getting us down. It’s very hard to stay positive with what’s going on. I feel as if I’m an aunty/god mother of my son because there isn’t a strong bond between us. I am very disappointed when it comes to responsibilities of DoCS. They don’t seem to be doing things they have said they would e.g. writing a letter to the real estate to help us move.

On the 5th Dec 2006 our DoCS Case Worker come over to ask how we were copping and if they can help. They have not spoken to me since my son went into my mothers care. They also mentioned another parenting class they wanted us to do, to give us more stratagies with our eldest son. It feels like DoCS is going to continue to give us parenting classes and courses until they are all completed and they’ve run out of things to put us through. I was an emotional wreck.

On the 19th Dec 2006 I received two phone calls from our Case worker. The first was to try and arrange a care plan meeting for Thursday afternoon (they had been told many times that Friday afternoons were easy for appointments/meetings because my partner knocked off early. Two days notice… amazing. NOT. I explained to them how inconvienient the hours were when it came to mid weeks, and that my partners boss was already getting sick and tired of not being able to rely on my partner. It’s hard to try and keep everyone happy when no one can make up their mind of what we need to do.

The second call was to try and arrange a meeting for the 12th Jan 2007 at 3:30pm.
Least it was a Friday I suppose.

The whole time we were told “Short term, short term” in about November last year the solicitor clarified to me that short term for them is two years. My heart was set on him being home by Christmas 2006..

Christmas was hard. We spent Christmas Eve with our son, because mum couldn’t come up Christmas day, and we had arranged to see my partners parents. I cried that night, thinking about how much I’d missed. The first smiles, the first laugh, the first time he grabbed at something, the first time he’d play peek-a-boo.

On the 20th January 2007, I turned 21. I didn’t get to see my boy that day, couldn’t even see my family, they couldn’t afford to come up both the 19th and 20th. I was upset about that, and the fact DoCS gave us more paper work the day before, for court.


Anywho, jumping forward…

In January this year, we had a pretty big court thing. Can’t remember what it was going to do, but anyway while sitting in a room at the court house with our solicitor, a security guard interrupted us, and asked for us to go outside, to walk though the metal detector and come back in. We went into the court room, did our thing, and started to feel good about ourselves.

As soon as we got outside though, we were informed that the reason security had been increased was because the life of the judge and our case worker had been threatened by my partners father. All our hope, and our positive attitude, went out the window. We found out that someone called the dept, didn’t like what they were hearing, and said they were going to shoot the case worker. Basically as soon as we got home, I called my to be mum in law. Asked her straight out “did you guys call DoCS this morning??” “No.” and explained the whole thing. Immediately, my to be father in law got a solicitor, and has been fighting since, to find out who made the call etc.

You see, my father in law hasn’t seen my son since he was 2 weeks old. My son is now one. Father in law has been denied any access because of this so called phone call and its been hard.

Anyway between Jan and March my partner was asked to get assessed by a occupational therapist to see whether he could handle a baby. My partner has a finger missing on his left hand, a birth defect. We would have to pay a hell of a lot of money for this just for them.

In March this year we met with our DoCS Case Worker, her manager, my sons solicitor, and the Courts registra. This was to see if we could come to an agreement. The courts registra asked DoCS, what would be the outcome of this assessment on his hand? Would it be a pass or fail thing, what would happen? We reached an agreement that the dept would have my son between 6-12 months from this day. A section 86-82 can’t remember what number, would go through allowing the dept to pop in for 12 months after he came home. So they can come here until March 2009. The week before this, my partner was sacked! He was unreliable, couldn’t concerntrate on the job.

April this year we celebrated our eldest sons second birthday. My youngest had a ball eating honey soy kababs, playing on a swing etc. Had mates from Sydney come up for it. They’ve been there through the worst.

In June/July roughly, our PANOC worker, who’s sorta like a councillor, who comes around to your home, tells you how to discipline your kids, and when to do it, teaches you how to play with yours kids etc… She came over, for our weekly appointment. We were making a list of things to ask the dept at our next review. The topic of my partners parents seeing our son came up. My partner told her clearly, can we please drop this topic. She pushed him more. He got up, yelled “they got their fucken two years, what’s the point???” threw his hat and sunnies at the driveway. She said that his behaviour was inappropriate, especially since it was in front of our youngest child. Left.

From this they decided that my partner and I should have separate PANOC sessions.

This was also about a week before our review. Our review was then postponed by me, I was in Sydney to get my head together for a week, and wanted to be a the review, but was unable to get back in time.

On the 6th Aug we finally had our review. The day before my son’s first birthday! Nothing good came of it. We just got told continue with PANOC, my partner had to get in through the community health centre to get a psychiatric review done, the PANOC worker also mentioned my partner getting his brain scanned, to see if anything was wrong and if that was why he was angry and couldn’t put his anger management into effect. We were told the whole time, that the PANOC worker would show us her report before sending it to DOCS. She lied. My partner, no longer trusted her.

The 9th of Aug was a good day. We celebrated my sons birthday, got him an ice-cream cake, took him to an indoor kids playground called KidZoo. They all had a great time. Had mates from Parkes NSW come over for it. They have been helping us deal with things throughout.

On the 13th Aug 2007 I had a doctors appointment with a doctor that I trust, 300k’s away. My partner didn’t realise, and decided that I needed him more than a PANOK appointment did as I was getting a lump removed from my left breast, and a cyst removed from my eyebrow. From the time we got back till last week my partner was still trying to reschedule an appointment for PANOC. He got frustrated one day at the receptionist and told her “this isn’t good enough” with an angry tone.

Last week (end of august/early sept) they did a surprise meeting. The DoCS Case Worker, Manager, and the manager of the community health centre here all ganged up on my partner. A lump on the breast is not a good enough reason to miss an appointment. This is out of the letter from the Manager of the Community health centre:
“over the past few weeks it has come to the attention of the community health centre management that there have been several incidents of verbal aggression directed towards staff.
Due to treatment goals not being met, and the increased incidents of verbal aggression, it has been decided that PANOC services should cease.

It is recommended that you:
- Access services through the Mental Health Team (btw, he’s been doing that since every thing started)
- Maintain psychiatric review appointment

If in the future there has been demonstrated steps shown in managing frustration/anger, then the need for PANOC services will be reassessed.”

Great, not only has PANOC stressed us out during the last few months, but now, he has to calm himself, only to be put through this stress all over again.

At this point everything has been competed. My partner has nearly lost his mind and I feel more alone than ever. My son now knows me, thanks to my devoted mum and step dad. He laughs with me, cuddles me, kisses me. Absolutely adores his brother, but his bond with his father will never be what it should. My partner feels like a monster. He has nightmares just before something comes up with DOCS, such as this week, our next “review” is on Friday. Doesn’t know how to cope with the kids anymore, and doesn’t have anyone to help him deal with his grief. He blames himself, hasn’t been the same loving man I’ve been with for the last 4 and a half years. I’m starting to fear that if the dept continues the way they are… he will do the unthinkable.

Today 4th Sept 2007, has been a very hard and emotional day. My partner is at this present is in hospital for a violent outburst, headbutting, punching, cutting himself etc... all of which has been caused by stress, lack of sleep and nourishment, lack of support from the dept, and i am sick of it. He had an outburst this afternoon where he headbutted the car, tried to cut himself, punched at things outside of the mental health clinic etc, and now he is finally receiving the help he has needed for quite a while. I am so afraid for him, i don’t know how to help anymore. He has been beating himself up about the accident for so long now, that he isn't who he once was. He has changed, to a man that is full of hatred, loss, pain, and doesn't know how to deal with anything anymore. I fear that today, as much as this hospital could help, he may not wish to speak to me for taking him there.
We have a review on friday, at which i intend to uhh., as nicely as possible, blast the dept for the pain they are intentionally causing. My partner has just about lost the plot. I am sick of the dept dragging things on, and causing my partner to feel nothing, to look at taking his own life from what has only ever been a fucking accident. He has NEVER hurt me, he has NEVER intentionally hurt anyone. He is a cranky shit and a half and he blames himself every day for what happened. He will never celebrate Fathers day the way it should be celebrated again... he will never accept that he did nothing wrong. He is so down, and so lost that i cant cope with him being here with me at the moment. I cant keep babysitting him, my son and try and work..... i am sick to death of the excuses, and the un-necessary stress that the dept has put not just on to us as a couple, not just onto our kids, but our entire families, our entire group of friends and my work.

My partner has lost jobs, quite a few since they stepped in and started controlling our lives. My partner has been depressed in the past... and now i feel he is once again.

As i look upon our "lives" i see that we don't speak about the future, we don't have dreams anymore, and we don't feel as much as before.

I will fight for my son till the day I die, no matter what. I don’t think its fair to put anyone through this. It’s like having your son dangling by a thread in front of you.

As for hope, there isn’t much left. I feel that even when my son finally comes home, we will never be the same people we once were.

- Toni E. - New South Wales

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