Evening Post: 22/06/01

To Save A Child

The death of Carterton toddler Lillybing has raised questions about the role of grandparents in protecting infants from unsafe families.

Margaret Willard reports on one Maori woman's struggle to save her grandchild. Lilian remembers very clearly the Sunday afternoon last year when her daughter walked out on her baby. She'd come home from a visit to the shops in her middle-class Hutt valley neighbourhood. Her husband works as a machinery technician, and together the Maori couple has spent 20 years raising three daughters. At 42, Lilian, whom The Post has agreed not to name fully, was looking forward to a new life. She planned to study to fulfil her dream of becoming a teacher. She'd enjoyed raising her children who are, except for the baby's mother, still at secondary school. She was looking forward to becoming a grandparent. Her eldest daughter, 19 had become pregnant to her partner of several years.

 

In spite of Lilian's efforts to point out the drawbacks and responsibility involved, her daughter had been keen to have a baby for some time now. Lilian did her best to help the couple care for the unborn child, and her daughter gave up smoking and produced a healthy baby girl. What she found out when she walked in the door that Sunday has changed her life, and forced her to postpone her dreams. There was a note from her daughter saying she loved both her parents, but could no longer live with her partner. Lilian had been concerned the couple might move out together, because they were ill-equipped to care for the baby, but she was not prepared for this. " I'd had no idea things were so bad between them. I was bitterly disappointed, " says Lilian. She went through "all the emotions - shock, anger and sadness." The father moved out, and when the pair reconciled, they wanted the baby back and sent the police to retrieve her. Our neighbour hid the baby, and I refused to give her up, and eventually the constable left. Then we had to set up an emergency Family Court hearing. Their lawyer set an adversarial tone, which ignored the best interests of the child, and it was very stressful. "We were granted interim custody, but our daughter was crying and the father was swearing at us. It was a horrible experience - I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

 

The hearing was followed by seven more, every three weeks, and it was the beginning of a long estrangement between daughter and parents. Her daughter went to live with her partner and his family some distance away, and Lilian became aware of circumstances there that she was determined her granddaughter wouldn't be exposed to. "Sexual abuse was happening in the baby's presence", she says, "but to protect her I had to work so hard. I had to prove my own worth every step of the way." While the dispute continued, the baby's parents were allowed access at a relative's home. They never turned up, and after the first hearing did not appear in court. Lilian found the court hearings extremely traumatic. She was cross-examined by her daughters lawyer, and had to explain things about her daughters behaviour she wished she didn't have to speak of. She felt torn, but she knew she had to answer to protect her grandchild. Worse was to come. Lilian faced embarrassing questions about her own fitness as a parent, based on information her daughter had provided. "They labelled me as a control freak," says Lilian., "but I only wanted my granddaughter to have the best possible start in life, and I'd tried to show them how to care for their baby." In the end I decided it was best to put all my own skeletons on the line. Why should I try to hide anything?"

 

Lilian was granted interim custody, but that was only part of the battle - she and her husband had to work out how to make ends meet with an extra mouth to feed. After the first hearing, Lilian applied to the department of work and Income for the unsupported child allowance. "All the time our daughter was away from home and on the DPB she sent us only small amounts for the baby, if at all. She explained to DWI that she had interim custody, and three times she took the baby to appointments initiated by DWI. After a series of increasingly frustrating phone calls, Lilian was told her daughter was going to get her baby back, and a family group conference had already been held, so the unsupported child allowance would not be granted. " I couldn't believe they would turn down a five month old baby. She was entitled to enough money for her care, but was getting only a tiny morsel of it. I became really angry, and I quoted the United nations Convention on the Rights of the child at the case manager. Her daughters relationship then ended after she was assaulted by her partner. " The assault was a turning point in the case," says Lilian. "But I had to give the information to the court, and I hated doing it. It's such a relief things have come to a conclusion".

 

The custody arrangements can be challenged again, but Lilian's daughter has assured her she won't try for custody again. She is now contributing substantially to the baby's care. "A lot of trust has been shattered," say's Lilian, "and I want us to rebuild it. She's involved with caring for her daughter, but still not ready for the full responsibility". Lilian says they'll keep the baby until she is independant. "She is our little girl now - you can't put a judical judgement on bonding. She is our taonga" Parenting is a lot different second time around, she's found. "I feel I have been given a second chance, and I can do extra that I couldn't do the first time. And having been through it before, you know what to expect." But it's still not easy. "I'm sad that the baby isn't with both her real mother and father" she says. "She's become attached to her koro (grandfather), but it should be her father she takes to". Her older daughters have also taken on extra responsibility, and sometimes are resentful their sister "made the baby" they sometimes care for. "But they've learned what it means to bring a baby into the world, " says Lilian. It's been a hard learning experience, both for her and her daughters. "In our (Maori) culture, it's natural for grandparents and other relatives to look after children when necessary, but in this society grandparents have no rights at all. Once I had speaking rights in court, I was treated fairly, but the system doesn't work in the best interests of the child."

 

Lilian also found solace in the Grandparents raising grandchildren support group. "I realised I wasn't the only one in this situation, and that a lot of people have much worse cases than mine" she says. "It was good to be able to go along there and talk." Other members of the group say she has been very fortunate to incur legal costs of less than $2000. Lilian's lawyer, Fiona Morris, has several grandparents seeking custody of their grandchildren amongst her clients, and says most are surprised to find others in the same position. "They're so isolated". Morris says. "It's an amazingly selfless thing to do, to go through this process as well as putting their lives on hold to care for the children. Usually in the end everything works out really well for the grandparents". Lilian, meanwhile is thankful to be able to get on with looking after her granddaughter. "I'm proud to belong to my iwi, my hapu, and my whanau, and to be doing a jolly good job with my own family".