<p>My kid was that medically fragile child of a single mother, and there were several times in his early years where I felt as though I had no choice but to keep him in a potentially unsafe situation. </p>
<p>Because of the difficulties of finding care in the city where I live/work, my child was on daycare waiting lists for more than a year before he was born. I toured daycares and paid for waiting list slots before my first meeting with the social worker that lead to the homestudy that allowed me to adopt him. Despite this advanced planning, by the time he was born and my maternity leave and the following summer were over (I’m a teacher) he had made it to the top of 1 list. When his medical issues were diagnosed there was no way to simply change centers. I had no remaining FMLA protection until the following year. Losing childcare at that point would have meant losing him, as I wouldn’t have been able to work to pay for the insurance that paid for the medical care that cost more than my annual salary. The adoption agency would have pulled him back.</p>
<p>So, when the daycare teacher of the class he was supposed to be in told me “I don’t want him here, I’ll be too sad when he dies”, and the director said “I’m sorry but I need to honor my staff’s wishes you’ll have to find care elsewhere”, it was the mention of ADA that lead to her finding him a space in the other class.</p>
<p>When I arrived at daycare to find him asleep, with his apnea monitor unplugged and an assistant teacher who told me she was “keeping an ear out in case he stopped breathing” (whatever that sounds like), I started looking into centers for medically fragile kids, but I didn’t pull him. </p>
<p>When we finally got to the new center, the one with the full time nurse, and I came to work and discovered that they’d forgotten to feed him, even once, during an 8 hour school day (kids with feeding tubes don’t cry when you forget to feed them), I started looking for a third center, but I didn’t pull him right away.</p>
<p>When he ran out of life-sustaining medication at the same second center, and the nurse didn’t remember to tell me until I told her how alarmed his doctor was at his decreasing lung function, I didn’t pull him, just prayed we make it through the few remaining weeks in the school year. </p>
<p>When the nurse at the third center called me to say that the bus driver had come to pick him up (driver because they were across town and open 6 hours a day, while I, of course, worked 8) in a new van with no carseat, I flew across town to rescue him, and thanked her profusely, but the next day I sent him back on that bus, which by then did have a carseat, because I had no other choice.</p>
<p>All of these things happened before his 2nd birthday. In every case it broke my heart to send him back, but still, looking back, I don’t know what else I could have done.</p>