LITMIR.BIZ

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breathing difficulties, seizures and even death. I failed to understand why such an item would be available for the public to buy at all, but then of course you can buy virtually anything on the Internet now. There was a picture of a bottle of the syrup, just like the one Aneta would have bought to make her children sick. I reminded myself again that FDIA was a mental illness and I shouldn’t demonize Aneta.

Wanting to know more about her illness so I could try to understand it, I typed Munchausen by proxy – as FDIA is more commonly referred to – into the search engine and found a medical website that gave a lot of information. I began to read: Munchausen syndrome by proxy (MSP), also known as Factitious Disorder Imposed on Another (FDIA), is a mental illness that affects caregivers, especially mothers of small children. Someone suffering from FDIA will act as though their child is sick. They will lie to doctors about their child’s health in order to gain attention and sympathy. They may also intentionally make their child sick, resulting in painful or risky medical procedures for the child. Someone who has FDIA may cause symptoms by withholding food or fluid, poisoning, suffocating, giving the child inappropriate medicines or not giving them prescribed medicines.

      Common symptoms and illnesses found in the victims of FDIA are vomiting, diarrhoea, seizures, breathing difficulty and asthma, infections and allergic reactions. This was exactly what Molly and Kit had been suffering from, induced by the syrup. I read on. Identifying someone with FDIA is difficult. Many have suffered mental, physical or sexual abuse growing up. I had no idea if that was true of Aneta. People who have FDIA appear to be attentive parents, concerned with the well-being of their child. That was also true of Aneta. Many times, the child’s symptoms do not match a single disease. True again.

      One way to confirm suspicions of FDIA is to separate the mother from her child and see if the symptoms disappear. Unless, like Aneta, you continue to poison your children from a distance, I thought bitterly. Doctors can look at patterns of appointments and hospital attendance. For example, a child who presents with a range of different illnesses in a short time may cause suspicion. The article ended: If you believe a child is currently a victim of FDIA, you should contact the police or child protection services.

In view of what I’d read, I wondered if the doctors should have suspected something was wrong sooner, but that was for the health authority to look into. I answered the emails in my inbox and then, exhausted after a gruelling week, switched off the computer, made a cup of tea and went into the living room to write up my log notes. It was only when I opened my log that I realized it was Friday the 13th. Associated with bad luck and misfortune, it seemed quite fitting, given what had been revealed today. But foster carers are expected to be professional and non-judgemental, so I wrote up my log notes objectively and dispassionately. The weekend beckoned and we had a lot to be grateful for: Molly and Kit were healthy and were being allowed to stay with us. My family and my mother were all doing well, so I needed to stop worrying. Sometimes that’s easier said than done in fostering.

      During the weekend my thoughts often returned to what Aneta had been doing to her children, but overall it was a good weekend. Probably the best we’d had since they’d arrived. The pressure had eased now they’d stopped being sick, and now I knew they would be with us for Christmas I could plan ahead. On Saturday, Lucy, Paula and I took Molly and Kit into town to do some Christmas shopping. I had a lot to buy for and having the girls there meant they could distract the children while I bought some of their presents. We spent over an hour in the toy shop and then another hour in the toy area of the department store. Many new toys were on display for children to explore and play with (and persuade their parents or carers to buy!). Lucy and Paula also began their Christmas shopping, and we had lunch out. It was such a relief to know Molly and Kit could eat what they wanted and I didn’t have to worry about possible allergens the food or drink contained. However, it would take time before I completely got out of the habit of checking labels – I found myself doing it automatically.

When we arrived home that afternoon, I decided to give the children the toy mobile phones I’d bought for their leaving gifts, minus the card. I could have added them to their Christmas sacks, but I thought it would be nice if they had them now to enjoy. We didn’t need to keep them amused from then on; they spent most of the time on their phones, pretending to make and receive calls. Kirsty came in to say hello to everyone and then she and Adrian went to see a play at the repertory theatre in a neighbouring town.

      The children slept well and I woke to hear Molly on her phone, pretending to talk to Kit. Kit’s phone was downstairs. Sunday was a bright, cold day and I took the children to a park a short drive away that had different play equipment. Lucy came with us, but Paula stayed at home to complete some college work, having been out shopping with us for most of the previous day. Later we all had dinner together, and then prepared ourselves for Monday and the start of another working week.

      ‘Are we seeing Mummy on Monday?’ Molly asked as I took her to bed.

      ‘No, love, not tomorrow.’

      ‘Can I see Daddy?’

      ‘Not at present.’

      ‘When can I see Mummy and Daddy?’ she asked plaintively. I felt so sorry for her.

      ‘I’m not sure, love. Tess is coming to talk to us next week. We will ask her then.’

      ‘I miss Mummy and Daddy,’ she said, her little face puckering and close to tears.

      ‘I know, love. It’s difficult. But it’s important we keep you and Kit safe and healthy – just as you are now.’

      An older child might have asked more and delved deeper, but at Molly’s age she didn’t have the reasoning or vocabulary to do that, although she would intuit what she couldn’t verbalize and needed lots of reassurance and hugs, just as Kit did. Despite what their mother (and possibly their father too) had done to them, they loved their parents.

On Monday Tess telephoned, asked us what sort of weekend we’d had and then said she’d visit us on Wednesday afternoon at two o’clock. She didn’t have anything new to tell me at present. When I finished the call, Molly asked me who was on the phone.

      ‘Your social worker, Tess,’ I said. ‘She’s coming to see us on Wednesday. That’s not today or tomorrow but the next day.’

      ‘Will I see Mummy and Daddy then?’

      ‘No, love, but we can ask her about that.’

      ‘You ask,’ she said.

      ‘Yes, I will.’ I gave her and Kit another big hug.

      I took the children to our local park on Monday afternoon, and then on Tuesday a fostering friend of mine visited. She was looking after a four-year-old boy who attended nursery five mornings a week. He played nicely with Molly and went out of his way to include Kit in the games, even adapting them for a younger child. He was only three months older then Molly, but his social skills were far more advanced. He was able to organize little games and knew how to take turns and share. I thought again that Molly would benefit from nursery and playing with similar-aged children. She played with Kit sometimes, of course, and my family, and I spent hours playing with both children, but she needed to interact with her peer group. I made a note to raise the matter with Tess. Previously Aneta had objected to the children attending nursery or playgroup on the grounds they were susceptible to germs and it would make them ill. That concern had now been negated. It wasn’t germs that had been making Molly and Kit ill, but Aneta. I didn’t see any reason why Molly shouldn’t start attending nursery for a few mornings a week, even if their mother still objected.

On Wednesday, five minutes before Tess was due to arrive, I changed the boxes of toys in the living room for fresh ones in the hope that Molly and Kit would be kept amused while Tess and I talked. Unfortunately, Tess was half an hour late, by which time the children had tired of the toys, so I changed them again. I find that rotating toys allows children to come to them afresh. I’d put their mobile phones out of sight as the noise they made, especially when on together, would make it difficult for Tess and me to concentrate or

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