My sister was born with drugs in her system. The person who carried her for eight months is a drug addict. But no one was aware of it until my sister was born.

I was 13 and already had two younger sisters. I didn’t want another sibling. My parents had recently gotten divorced and I didn’t like the idea of them being split up. I thought maybe we would be a family again. But they both were seeing other people. And then my dad’s girlfriend got pregnant.

One weekend we were driving in the car with my dad and out of nowhere he goes “quieres ver a tu hermana?” She had just been born that day. We ar- rived at the hospital. I got to hold my little sister Renesme for the first time. She was so small and delicate.

The visit only lasted 10 minutes. And then my sister was taken away by DCF. My sister who had been alive less than 24 hours was getting taken away from us. I was angry, confused, frustrated, the list kept going. This wasn’t how my life was supposed to go, I wasn’t supposed to have another sister. But when I held her I felt something, that little girl is my blood. I couldn’t hate someone who didn’t ask to be here. This is my sister.

A few weeks later, I found the big white binder at my dad’s house with my sister’s entire case. I learned about how my sister had drugs in her system. I understood why my sister was taken away. But I was still upset and my dad was not going to let her get lost in the system.

I don’t understand the state’s logic, but my dad had to undergo numerous drug tests to gain custody of my sister. Just because my sister’s mom was on drugs and was unfit to be a mother didn’t mean my dad was on drugs and was an unfit dad. My dad raised three girls perfectly. My dad had scheduled visits every week with my little sister at the DCF office. He didn’t miss a single visit. But my dad is not a single mother. He’s a single father. The court couldn’t see my dad taking care of my sister because he is a single father. The court kept telling him, he needed help. No matter how hard my dad was trying, the court did not see him as fit to take care of my sister.

Two long years went by. My dad finally gained full custody of my sister on June 13, 2017. I love my little sister to death. Seeing her grow up her first two years not able to live with us made me so sad, especially the first few months seeing her go through withdrawal.

My sister may never know her birth mother, but she will always know that my dad never gave up on her. He was there for her as much as the court would let him be. She will never forget who “Pina” is. (She can’t say my name yet so that’s what she calls me). I’m her oldest sister, the closest thing she has to a mom. She won’t forget her two foster moms who took good care of her for the first two years, and she won’t forget her little sister and brother who she grew up with in the foster home. My dad lets her foster family visit my sister often, because they are her family as well. They might not be blood family but they gave her something the woman who carried her for eight months wasn’t able to give. My sister lost one mother and gained three. My sister is a healthy three year old who is drug free, and has so many people in her life who love her and care for her.

Not only did I gain a little sister, I gained a whole new entire family that I love so much. Family isn’t always about who has the same blood as you. It’s about who is there for you and loves you unconditionally.

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