Mother has fateful change of heart

Mother has fateful change of heart

Fla. woman backs out of adoption; families deal with aftermath

By DAN GEARINO, Courier Des Moines Bureau

That was five months ago. The people involved are still picking up the pieces.

On Sunday, the Lee Enterprises Des Moines Bureau examined a pattern in Sioux City in which pregnant women relocate from across the country to the same apartment complex on Glen Oaks Boulevard, planning to place their children for adoption. The women's rent and other expenses are paid by the prospective adoptive parents through their lawyers, though some of the women use food stamps and Medicaid.

Today, the focus is on one of those women --- Christine Kilmer, 41, formerly of Bradenton, Fla.

Kilmer's story illustrates the emotional strain of relocating a pregnant woman for an adoption. And it also shows how easy it is for any woman to enter into an adoption plan --- a plan that, in this case, has led to heartbreak for Kilmer and the Nebraska couple who hoped to adopt her child.

There is also the larger question of whether adoption-service providers do enough to help mothers.

"We turn real-live, flesh-and-blood women into baby-making machines who are supposed to give us their products and go away. Well, that's not acceptable on a human level and not acceptable on a practical level," said Adam Pertman, an author and executive director of the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute in New York.

Sioux City lawyer Maxine Buckmeier represented the prospective adoptive parents in Kilmer's case and oversaw Kilmer's living arrangements. Buckmeier, 43, said she tries to help mothers improve their lives.

"A lot of times these women just need someone who will help them. If they come here, we can help them," she said.

Panic leads to Iowa trip

Kilmer remembers panicking when she found out she was pregnant. She said the pregnancy happened just as she was trying to get her life on track after problems with men and run-ins with the law.

But now her relationship with the father was ending, and she was afraid of what her family would think of her being pregnant at her age.

She drove west to visit friends and her brother, joined by her 4-year-old daughter from a previous relationship.

She picked up a free newspaper in Arkansas and saw a classified ad for Adoption Insight, a Holtville, Calif., adoption facilitator. She still has the newspaper, the June 9 issue of a shopper published in Fort Smith, Ark.

She called Adoption Insight a few days later and spoke to its owner, Laurie Aragon.

"I told her I was thinking of adoption. And she says, 'Are you willing to relocate?' And I said, 'Sure.' She said everything there (in Sioux City) was better," Kilmer said, interviewed at the Sioux City homeless shelter where she was living in November.

Aragon and Buckmeier both said Kilmer was eager to relocate and talked about staying in Sioux City after the birth. They said Kilmer told them she was homeless, feuding with her family and eager to be part of an adoption.

Kilmer drove to Sioux City and moved into the apartment complex. She learned that she would live on weekly $75 checks from Buckmeier's law-office checking account, made out to Wal-Mart. This payment arrangement follows Iowa law, which allows prospective adoptive parents to pay some living expenses, as long as the payments are not made directly to the mother, Buckmeier said.

But resources for food and health came from the government. Kilmer said David Gill, the lawyer recommended by Buckmeier and assigned to represent Kilmer's interests, helped Kilmer fill out an application for food assistance and Medicaid. Buckmeier said Gill's legal fees were paid by the prospective adoptive parents, which she said isn't unusual.

Gill declined to comment about Kilmer or even confirm she was a client. Speaking in general, he said he advises some clients about options for public assistance, depending on the client's needs.

Birth leads to grief

In August, roughly two months after Kilmer moved to Iowa, she met with a Nebraska couple interested in adopting her baby. This was to be an open adoption, meaning Kilmer would have some contact with the adoptive parents.

Paul and Lori, who spoke on the condition that their last names and hometown not be listed, drove to Sioux City to meet with Kilmer. The husband and wife were working with Adoption Insight --- Laurie Aragon's company --- to find a mother. Buckmeier had previously handled the adoption of their only child, a son who is now 6.

After the first meeting and a long conversation, Kilmer and the Nebraska couple agreed to be matched with each other in an adoption plan.

"We had a fairly good comfort level," Lori said, interviewed by telephone.

Kilmer gave birth a few weeks later on a Friday at St. Luke's Medical Center, with Paul and Lori present in the delivery room. Kilmer said she was privately wrestling with grief at the thought of going through with the adoption.

She didn't share this for the first two days after the birth, she said, because she thought the feeling might go away. It didn't.

"At the time I didn't want another child, and then I fell in love with her," she said.

Three days after the birth, just hours before Kilmer was scheduled to sign the papers to begin the adoption process, she told the hospital staff she was going to keep the baby, which is her legal right.

At that time, Paul was out of the hospital with their son, and Lori was there by herself. A nurse took her into a private room and told her the news.

"We were so sure" the adoption would happen, Lori said, her voice quivering.

Homeless and childless

Kilmer said the lawyers, including her lawyer, Gill, responded to her decision by urging her to change her mind.

"For days they called me, day and night," she said.

Buckmeier denied this happened.

When Kilmer refused to reconsider, she said she was given a day to leave her apartment, just four days after giving birth.

"I believe it was explained to her what was going to happen if she decided to parent that child. Lori and I weren't going to continue to pay the rent," Paul said.

The couple had spent more than $12,000 at that point, they said, half of which was for living expenses. Paul said Kilmer was free to get a job or find some other way to cover her rent.

Almost immediately, the Iowa Department of Human Services looked into the case and placed a temporary hold to stop Kilmer from taking the newborn away from the hospital. A few days later, DHS removed the 4-year-old from the homeless shelter.

At a Sept. 15 hearing, a nurse testified she had called DHS and she described why.

"I had gotten a call from Maxine Buckmeier to say that (Kilmer) had chosen to keep the baby, which is her right, but she wanted to let us know that she was homeless," the nurse testified, according a transcript of the hearing.

The nurse testified Buckmeier's phone call led her to speak to Kilmer, a conversation that heightened the nurse's concerns because Kilmer did not seem to have a plan for how to deal with her homelessness and was talking about driving her family across the country to stay with relatives. The nurse then called DHS.

A hospital spokeswoman declined to comment.

Buckmeier, who did not testify at the hearing, said she did speak to hospital employees to report that the adoption was off and simply answered their questions. She said she played no role in the DHS referral.

"The social workers asked me, 'What is her plan?' And I said, 'You'll have to ask Chris.' Then the social workers asked, 'Will she go back to the same apartment?' and I said, 'Well, she'll have to pay the rent.' That was it," Buckmeier said.

Kilmer believes the combination of her being evicted and Buckmeier's call to the hospital are retaliation for not going through with the adoption, a claim Buckmeier denies.

'We're fighting very hard'

Once the state began to look at Kilmer's background, it found a troubled past that included children with other fathers and at least one previous example of the government taking children away, according to the hearing transcript.

She testified at the hearing that she pleaded guilty to child abuse in New Mexico in the mid-1990s, a plea she said she made without understanding the consequences. She contends abusive men in her life made false reports she was hitting her children.

New Mexico court officials said they have no record of Kildmer.

The hearing transcript also makes reference to Kilmer serving prison time for violating the terms of her probation; she said she was sentenced to 21 months in prison in the late 1990s and served 18 months.

A DHS investigator found enough evidence to place the newborn and 4-year-old in foster care while a judge decides on a long-term placement, according to the transcript.

Kilmer's mother, Tude Kilmer, 62, rushed up from Florida in mid-September to help her daughter attempt to regain custody.

"I said, 'Don't sign any papers. I'll be right there,'" she recalled.

Christine and Tude Kilmer lived together in a Sioux City homeless shelter for more than a month while they sought other housing. They now share a room in a small house. They survive on Tude's pension check and Christine's money from part-time jobs.

They never expected to be here this long, but they have failed in every attempt to gain custody of the children. The children are living with a foster family.

The Kilmers have two scheduled visits with the children each week. They get a third visit by attending the church where the foster father is pastor; the children also attend. The families sometimes spend time together after the services.

Paul and Lori have moved on, working with Buckmeier to make an adoption plan with another woman living in Sioux City. They don't feel ill will toward Aragon or Buckmeier, and they feel Kilmer had an honest change of heart.

But the Kilmers can't move on so easily. Their most recent hearing was Jan. 30, when a judge ruled the children need to remain in foster care at least through the summer.

Though the Kilmers most recently lived in Florida, they are originally from the New York area. Tude speaks with a New York accent that gets thicker when she talks about the situation.

"We're fighting very hard. Every hour, every day that goes by is too long," she said.

Contact Dan Gearino at (515) 243-0138 or dan.gearino@lee.net.