After a medical misdiagnosis, my kids were wrongfully taken from me. It took 5 months to get them back.
- Lorina Troy took her son J.J. to the hospital, where doctors suspected abuse.
- J.J. later received a diagnosis of a medical condition that causes fluid in the brain.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lorina Troy. It has been edited for length and clarity.
When my son J.J. was born, something seemed off from the beginning. His head measured large, and he frequently vomited. But my pediatrician, the urgent care, and the ER all dismissed my concerns. Finally, after J.J.'s 4-month appointment, his pediatrician ordered an MRI of his head. And that was the start of our nightmare.
I was at home with mastitis, so my husband, Jason, took J.J. to the hospital. He was the one who called and told me that the MRI showed fluid in J.J.'s brain. Doctors thought someone had shaken him.
I was in complete shock. I immediately packed up our older son, who was 4, and went to the hospital. I told doctors that J.J. had never been hurt. I cried and begged for a second opinion and more tests. I asked the doctor whether there could be medical conditions causing the fluid.
He said, "Yes, but since he's a baby and can't talk, we're going to go with abuse."
After that, I couldn't be alone with my kids
Child Protective Services came to the hospital and interrogated me and Jason separately. They told us we needed a safety plan. That meant Jason had to leave the house, and I needed a family member to move in with me. I wasn't allowed to be alone with my own children.
A few weeks later, CPS decided to remove my children entirely. They showed up with police officers. I had my baby in my arms — an infant who I knew had a serious medical condition. They took him and wouldn't even let me pack formula or his stuffed animals.
My 4-year-old asked if they were going to hurt him. Through tears, I had to tell him no. My kids had never been away from me for a night, but I didn't see them for a week and a half after that. I prayed every day for God to give me the strength to get through the situation.
I watched the system fail and inflict harm
You can spend your entire life thinking the system is there to protect you — that CPS is there for the good of children. But for my family, that wasn't true. My 4-year-old lost 20 pounds while he was in foster care. My infant cried and cried.
And through it all, Jason and I knew that if we wanted to be reunited with our kids, we had to play by their rules. We hired attorneys and followed our parenting plan. Finally, after five months, the children's court-appointed special advocate — a person assigned to push for the interests of the children — said the boys should return home. He had seen how the children clung to me and Jason, and he knew we weren't abusing them.
I wish I could say that was the end of the nightmare, but it wasn't. Jason had been charged with two felonies. They were later dropped, but he lost his top-secret clearance and his job. We sold our house and maxed out our credit cards to pay more than $80,000 in legal fees.
We moved on with our lives and into advocacy
After 2 1/2 years, everything was resolved. But we never got an apology from anyone.
Despite that, we've moved on with our lives. Our daughter, Kalea, was born two years after J.J. Her name means joy and happiness.
We also got an answer for what caused the fluid in J.J.'s brain. He has benign external hydrocephalus, a condition where fluid builds outside the brain. He's 7 now, and he still has a shunt to help drain the fluid.
Today, I advocate for families like mine. I've testified before the Texas House of Representatives and some senators, and I've met with lawmakers in Nevada and California. I've written a book about my experience. My message is simple: Parents accused of abuse are entitled to a second opinion.
With that precaution, the system could do what it's meant to do: protect children. It could spare families like mine unnecessary mental, emotional, and financial heartache and direct resources to children who need them.