ANDIE Fontaine was 14 when she gave birth to her first child, a little girl she named Joy.
Still living at home with her mother, she kept the baby for only eight months. Child and Family Services was involved from the start because Andie's younger and older siblings had been in and out of the child welfare system.
The grandparents who fostered 'Joy.' Privacy laws dictate they cannot be identified.
The agency said they wanted to keep an eye on the situation.
They did. The result, say the child's grandparents, is a traumatized toddler living in squalor.
Andie's mother quit her job to take care of the baby and her other kids. There were frequent visits, often overnight, with John and Jenny Connors, Joy's father's parents.
They began those visits and sleepovers when Joy was one week old.
When Joy was eight months old, Andie asked the Connors if they would take the child. She wanted to finish school and eventually find work, she said. She wanted to give her little girl a better life.
Her own mother wanted to go back to work.
The couple, who thought they were done raising kids, agreed to the temporary arrangement.
On April 19, 2005, an agreement was drawn up and signed by the Connors, Andie Fontaine and her mother. Joy would live with her grandparents. They would receive her child tax credits. They would assume all responsibility for the little girl.
It was a compromise but it seemed best for the baby.
(The names of everyone in this story have been changed to protect the identity of Joy, now three years old. Joy's father, Jenny Connors' son, has no involvement with the baby).
The Connors, who live in a 55-plus apartment block where Jenny is the caretaker, got permission to have the baby in their home. They met all the CFS requirements necessary to become what is known as "a place of refuge."
They didn't have a separate bedroom for Joy, but curtained off a portion of their large bedroom.
"If you showed her how to do something twice she could do it," brags Jenny Connors. "She has an extremely good vocabulary. She loves water. She's been a very, very loving child."
The grandmother, only 42, spreads an envelope filled with photos on the dining room table. In every one, Joy is beaming.
"We raised (Joy) until March," says John Connors, a 55-year-old federal government employee. "Andie was supposed to be getting her act together. She was supposed to be going to school, but that was too hard. She was supposed to go to AFM (the Addictions Foundation of Manitoba) and to take an anger management course.
"She dropped AFM because she said it wasn't doing any good."
He sneers.
When Andie was 16, the couple called CFS and asked them to help the young mother get her life on track. They'd bring the child to her mother's place for a visit and she wouldn't be there. They were worried about Joy's future.
They wanted help.
"We wanted to be the grandparents again," says John. The pair had no way of knowing where their request would take the family.
"We thought they'd do what was best for (Joy)."
Connors grinds out the words, a bitter twist to his mouth. That was their hope. It wasn't fulfilled.
When Andie turned 17, she applied for independent living. She was provided with her own suite by CFS, a place the grandparents describe as nothing more than a hovel. She was given more frequent visits with her daughter.
At first, Joy went to her mother two days a week, then started to stay overnight on weekends. The child still referred to Andie by her first name, calling John and Jenny mama and papa.
They tried to correct her but she insisted.
Andie decided she was ready to be a full-time mother although she was now pregnant with her second child and unemployed. The grandparents believe she had a miscarriage before her third pregnancy.
She demanded her daughter back. Child and Family Services backed her.
"They have their mandate to return children to their birth parents no matter what," says Jenny Connors.
Andie is aboriginal, as is Jenny Connors. John Connors is not.
John rubs his fingers together when asked why the teenager wanted to reclaim her toddler.
"Money," he spits out. "They'd give her a two-bedroom apartment and more money if she had Joy."
What had began as an amicable, if unexpected, relationship with Andie and their granddaughter quickly fell to pieces. The couple was terrified she wasn't looking after the child. They appealed to CFS, the Children's Advocate, social workers and doctors for help.
They are willing to admit they have been a thorn in the side of anyone they believe can (or should) help their grandchild.
On their visits with Joy, who still stayed with them overnight on weekends, they began to notice behaviour changes. There was an untreated rash on her buttocks and genital area. It turned out to be impetigo, a highly contagious infection. The baby also had chicken pox.
They took Joy to the doctor and then straight to the CFS office to report what they considered neglect. They feel they weren't taken seriously.
Joy now has nightmares, they say, and has become clingy. They believe she is being traumatized in some way. Andie has a boyfriend who is living on and on with her. Other people also stay at the apartment, people they've never met.
They fear the boyfriend's influence in the child's life.
In a letter to the child's social worker dated Aug. 5, John and Jenny laid out their worst fears:
"The last few times that (Joy) has visited us she has displayed some behaviour that we think gives cause for concern," they wrote. "We were sitting at the table one night and (Joy) looked at (John) and said, 'Papa, you have bedroom eyes.' She repeated it a few times.
"For a while she has been attempting to kiss us in an abnormal and inappropriate manner, eyes closed and mouth open. She has attempted to slip (Jenny) the tongue. This past weekend when we had (Joy) for a visit she did something else.
"(Joy) was having her bath and she laid on her back in the tub and pulled her knees up and then with her two hands she pulled (her genital area open) and said, 'Mama, look at this.' She did this a couple of times and then again when she was having her diaper put on. (Jenny) has mentioned these things to (Andie) and (Andie) denied ever seeing (Joy) do this."
Jenny starts to cry when she describes her concerns.
"It's either abuse or she's seeing something," she says, distraught. A picture of Joy wearing a grin and a Santa hat sits on the table in front of her. "She was such a happy little girl and all that has changed."
John clenches a fist.
"Sunday, she watching a movie with me and she says, 'my uncle kisses me and I like it.' We don't even know who she means."
Jenny says the little girl is crying out for help.
"She says 'I don't want to go to (Andie's) place. I don't like it there.' We want her safe. We would take her back. We'd have to move. We don't care. We just want her to be safe."
John stares in silence at the little girl's picture.
"If she's left there she doesn't have a hope in hell," he finally says. "I go to bed and I wake up with nightmares. We're hoping that CFS, for once, will be Winnipeg CHILD and not Winnipeg PARENT."
On Aug. 30, Andie told the Connors she no longer wanted them to see Joy. She said her decision was backed by her CFS worker. Just after the Labour Day weekend, the couple requested mediation to help them secure visits with Joy.
They are prepared to go to court, if necessary, to maintain a relationship with the child.
On the first of September, Andie changed her mind again and allowed the Connors to have the toddler for the weekend. They have no confidence she'll keep this arrangement.
Andie Fontaine is due to give birth again on Sept. 20.
lindor.reynolds@freepress.mb.ca
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