January 23, 2026

On August 28, 2025, my son Bennett was removed from my care by the Ministry of Children and Family Development. Not because he was in danger. Not because I had hurt him. But because I said no to a placement I didn’t believe was safe for him.

The legal standard for removing a child from their parent is supposed to be high. There must be real, immediate risk. The state must exhaust less intrusive options first. Families are supposed to be supported before they’re torn apart.

None of that happened here.

Who Bennett is
Bennett just turned seven. He’s autistic, has ADHD and anxiety, and lives with a rare genetic condition. He has severe gastrointestinal issues and depends on a feeding tube for some of his nutrition. His care requires careful coordination between medical teams, behavioral therapists, and specialized educators.

I’ve been managing that coordination since he was born. Every hospital stay. Every specialist appointment. Every IEP meeting. I’ve shown up, learned, adapted, and fought for him when I needed to.
That’s not neglect. That’s motherhood under extraordinary circumstances.

What Actually Happened
In late July, I became seriously ill and was hospitalized for over a month. I didn’t just drop Bennett off somewhere and hope for the best. I made sure he was admitted to BC Children’s Hospital where his medical needs could be safely managed.

While I was recovering:
∙ Bennett’s behavioral team provided 24-hour support at his bedside
∙ His uncle Dylan visited regularly and stayed involved
∙ I called and FaceTimed Bennett every single day
∙ I stayed in touch with his doctors and nurses
∙ I sent his favorite snacks and comfort items to the hospital

I also started arranging in-home nursing care so Bennett could be discharged to Dylan’s care until I was well enough to come home.

I was parenting from a hospital bed. That’s what you do when you don’t have a choice.

The Trap
While all this was happening, the Ministry kept pushing a Special Needs Agreement that would place Bennett in a group home.

I had concerns. Real ones. The staff weren’t trained on G-tube care. There was no nursing oversight. Bennett would be the only child under twelve in a facility designed for older kids.

I asked questions. I flagged risks. I looked for alternatives.

On August 25th, I told them I didn’t want to sign the agreement.
Three days later, my son was gone.

The Allegations That Appeared From Nowhere
Suddenly, there were “protection concerns.”

The Ministry claimed I’d threatened to harm Bennett. That I neglected his care. That he was better off without me.

None of it was true.

The behavioral specialists who spent hours with Bennett every day testified that those allegations were false—and that the Ministry had misrepresented what they’d actually said. Medical records showed I’d been diligent, not neglectful. Even hospital staff confirmed I was actively involved throughout his admission.

But the timing tells you everything you need to know. These concerns only appeared after I refused the placement they wanted.

What the Law Actually Says
Under BC’s child protection law, removal is supposed to be a last resort.

Before a child is taken, there must be:
∙ Immediate danger to the child’s safety
∙ No less disruptive option available
∙ Objective evidence, not speculation

We had clear alternatives:
∙ Dylan had obtained interim guardianship and was ready to care for Bennett at my home
∙ I’d arranged in-home nursing support
∙ The behavioral team was already in place
∙ A supervision order could have allowed Ministry oversight without removal

Every single option was ignored.

Instead, they did the one thing guaranteed to traumatize my son most: they took him from everyone he knew and loved.

The Actual Harm
The day Bennett was removed:
∙ His behavioral team was told to leave and never came back
∙ He was cut off from all family contact for 13 days
∙ His play therapy was canceled
∙ He was pulled from his specialized school
∙ Everything familiar to him vanished overnight

Even under cross-examination, the Ministry admitted they’d changed “almost every aspect” of Bennett’s life at once.

For an autistic seven-year-old with complex needs, that kind of upheaval isn’t just stressful. It’s devastating.

What They Got Wrong
Here’s what breaks my heart most: the Ministry treated my advocacy as a red flag.

Asking for help became evidence I couldn’t cope. Raising safety concerns became refusal to cooperate. Fighting for what Bennett needed became obstruction.

Good parents are supposed to question placements that don’t feel right. We’re supposed to know our limits and ask for support. We’re supposed to put our children’s needs above bureaucratic convenience.

I did exactly what a good parent should do.
And I lost my son for it.

What Happens Now
My lawyer has laid out the full picture for the court. The evidence is clear: there was no immediate danger. There were less harmful alternatives. The removal wasn’t justified.

Bennett should never have been taken.
And more than anything, he should be home.

Not because the system finally decided to help us. Not because I signed the paperwork they wanted. But because a mother who has always shown up for her complex child deserves the chance to keep doing exactly that.

With support. With dignity. With her son.