My sister and Ana

I've got to clear things up from a previous post.  I want to apologize to my readers.  In the last post when I talked about my friend I was talking about myself, and my sister is the person I was talking about with a seven year old daughter.
So let's start fresh.  My sister has been on drugs three times.  The first time from fourteen to twenty-three, then she got clean and lived with me for two years until she got married the first time.  She was married for eighteen months, and then separated and she came to live with me again  Then after five years of living life clean she went back to drugs and moved back to California after starting on drugs again.
On July 12, 2005 she stopped drugs and was drug and alcohol free until about a year ago when she began drinking. A month ago she began drugs again.
In November of 2005 she became pregnant and in July of 2006 she had a beautiful little girl named Ana.  Her pregnancy was hard, and she passed out from various reasons.  Ana was as keyed up as her mother when she was a baby, and she was hard for my sister to raise.  She woke up and fussed alot.
My sister had come back to live with us soon after she got off drugs, but she was very different.  I and my daughters very much grieved for the person we use to know.  She came back telling the truth, but the vibrant person that she once was now was gone.  There was so much she didn't understand, and in so many ways she was much more like a child.  My son he had trouble getting along with her because he was use to how his sisters dealt with life, and that was not the way my sister lived.
My sister was nice but volatile, and anxious even when things were going well.  She didn't understand basic things, and she didn't always get what people were telling her.  She was very impulsive, and at times would 'shoot herself in the foot' when things were going pretty good.  For the first several months I would have to go to her doctors' appointments with her because she needed me to explain what the doctor had said and what was going to happen.  She had trouble with basic things.
There were people that advised me to have her place her child for adoption.  I couldn't.  You see my sister had had two tubal pregnancies, and a miscarriage.  The doctors had told her she couldn't have children.  Six months before she got clean her father had died.  Most of her life she hadn't known him, but then he became a part of her life, then suddenly he was gone.
When she found she was pregnant with Ana it was a miracle, and I promised God and my sister that no matter what I would uphold her motherhood because I knew it was the only wish she had ever had for herself.  She wanted a child more than anything and had been devastated with each pregnancy she lost.  She was so frightened she would lose Ana too, but together she and I prayed through and she was blessed with a beautiful daughter.
There was no way I could take her motherhood away from her.  So instead since I was the one that didn't even talk to her about adoption, even though I knew for Ana it would be a much better option, I vowed I would do everything in my power to help Ana and my sister, and I would help her to learn to be a good mother.  So, I did everything in my power to make life better, and when my sister became anxious I would calm her down, when Ana wouldn't go to sleep easily I would help my sister settle her down.  When Ana woke up in the middle of the night screaming, and my sister unawake woke up angrier than a mama bear, one of my daughter's would be there to grab Ana and settle her down as her mother calmed down from the sudden sound.
When Ana was eleven months old my sister got upset and left, and we didn't see her for three days.  She got an apartment, though she didn't have money, and then she had to get a job.  So once more we had Ana.  We helped her find an apartment closer to us so that it would be easier for her to bring her to our home while she worked.  Around this time, my sister began working as a flagger for road construction.  This would take her out of town for five to six days twenty four hours a day, and she would be home one to two days.  We basically were raising Ana.  Sometimes she would become very sick when she got home and so she was hospitalized for three-five days a few times.
Once she came home with pneumonia and the other two times the doctors talked about heart trouble.  In November of  2008 the doctors told her 'no more flagging'.
She had an enlarged heart and was going into heart failure.  She had found a boyfriend while away and he moved here to be with her.  She couldn't work while the doctors were trying to figure out what was going on, and so he took over.  They got a little house, but he didn't like us, so he would throw a fit if she allowed Ana be around us or even if she came over here.  I got so fed up that I didn't speak to them for four months because I was afraid of what I would say in front of Ana.  Finally she landed in the hospital, and asked her friend to call me.
She's my sister.  I was there in a heartbeat.  We were going on a short vacation that day, and she asked me to take Ana with us.  This began a tense new beginning.  Ana was a different child.  She was withdrawn, frightened, and painfully thin.  While we were gone my sister attempted suicide and ended up in the hospital for a mandatory four day stay, and so we were asked to keep Ana until she was stabilized.  Her boyfriend wasn't allowed to be alone with Ana, and she had a case worker visiting with them every other day.
In November of 2009, on my birthday, my sister and Ana moved back in with us, and even when it was rocky she stayed with us until January a year and a half ago when she punched my son in the chest.
She didn't know I heard it happen, and then I knew I couldn't let this go on.  So for the last nineteen months she has lived on her own, or with a boyfriend, or at Ana's father's house.  For a couple weeks over Christmas she stayed with us again, but that was almost to much.  Now for the last three months she's had a little house, and I was hoping was finally becoming stable.  That was until Saturday when I received a frantic call from my sister.  She was canceling my niece's birthday party and hour before it was suppose to happen.  This was the first indication that something was desperately wrong.
I in my only style, took over. I offered to get a cake and make it happen.  It could be a couple hours late, but at least it wouldn't just be cancelled.  After doing alot of talking we made this happen.  My sister was jumpy and not really relating to what was going on.  She would grab the presents out of Ana's hands before she could really even see them.  It was strange, and it was while watching her I knew the truth.  Sunday we received a call, my sister was hysterical.  That was the day that all my worst fears were confirmed.
That's the day I found she was back on drugs, and had been hurt, beaten, and forced to do things no one should ever do.  No one knows how much Ana saw, and very honest I am still sick inside thinking about it. My daughter stayed with her that night, and Monday we tried to help my sister get help, but she refused. The next day Megan and I forced the issue.
We went to the court, and signed papers to have her committed to a substance abuse program.  That evening we talked with Ana's father--  The guy I had been led to believe was such an aweful person.  He wasn't.  He didn't want to take Ana from her mother.  He just wanted to protect her like we did, and so talking to him we came up with a game plan without getting Child Protective Services involved.
My sister detoxed in the hospital the rest of Tuesday, all of Wednesday, and was moved to rehab on Thursday afternoon.  The hearing to decide if she had to stay was today, and the judge decided on inpatient. We don't know how long she will be in there.  It could be a week and it probably won't be four weeks, but somewhere in between I would guess.
To go to the court was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  I am so against intervening, but I know my sister's heart condition, and I know how weak she is.  Every time she ended in the hospital (and that has been on average at least every other month for the last five years.) I've been there with her.  Her heart doctor is at Mayo, because locally they don't know what to do for her.  I know everything about her condition, and I know that taking Meth will kill her.  When my sister wouldn't take action, I didn't know what else to do. Until today my sister wouldn't even talk to me.  That was after yelling at me and telling me how much she hates me and telling me I was a liar and that she would make me pay.  You know what?  It hurt.  More than words can even say, it hurt.
Still, I love my sister, and I am willing to risk losing her love if it saves her life and saves her ability to be Mom to Ana.  At the hearing she looked away from me, and I could see the tears in her eyes.  I wanted to hold her and comfort her, but I also could see she was still very angry.  It hurt.
Then tonight she called, and in tears ask me to forgive her.  I know there is so much more healing, but at least it has begun and my sister has the help she needs.  And through this there has been healing for all of us. God works through our hands, and sometimes when we see it as so dark there is light we can't see until afterwards.  This is one of those times.  Thankfully...