So, I've mentioned "Matching Panel" in passing. What I can't really even begin to describe in a way that does it any justice whatsoever, is how truly daunting "Matching Panel" is.
When you start on the journey to MP, you are probably more emotional and manic than at any other point of your life, ever. Because you are linked with a child.
After all of those years and all of that preparation, we were finally linked. We then had to complete a Matching Report, with Annie and Chris. This is a report which goes into unbelievable detail as to why you, and only you, are worthy of this specific child. We had received Mozza's placement report, detailing his birth family and (fairly short) history to date. It was sobering reading, as Mozza has siblings, and the treatment of his siblings was the reason that he was taken to be adopted at birth. You can only imagine how harrowing that was to read. But mixed in with that was a huge amount of emotion and feelings that we never knew we had. Firstly, reading about his birth parents - trying to reconcile their actions and their own life stories with the fact that they were also the genetic engineers behind the little miracle who would be our son. Despite their actions...despite what the other children had been through, these people would always be Mozza's birth parents, and we had to approach their stories with the most open of minds.
We had to read his report and study it with a fine toothcomb, because we then had to take his report and our report and make a brand new report. One that told why no one else in the world should have this baby, and why we should.
Can you imagine?
Why this baby? Why you? What can you give to him that no one else can? How will you deal with x, y and z? How will you tell him his life story? How will you talk to him about why he can't live with his birth parents? How will you raise him? How will you provide for him? How will you give him the best life possible in a way that no one else could? What makes you so special?
What makes you so special that we should give you this child?
In 40,000 words.
Then - the what-ifs?
"Bectora and The Lam - Mozza is very young. There are no guarantees about his future, and there are question marks over birth family history...so, what if...?"
What if he has developmental delay? What if he is on the spectrum? What if he has genetic learning disabilities? What if he has Hepatitis B? What if he has attachment disorder? What if he has speech delay? What if he has low motor skills? What if, what if, what if...
And the fact is....so what? He was already our son, so none of that was a reason to not proceed. But to have to convince a panel of that is another matter entirely.
So, we had our panel date. But we hadn't told anybody, except very close family. Because ALL THE TIME - all the time we were doing this preparation, and counting down the minutes, we had it drilled into us every five seconds - "PANEL MIGHT SAY NO"
Preparing for this, the most important step in the process, and therefore the most important day of our lives, we were flying solo. Despite having spent years telling us that we needed our support network to get us through the hard times, Annie was now telling us that we couldn't even talk about it with anyone. Couldn't even tell anyone he existed. I knew that if we were successful at Panel, I would be finishing work for a year two days later. But I couldn't tell anyone. Projects and assignments were coming up, different people trying to book meetings with me, colleagues trying to recruit me to run Summer School, students trying to get me to tech their performances... I just had to keep putting people off, all the time trying not to think that if we were unsuccessful, I'd have to do it all anyway.
Also having to lie. Our friends calling us...texting us...."Have you heard anything yet?" And we would respond with a "No, nothing," and then be launched into a conversation about how rubbish Social Services were, and how they needed to pull their finger out because didn't they know we'd be amazing parents?
And all the time, just wanting to stand on the roof and shout..."He's real. And he might just be ours"
Panel day dawned, and we dressed in our finery again, knowing that there could be photos for posterity. Wanting to remember every second of the day, whilst all the time desperately hoping we wouldn't want to forget. We spoke to our parents, and then we left the house. And, apart from our nearest and dearest, nobody knew. Everyone was just going about their business, like it was a normal day. Nobody was on the phone wishing us luck. Nobody was getting excited about the potential baby in our lives, because nobody knew. We were excited, apprehensive, nervous, thrilled and alone.
So we drove to that building another time. And we signed in, and we sat in the waiting room, and we waited.
We were the number one slot of the day. We entered the room - there were fifteen people on one side of the board room table, and there was us, Annie, Chris, Babette and Danni (the family finder) on our side.
The Chair of the Panel introduced herself and everybody else around the table. All of these people who had read our Matching Report at length, and knew everything about us - our histories, our dreams, our hopes, our aspirations - our desires. I have no idea who they were - they included a doctor, some other social workers, someone from the court, someone from children's services, the agency "decision maker", a couple of lawyers - I don't know. Just a load of people who, as it turned out, were the most important people in the world.
Panel started. I'd like to tell you what was said, and what was asked, but I can't. Some things for confidentiality, and some because I can't really remember - we talked about lifestyle, and plans, and finances, and the dog. We talked about behavioural management, contingency plans, social worker meetings, the contact plan with the birth family. We talked about why we wanted him, and why we were right for him. We talked about how we planned to deal with temper, and nappies and feeding and nurturing - what our long-term back to work plans were, how extended family would play a part. We talked about our support network, local amenities. We talked about our wonderful friends who had met with Annie and provided us with references. We talked about how our life experiences would be used to create a new world for Mozza.
Annie and Chris and Babette were also grilled. They talked at length about why they approved of this match so much they were prepared to stake their professional reputations on it.
We talked about how much we already loved him.
We talked for nearly an hour and a half, and then they sent us out of the room whilst they made the decision.
So we sat. And we waited.
And we waited
For nearly ten minutes.
And for the first time, we thought something had gone horribly wrong. What could they be talking about?
The chair of the panel came in. She wasn't smiling. She simply said, "We are ready for you to return"
We stood up. I'm pretty sure the world was shaking. We went back into the room to be met by...
smiles.
Everyone was smiling, and Chris was wiping away some tears.
We sat down, and the Chair looked at us and said
"We are delighted to approve this very special match, and think that you will be a wonderful family"
Approve?
Annie automatically handed me a tissue, and then - me and The Lam broke. I think I might have said "thank you," I don't know...I think I might have hugged a couple of them.
I think that, at that moment and for the first time ever, I knew why I was born. For that.
Approve. "We are delighted to approve."
PANEL SAID "YES"
And we knew what that meant...this was it. After ten years, this was it...we would get everything that we'd ever wanted. Me and The Lam, - we were getting Mozza. Mozza was real, and he was going to come home and live with us forever. We could stand on the roof and tell the whole wide world. PANEL SAID YES.
We left the room, somehow, and went into the office. Chris presented us with a beautiful photo of Mozza to take away with us, and we got our diairies out and planned the following week of meetings and intros. Annie told us to go crazy at the weekend and buy everything we'd need, and to enjoy preparing for Mozza coming home.
We left the building and got into the car. We got our phones ready to phone everybody and let them know they could buy blue balloons and babygros, but first...first we looked and one another and burst into tears...
...because finally...finally....we had a son.
Saturday, 2 June 2012
Friday, 1 June 2012
Words Upon a Page
Words
Upon a Page
To our son
You grew inside our hearts and minds, from words upon a page
A list of all the things we’d want - your name, your sex, your age
Not like other babies, and not like any other mummy
I knew I’d never feel you grow inside my tummy.
Instead you grew in meetings, in homework and in books
On paperwork and talking, we’d search and we would look.
We had to learn about a world we never knew before
We knew the journey we were on, but not what was in store.
So months they passed, and even years before things were moving on
We didn’t know what to base our hopes and feelings on.
Panels and interviews, approvals and judgement days
All moulded into a block of time, lost inside a haze
And so much time to think of you, our unknown future child
Would we ever meet you? Had you already smiled?
When had been your birthday? Had you blown the candles out?
Were you walking, had you talked? Were you filled with doubt?
Were you a little baby? Or were you ready-grown?
Would we ever find you, and love you like our own?
Would you be a little boy? Or would you be a girl?
Would you be blonde, like mummy, straight hair, or with a curl?
Had your past come into play? Were you feeling sad?
What kind of life were you in? What family had you had?
It was too hard to think of the future that we craved
We didn’t know when you would come and when we would be saved
Our “pregnancy” lived on and on, no tangible kicks we felt
No due date ahead of us, the hand that we were dealt.
And all the while, a feeling, that we had done things differently
Would we ever be good enough, for you to be happy?
Questions from all around, and no answers we could give
We didn’t know how far away you were, or where you lived
Training and preparation, books and conversations
Would the evenings filled with darkness ever turn to celebration?
Would we find you this year? Or would it be the next?
Would we ever smile again, or live life as a guest?
We wanted to be a family, more than you ever knew
We just knew we were waiting, waiting here for you
And we knew that we would simply know, when our child came along
We hoped after all these years, it wouldn’t take too long.
And then - a phone rang one day, to bring the news of you
Subdued and oh so serious, still with so much to do
But details, details that we had - words upon a page
A tiny little baby boy, just twelve short weeks in age.
Not allowed to be excited, or share our news around
But we celebrated privately, because you had been found.
We knew there were some obstacles, meetings - judgement too
But in our hearts we really knew, that our son was you.
The weeks ticked by with thoughts of you filling both our heads
Little Mozza - out there. Was he in his bed?
Was he having fun today? Drinking milk, smiling yet?
We had no clue where you were, but our future was all set
Panel day arrived - a group deciding all our fate
An early morning slot meant we wouldn’t have to wait.
An hour or so inside the room, promising that we’d be
Everything and more to you - a loving family
We told of how we loved you, from the first words on the page
And that love had grown stronger, with each passing stage
A photograph of baby you, and words from those who knew
All combined to prove to us, how much we wanted you.
We spoke and spoke right from our hearts, and then were asked to leave
While a verdict was considered - did that panel believe?
Did they have faith in both of us, that we three were so right?
Would this be (oh finally) our celebration night?
The minutes they ticked on and on, the longest we had known
Slowly passing by until we might call you our own
And then we were called right back in, to listen to our fate
For those long years had all boiled down to this everlasting wait.
The panel looked right at us, and smiles were all around
They told us that they knew the ideal match had just been found
That we were right to be your parents, that you were right to be our boy
Never had we felt such unadulterated joy.
The tears rolled down our cheeks, and I swear my heart just stopped
With love and smiles and happiness, I truly thought I’d pop.
The “yes” we heard from panel, was the loudest ever word
It filled our hearts and lives and heads, the best word ever heard.
We celebrated all day long, and cried all through the night
We knew that we’d been waiting for this feeling - oh, so right.
Champagne was popped, and we both knew our lives would start to change
A feeling that we never knew we’d feel, it was so strange.
A week of introductions, where we would finally meet our son
We couldn’t wait for that day, our lives had just begun.
The drive to go and meet you was the very strangest drive
We’d never felt more scared - and never more alive.
We entered the house so nervously, this moment - this was it
The moment that we’d know if we were a perfect fit
Walking through an open door, my eyes were drawn to you
A mother’s love inside me. Oh Mozza - I just knew.
I picked you up and held you, and my life was so complete
All those years of waiting, for that moment pure and sweet.
Daddy held you too, and we looked at one another
No more waiting to be had - we couldn’t run for cover
For we were faced with eternity, of changing - 2 to 3
And we could think of no other place that we’d rather be.
The week of introductions flew by inside a blur
It lasted both a lifetime, and gone inside a whir
And then we brought you back with us, to your forever home
A mummy and a daddy you could finally call your own.
And each day that has passed since then, we’ve loved you more and more
And still can’t believe you’re here - just what we were waiting for.
You’re embedded in our lives, my son, it all revolves around you
And there’s nothing on this planet, that we would rather do.
Every single day my heart fills with more love than I’ve known
From simple words upon a page, you’ve turned into our own.
No, you didn’t grow inside me, son, but you were born inside my heart
And this feeling I hold within, I know is just the start
From concepts and conversations, homework and making lists
It’s only now you’re here, that we know this love exists
You complete us, little Mozza, you make us perfect and whole
And making you safe and happy is our only aim and goal.
We are a special family, brought together in clinical ways
But we know that we’ll be happy for the rest of all our days
Your smile, your laugh, your cheeky grin, the silly things you say,
The way you look at both of us, brightens up the day
The instant recognition and the happiness which emanates
From you as the centre of our world, makes our hearts palpitate
You are our every reason, son, you complete our family
There’s nothing else I’d rather have - than you, Daddy and me.
So never wonder, Mozza, if our family was a whim
Because I’ve spent my whole life wanting you, and it’s my heart you’re in
To our son
You grew inside our hearts and minds, from words upon a page
A list of all the things we’d want - your name, your sex, your age
Not like other babies, and not like any other mummy
I knew I’d never feel you grow inside my tummy.
Instead you grew in meetings, in homework and in books
On paperwork and talking, we’d search and we would look.
We had to learn about a world we never knew before
We knew the journey we were on, but not what was in store.
So months they passed, and even years before things were moving on
We didn’t know what to base our hopes and feelings on.
Panels and interviews, approvals and judgement days
All moulded into a block of time, lost inside a haze
And so much time to think of you, our unknown future child
Would we ever meet you? Had you already smiled?
When had been your birthday? Had you blown the candles out?
Were you walking, had you talked? Were you filled with doubt?
Were you a little baby? Or were you ready-grown?
Would we ever find you, and love you like our own?
Would you be a little boy? Or would you be a girl?
Would you be blonde, like mummy, straight hair, or with a curl?
Had your past come into play? Were you feeling sad?
What kind of life were you in? What family had you had?
It was too hard to think of the future that we craved
We didn’t know when you would come and when we would be saved
Our “pregnancy” lived on and on, no tangible kicks we felt
No due date ahead of us, the hand that we were dealt.
And all the while, a feeling, that we had done things differently
Would we ever be good enough, for you to be happy?
Questions from all around, and no answers we could give
We didn’t know how far away you were, or where you lived
Training and preparation, books and conversations
Would the evenings filled with darkness ever turn to celebration?
Would we find you this year? Or would it be the next?
Would we ever smile again, or live life as a guest?
We wanted to be a family, more than you ever knew
We just knew we were waiting, waiting here for you
And we knew that we would simply know, when our child came along
We hoped after all these years, it wouldn’t take too long.
And then - a phone rang one day, to bring the news of you
Subdued and oh so serious, still with so much to do
But details, details that we had - words upon a page
A tiny little baby boy, just twelve short weeks in age.
Not allowed to be excited, or share our news around
But we celebrated privately, because you had been found.
We knew there were some obstacles, meetings - judgement too
But in our hearts we really knew, that our son was you.
The weeks ticked by with thoughts of you filling both our heads
Little Mozza - out there. Was he in his bed?
Was he having fun today? Drinking milk, smiling yet?
We had no clue where you were, but our future was all set
Panel day arrived - a group deciding all our fate
An early morning slot meant we wouldn’t have to wait.
An hour or so inside the room, promising that we’d be
Everything and more to you - a loving family
We told of how we loved you, from the first words on the page
And that love had grown stronger, with each passing stage
A photograph of baby you, and words from those who knew
All combined to prove to us, how much we wanted you.
We spoke and spoke right from our hearts, and then were asked to leave
While a verdict was considered - did that panel believe?
Did they have faith in both of us, that we three were so right?
Would this be (oh finally) our celebration night?
The minutes they ticked on and on, the longest we had known
Slowly passing by until we might call you our own
And then we were called right back in, to listen to our fate
For those long years had all boiled down to this everlasting wait.
The panel looked right at us, and smiles were all around
They told us that they knew the ideal match had just been found
That we were right to be your parents, that you were right to be our boy
Never had we felt such unadulterated joy.
The tears rolled down our cheeks, and I swear my heart just stopped
With love and smiles and happiness, I truly thought I’d pop.
The “yes” we heard from panel, was the loudest ever word
It filled our hearts and lives and heads, the best word ever heard.
We celebrated all day long, and cried all through the night
We knew that we’d been waiting for this feeling - oh, so right.
Champagne was popped, and we both knew our lives would start to change
A feeling that we never knew we’d feel, it was so strange.
A week of introductions, where we would finally meet our son
We couldn’t wait for that day, our lives had just begun.
The drive to go and meet you was the very strangest drive
We’d never felt more scared - and never more alive.
We entered the house so nervously, this moment - this was it
The moment that we’d know if we were a perfect fit
Walking through an open door, my eyes were drawn to you
A mother’s love inside me. Oh Mozza - I just knew.
I picked you up and held you, and my life was so complete
All those years of waiting, for that moment pure and sweet.
Daddy held you too, and we looked at one another
No more waiting to be had - we couldn’t run for cover
For we were faced with eternity, of changing - 2 to 3
And we could think of no other place that we’d rather be.
The week of introductions flew by inside a blur
It lasted both a lifetime, and gone inside a whir
And then we brought you back with us, to your forever home
A mummy and a daddy you could finally call your own.
And each day that has passed since then, we’ve loved you more and more
And still can’t believe you’re here - just what we were waiting for.
You’re embedded in our lives, my son, it all revolves around you
And there’s nothing on this planet, that we would rather do.
Every single day my heart fills with more love than I’ve known
From simple words upon a page, you’ve turned into our own.
No, you didn’t grow inside me, son, but you were born inside my heart
And this feeling I hold within, I know is just the start
From concepts and conversations, homework and making lists
It’s only now you’re here, that we know this love exists
You complete us, little Mozza, you make us perfect and whole
And making you safe and happy is our only aim and goal.
We are a special family, brought together in clinical ways
But we know that we’ll be happy for the rest of all our days
Your smile, your laugh, your cheeky grin, the silly things you say,
The way you look at both of us, brightens up the day
The instant recognition and the happiness which emanates
From you as the centre of our world, makes our hearts palpitate
You are our every reason, son, you complete our family
There’s nothing else I’d rather have - than you, Daddy and me.
So never wonder, Mozza, if our family was a whim
Because I’ve spent my whole life wanting you, and it’s my heart you’re in
A
pregnancy on paper, a labour made in court
Words on a page, so much happiness they’ve brought.
You’re in our heads and hearts and minds every single minute
Our family is perfect, now that you are in it.
We love you
Words on a page, so much happiness they’ve brought.
You’re in our heads and hearts and minds every single minute
Our family is perfect, now that you are in it.
We love you
When Mozza came home
You know. I have written many things over the last few years, but I stopped blogging. Because I needed to experience. But I'm ready now - I'm ready to tell our story. Because the "Road to Adoption" ended when we'd walked so far down it, we actually reached "FamilyVille."
We got Mozza!
We got Mozza...he found us. After years of not believing, Mozza came to us, and it actually happened. We got what we never dared to dream that we could have. Mozza came home.
This series of blogs is not really chronological, but then adoption does weird things to you. I shall attempt to put into words a few of the circumstances surrounding our transition from two to three.
Day One
On the first day, we looked around us - we had a house full of cards, bags full of hand-me-downs from excited relatives, and a diary clear of any commitments for a month...but as The Lam and I stood together,looking down at the 4 and a half month old baby in the moses basket, we genuinely had no idea what was going on.
Nothing can prepare you for adopting a baby, which seems an odd thing to say after the three intensive years of preparation we have been through - but nothing can prepared you for it, because you are physically not prepared, in the way that biological families are.
Biological families have a tangible thing to look at and feel, in the shape of the pregnancy. That baby is there and it's theirs. And you take 9 months to slowly and gradually prepare, physically and mentally. And like it or not, at some point you slow down. You have to. You can't physically carry on, and your body sorts you out and makes you think about becoming a parent.
There was none of that for us. Even though we knew he was coming, and we had done everything required of us, until the day Mozza came home, life was exactly the same as it always had been. We were still working, taking the dog for a walk, going out at the drop of a hat. We were still a couple. The night before he came home, we had been to a restaurant, had a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, and "celebrated" our last night as a twosome. And then, BAM! Eighteen hours later, after a final assessment, listening to the foster carers talk to Social Services about how well we had handled "intros" (which deserve an entire blog to themselves) and watching the foster family say sad goodbyes to the little boy who was already our son, as we were absolutely itching to take him home, suddenly it happened - we were at home with baby Mozza. We had closed the door on the world and on all of those wonderful people from Social Services who had been our constant companions for three years. And all at once it was just us. Just the three of us. For the first time ever, and forever.
We are that very lucky couple. Everyone says that there are "no babies" in the system, but we are living proof that there are. Mozza's placement order was granted exactly 12 weeks after he was born. Fifteen minutes after court finished, Annie phoned me at work, and said (in the calmest voice I have ever heard); "You have been linked with a baby. He's a littlie. He's three months old."
From that second, our lives changed forever. We had his file that afternoon, three days later we had a visit from his social worker (Chris) and the Family Finder. This visit was like no other - he was suddenly a real baby, and we were suddenly talking about specifics. They HAD to like us. They had to see the same thing in us as people as they had seen in our PAR.
The visit lasted 5 hours. Annie had said to us beforehand "If they show you a photo of the baby, then it means they want to go ahead"
After 4 hours and 50 minutes, the photo came out. I think i held my breath for around the next ten hours. Not daring to exhale. Not daring to believe that this could actually be it.
The following day we had the fantastic, unbelievable, incredible phone call saying that they liked us, approved of us and wanted to proceed with the match. I remember I was at work, ina Year 8 lesson. I never normally have my mobile with me in a classroom, but it hadn't left my side all day. The phone rang and I simply walked out of the room and answered it. I think I cried. I can't remember the rest of the day!
Within a month we had met his (wonderful) foster carers, his medical adviser, and, along with Annie, Chris and Babette, completed our 40-page matching report. The most important document in the world, detailing exactly why we were his parents and he was our son. In 40,000 words.
Within 5 weeks of that first phone call, we were at matching panel (more on matching panel later)
Ten days later, Mozza was home.
Adopting a very young baby is incredible. It doesn't happen that quickly very often, but it is in the baby's best interests to be swift. Every day we count our blessings that we were chosen for him, and settling him into our lives and routines was a doddle. We got all the “firsts” that we never dared to imagine...words, steps, birthday. We didn't get first Christmas - but on that Christmas Day, for the first one ever, we knew about him. We knew that he was on his way to us, and we raised a glass to the little boy who was wearing his first Santa outfit somewhere in Yourjshire, knowing he would soon be home.
And then when he came home - we got those firsts - "I love you, Mummy/Daddy", the first holiday, the first....nearly everything. How did that happen to us!?
Alongside the incredible fortune, however, is the weirdness. Suddenly consumed by this little person, and thrust into a world completely alien, all at once. People talking to me about Bounty Packs and Health Visitors, and venturing to baby groups, where other Mums ONLY talk about pregnancy, birth and labour, and ask all sorts of intrusive questions. Getting him weighed at the Children's Centre, and feeling like a childminder, because you can't join in with stories about stretchmarks and stitches. The strangers who stop your pram in the street to ask you who he looks like - you or his Dad, and the neighbours who couldn’t remember whether or not you had been pregnant, but were too polite to mention. The people who ask how much he weighed at birth, and how long he was in hospital for. Of course, we were furnished with that information, but - well, it happened to someone else. And whilst not wanting to engage with strangers about our unusually constructed family, not being completely honest felt, for the longest time, utterly fraudulent.
We have the “telling” to come, and we know that there are likely to be issues borne from Mozza's erratic start. We know there will be questions - difficult questions - about his birth family, and we know that for Mozza, issues around his identity are going feature very strongly. But Mozza is the product of two families - the ones who genetically created this perfect little boy, and our family who are nurturing him through his life. That's rather special.
We are so very lucky that we will have known our son for nearly all of his life, and two and a half years on, we can’t remember a time when he wasn’t here.
We got Mozza!
We got Mozza...he found us. After years of not believing, Mozza came to us, and it actually happened. We got what we never dared to dream that we could have. Mozza came home.
This series of blogs is not really chronological, but then adoption does weird things to you. I shall attempt to put into words a few of the circumstances surrounding our transition from two to three.
Day One
On the first day, we looked around us - we had a house full of cards, bags full of hand-me-downs from excited relatives, and a diary clear of any commitments for a month...but as The Lam and I stood together,looking down at the 4 and a half month old baby in the moses basket, we genuinely had no idea what was going on.
Nothing can prepare you for adopting a baby, which seems an odd thing to say after the three intensive years of preparation we have been through - but nothing can prepared you for it, because you are physically not prepared, in the way that biological families are.
Biological families have a tangible thing to look at and feel, in the shape of the pregnancy. That baby is there and it's theirs. And you take 9 months to slowly and gradually prepare, physically and mentally. And like it or not, at some point you slow down. You have to. You can't physically carry on, and your body sorts you out and makes you think about becoming a parent.
There was none of that for us. Even though we knew he was coming, and we had done everything required of us, until the day Mozza came home, life was exactly the same as it always had been. We were still working, taking the dog for a walk, going out at the drop of a hat. We were still a couple. The night before he came home, we had been to a restaurant, had a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, and "celebrated" our last night as a twosome. And then, BAM! Eighteen hours later, after a final assessment, listening to the foster carers talk to Social Services about how well we had handled "intros" (which deserve an entire blog to themselves) and watching the foster family say sad goodbyes to the little boy who was already our son, as we were absolutely itching to take him home, suddenly it happened - we were at home with baby Mozza. We had closed the door on the world and on all of those wonderful people from Social Services who had been our constant companions for three years. And all at once it was just us. Just the three of us. For the first time ever, and forever.
We are that very lucky couple. Everyone says that there are "no babies" in the system, but we are living proof that there are. Mozza's placement order was granted exactly 12 weeks after he was born. Fifteen minutes after court finished, Annie phoned me at work, and said (in the calmest voice I have ever heard); "You have been linked with a baby. He's a littlie. He's three months old."
From that second, our lives changed forever. We had his file that afternoon, three days later we had a visit from his social worker (Chris) and the Family Finder. This visit was like no other - he was suddenly a real baby, and we were suddenly talking about specifics. They HAD to like us. They had to see the same thing in us as people as they had seen in our PAR.
The visit lasted 5 hours. Annie had said to us beforehand "If they show you a photo of the baby, then it means they want to go ahead"
After 4 hours and 50 minutes, the photo came out. I think i held my breath for around the next ten hours. Not daring to exhale. Not daring to believe that this could actually be it.
The following day we had the fantastic, unbelievable, incredible phone call saying that they liked us, approved of us and wanted to proceed with the match. I remember I was at work, ina Year 8 lesson. I never normally have my mobile with me in a classroom, but it hadn't left my side all day. The phone rang and I simply walked out of the room and answered it. I think I cried. I can't remember the rest of the day!
Within a month we had met his (wonderful) foster carers, his medical adviser, and, along with Annie, Chris and Babette, completed our 40-page matching report. The most important document in the world, detailing exactly why we were his parents and he was our son. In 40,000 words.
Within 5 weeks of that first phone call, we were at matching panel (more on matching panel later)
Ten days later, Mozza was home.
Adopting a very young baby is incredible. It doesn't happen that quickly very often, but it is in the baby's best interests to be swift. Every day we count our blessings that we were chosen for him, and settling him into our lives and routines was a doddle. We got all the “firsts” that we never dared to imagine...words, steps, birthday. We didn't get first Christmas - but on that Christmas Day, for the first one ever, we knew about him. We knew that he was on his way to us, and we raised a glass to the little boy who was wearing his first Santa outfit somewhere in Yourjshire, knowing he would soon be home.
And then when he came home - we got those firsts - "I love you, Mummy/Daddy", the first holiday, the first....nearly everything. How did that happen to us!?
Alongside the incredible fortune, however, is the weirdness. Suddenly consumed by this little person, and thrust into a world completely alien, all at once. People talking to me about Bounty Packs and Health Visitors, and venturing to baby groups, where other Mums ONLY talk about pregnancy, birth and labour, and ask all sorts of intrusive questions. Getting him weighed at the Children's Centre, and feeling like a childminder, because you can't join in with stories about stretchmarks and stitches. The strangers who stop your pram in the street to ask you who he looks like - you or his Dad, and the neighbours who couldn’t remember whether or not you had been pregnant, but were too polite to mention. The people who ask how much he weighed at birth, and how long he was in hospital for. Of course, we were furnished with that information, but - well, it happened to someone else. And whilst not wanting to engage with strangers about our unusually constructed family, not being completely honest felt, for the longest time, utterly fraudulent.
We have the “telling” to come, and we know that there are likely to be issues borne from Mozza's erratic start. We know there will be questions - difficult questions - about his birth family, and we know that for Mozza, issues around his identity are going feature very strongly. But Mozza is the product of two families - the ones who genetically created this perfect little boy, and our family who are nurturing him through his life. That's rather special.
We are so very lucky that we will have known our son for nearly all of his life, and two and a half years on, we can’t remember a time when he wasn’t here.
Saturday, 21 November 2009
The Grieving Process and the Good Bits!
There are some real upsides to adoption too. It doesn't always feel like it, but getting through the home study and learning all the new things that we have learned, have not only allowed us to come to terms with some things, but also to actively embrace them.
The thing is, for adopters like us - people who have come to adoption through infertility - there is a lot of grieving to overcome before you can properly move on. That may sound a little over-dramatic, but it's true.
First of all you have to learn to grieve for the life that you'll never have - and like other forms of grief you go through stages with it. For a long time I felt incredibly angry that this choice has been taken away from me. It just didn't seem fair! But you have to work your way through it, because without accepting your infertility, you're never going to be able to progress.
It's really not easy being infertile. It's a long and lonely road. And the choices and the lifestyle that many people take forgranted, is simply never going to feature for you. And because it is the "norm" for people to have families, then the question is always one of the first you are asked when meeting anyone new - "Do you have any children?"
Ten years ago that question was easier to answer, but having been through the mill with trying to become a family, that question is now loaded and extremely potent. So is the answer - "No, I don't have children"
Ten years ago, that was just words. Now, it is a statement slashed across my heart, like a pick through ice.
I digress, however, as always.
Adoption cures some of these problems. The family life that we want - we can still have. We will still get to do all of those things that we've always wanted to - see our child in school plays, go on family holidays, read bedtime stories to Mozza, pass on learning and knowledge... we still get to do all of that, thanks to our adoption story - but there are some things that we will never have!..
Grieving for our unborn child was hard for me and the Lam, because we struggled to believe that we were a statistic. Even after all the prodding and poking, blood tests, sperm counts, invasive procedures, x-rays and appointments proved that we were just not going to conceive, we still didn't really believe it. And when you still cling onto hope like that, well you're never going to get past it. But we did grieve - we did come to an acceptance. And after all the crap that we went through with the emotional, clinical and difficult IVF journey we went on, we did finally accept that we were never going to have a baby. So we had to grieve.
But when we grieved, we had to grieve specifics - we had to force ourselves to talk and think about things that were really difficult for us. Those conversations were so hard - talking about how we were never going to leave a legacy - that there wouldn't be a family tree beyond us. That the family line ends here - ends with us. Then talking about more emotive parts - that we will never know what our baby could look like. That we will never know if he/she would be blonde like me, or dark like The Lam. We will never know what parts of our genetic coding could be bestowed on a little person that we made together.
Those conversations were sad.
Then there's a different kind of grief - for me, really. A sadness that I won't ever experience being pregnant, or giving birth. Feeling a life grow inside me. Will never have the stories that my Mum told me about her cravings and silly pregnancy nuances. I will never have that, and it's just not fair. And even now, even after all this time, it's still quite hard to hear about other people having babies. Even though I can be happy for them - it's still tinged with an aching sadness for me and the Lam. It is very difficult for me to be around pregnant women - because even though I know and have accepted my fate, I will never really be OK with it.
Then there are other things that we have had to learn to be accepting of. When Mozza comes, Mozza will come with a name. We will never get to name our baby. That was really tough for me. Like most little girls, I had the names. sex and quantity of my children all mapped out. That the names changed on a monthly basis was irrelevant. As a child, it was just the way - one day I would be a mum, and inherent to that process was that I would get to name my baby.
And now I can't - and I still find that really hard. What if I hate the name? I might! There are names that I hate. It's just another stumbling block, but it is one that will always be there.
Another issue is the babyness. We came to terms a long time ago with the fact that we are never going to have a tiny baby - but I ache for this. I want to hold a newborn in my arms. I want all of the firsts - the first feed, the first sleep, the first cry, the first everything - and these firsts aren't going to be with us. Of course, Mozza will have lots of firsts with us - we know that - but there are some moments that we'll never have and can never get back. We probably won't even get first Christmas or first birthday. And for sure we won't get first smile. Or first Mummy or first Daddy. Another process we worked through.
But then - the epiphany. Working through all of the above was tough - and we felt very sorry for ourselves on more than one occasion. But then we came through it - we reached the point where all of the above actually stopped mattering quite as much.
To start with, adoption was about fulfilling our needs as parents - but then we realised that adoption is about fulfilling the needs of our child BY becoming their parents. It's not about us - it's about Mozza. And the day we realised that, was the day that we realised we were ready to be parents.
The fact is, everything that we've worked through is true and miserable and hard. No, we won't have what we always thought we would - we won't have a child that is our physical hybrid (!) and we won't have any memories of Mozza's first few months, and we do miss out on all of those things that I've whined about.
But we DO get Mozza. We DO get our baby, and our family.
And more than that, we get to make a difference. We get to take this child, this beautiful, innocent child, and we get to build a whole family together. We get to be Mozza's Mummy and Daddy and we get the joy that Mozza coming into our lives will bring. We get the elation of meeting Mozza for the first time. We get the amazement of engineering a bonding process. We get the thrill of Mozza's Adoption Day in court - and we get to tell our baby one day, when they're a little bit bigger, that we picked them. Out of all the babies in the world, we get to choose Mozza.
Because when you're matched in the adoption process, you are selected out of a huge bunch of people as the best possible parents. And then you get to look at this little baby's portfolio and say "Yes - that's Mozza"
The saying "You can choose your friends but not your family" doesn't apply. We choose Mozza. And we will know when Mozza has arrived, because even though Mozza's journey to us is on a different road to most other babies, we will know for sure that Mozza is ours.
So, it's true - we miss out on alot. But we gain far more than we lose. We get to make a difference to a child who needs us, and Mozza gets to fulfil a lifelong dream for us. We both get to fill a void - how many people can really say that?
We know how lucky we are.
The thing is, for adopters like us - people who have come to adoption through infertility - there is a lot of grieving to overcome before you can properly move on. That may sound a little over-dramatic, but it's true.
First of all you have to learn to grieve for the life that you'll never have - and like other forms of grief you go through stages with it. For a long time I felt incredibly angry that this choice has been taken away from me. It just didn't seem fair! But you have to work your way through it, because without accepting your infertility, you're never going to be able to progress.
It's really not easy being infertile. It's a long and lonely road. And the choices and the lifestyle that many people take forgranted, is simply never going to feature for you. And because it is the "norm" for people to have families, then the question is always one of the first you are asked when meeting anyone new - "Do you have any children?"
Ten years ago that question was easier to answer, but having been through the mill with trying to become a family, that question is now loaded and extremely potent. So is the answer - "No, I don't have children"
Ten years ago, that was just words. Now, it is a statement slashed across my heart, like a pick through ice.
I digress, however, as always.
Adoption cures some of these problems. The family life that we want - we can still have. We will still get to do all of those things that we've always wanted to - see our child in school plays, go on family holidays, read bedtime stories to Mozza, pass on learning and knowledge... we still get to do all of that, thanks to our adoption story - but there are some things that we will never have!..
Grieving for our unborn child was hard for me and the Lam, because we struggled to believe that we were a statistic. Even after all the prodding and poking, blood tests, sperm counts, invasive procedures, x-rays and appointments proved that we were just not going to conceive, we still didn't really believe it. And when you still cling onto hope like that, well you're never going to get past it. But we did grieve - we did come to an acceptance. And after all the crap that we went through with the emotional, clinical and difficult IVF journey we went on, we did finally accept that we were never going to have a baby. So we had to grieve.
But when we grieved, we had to grieve specifics - we had to force ourselves to talk and think about things that were really difficult for us. Those conversations were so hard - talking about how we were never going to leave a legacy - that there wouldn't be a family tree beyond us. That the family line ends here - ends with us. Then talking about more emotive parts - that we will never know what our baby could look like. That we will never know if he/she would be blonde like me, or dark like The Lam. We will never know what parts of our genetic coding could be bestowed on a little person that we made together.
Those conversations were sad.
Then there's a different kind of grief - for me, really. A sadness that I won't ever experience being pregnant, or giving birth. Feeling a life grow inside me. Will never have the stories that my Mum told me about her cravings and silly pregnancy nuances. I will never have that, and it's just not fair. And even now, even after all this time, it's still quite hard to hear about other people having babies. Even though I can be happy for them - it's still tinged with an aching sadness for me and the Lam. It is very difficult for me to be around pregnant women - because even though I know and have accepted my fate, I will never really be OK with it.
Then there are other things that we have had to learn to be accepting of. When Mozza comes, Mozza will come with a name. We will never get to name our baby. That was really tough for me. Like most little girls, I had the names. sex and quantity of my children all mapped out. That the names changed on a monthly basis was irrelevant. As a child, it was just the way - one day I would be a mum, and inherent to that process was that I would get to name my baby.
And now I can't - and I still find that really hard. What if I hate the name? I might! There are names that I hate. It's just another stumbling block, but it is one that will always be there.
Another issue is the babyness. We came to terms a long time ago with the fact that we are never going to have a tiny baby - but I ache for this. I want to hold a newborn in my arms. I want all of the firsts - the first feed, the first sleep, the first cry, the first everything - and these firsts aren't going to be with us. Of course, Mozza will have lots of firsts with us - we know that - but there are some moments that we'll never have and can never get back. We probably won't even get first Christmas or first birthday. And for sure we won't get first smile. Or first Mummy or first Daddy. Another process we worked through.
But then - the epiphany. Working through all of the above was tough - and we felt very sorry for ourselves on more than one occasion. But then we came through it - we reached the point where all of the above actually stopped mattering quite as much.
To start with, adoption was about fulfilling our needs as parents - but then we realised that adoption is about fulfilling the needs of our child BY becoming their parents. It's not about us - it's about Mozza. And the day we realised that, was the day that we realised we were ready to be parents.
The fact is, everything that we've worked through is true and miserable and hard. No, we won't have what we always thought we would - we won't have a child that is our physical hybrid (!) and we won't have any memories of Mozza's first few months, and we do miss out on all of those things that I've whined about.
But we DO get Mozza. We DO get our baby, and our family.
And more than that, we get to make a difference. We get to take this child, this beautiful, innocent child, and we get to build a whole family together. We get to be Mozza's Mummy and Daddy and we get the joy that Mozza coming into our lives will bring. We get the elation of meeting Mozza for the first time. We get the amazement of engineering a bonding process. We get the thrill of Mozza's Adoption Day in court - and we get to tell our baby one day, when they're a little bit bigger, that we picked them. Out of all the babies in the world, we get to choose Mozza.
Because when you're matched in the adoption process, you are selected out of a huge bunch of people as the best possible parents. And then you get to look at this little baby's portfolio and say "Yes - that's Mozza"
The saying "You can choose your friends but not your family" doesn't apply. We choose Mozza. And we will know when Mozza has arrived, because even though Mozza's journey to us is on a different road to most other babies, we will know for sure that Mozza is ours.
So, it's true - we miss out on alot. But we gain far more than we lose. We get to make a difference to a child who needs us, and Mozza gets to fulfil a lifelong dream for us. We both get to fill a void - how many people can really say that?
We know how lucky we are.
Friday, 13 November 2009
The Dark Side of Adoption
...or probably the dark sides of adoption (plural), for it seems they are many!
During this time of waiting, the Lam and I have many moments in which to think things through. Then rethink them, then think some more, then read about them, then talk about them, and then change our minds completely, and then end up somewhere in the middle of extremes of opinion. And still with no resolve, with no earthly idea when Mozza is going to show up - or how old he/she will be when he/she does.
Dark side 1) The Wait.
A friend said to me that it's just like being pregnant. Erm... no it isn't. One of the key differences is that when pregnant - you pretty much know when baby is gonna arrive - ok baby could come early-ish or late-ish, but we're talking a few days or a couple of weeks at most. With adoption - we could still be waiting here in 3 years time. Or we could get a phone call next week. So the dark side here is putting your life on hold. That might not sound like much of a problem - but it is. We can't plan holidays or trips away. It's difficult to commit to anything at work that might be impacted. We have no idea if next Christmas we'll have Mozza, or if it'll be another child-free zone. And believe me - that gets very weary! We've been waiting for Mozza on Adoption Street for 2 years now. Before that we were on IVF Road for 4 years, but Mozza didn't come, so we moved. Before IVF Road we were on Trying Naturally Avenue, but that has always been fruitless. We've been waiting for Mozza for 9 years now - that's not like any pregnancy I know!!
Dark side 2) Finances.
Ok, so most people - if not all - who plan for a family struggle with finances. We're fully aware of that. But we've had to do a financial plan. Current income/expenditure. Proposed income/expenditure. Adoption leave income/expenditure. If it doesn't add up - we ain't getting matched. We have to update social services constantly on any changes to our finances, and send them proof of any major purchases. Like, for example, we bought a new bed. We were asked whether or not we needed one, as that money could have gone into the adoption fund. We suggested we might go on holiday for a few days at Christmas - they can't demand we don't, but they did tell us that it wouldn't be looked at favourably. We've been told to keep our spends low and our savings high, and have to prove we are doing this on a monthly basis by sending our bank statements to social services every single month - for the last year, and on a continuing basis. And if we buy anything on credit, you might as well just take us out at dawn and shoot us. Not a major problem, but very very annoying!
Dark side 3) Health and Safety and Home Environment
OK, so the house needs to be ready when you have a baby - right? Right. Most people would want to do this - we have to. And we have to comply with certain standards before we can even be considered for adoption. Most of this is common sense, and there is no problem behind the reasoning of it - but we have been forced to do it within social services timescale, and that's the really testing part! So far, this is what we've had to do:
Completely redecorate the house. We planned to do this anyway, but because we stupidly told social services, we were told we had to finish it before approval panel - so we spent 4 months ripping off wallpaper, plastering, painting, new carpets etc. Smoke alarms in every room.
Fire extinguishers, fire blankets, changed all the window locks, three new first aid kits, locks on all cupboards and doors, cooker guard, 5 baby gates, new shed, new garden fence, completion of dog training, completely replace the bannisters on the stairs, new lights, lock on the cellar, new front gate, new floor. This is all before approval - way, way before our baby is even a twinkle in social services eye. how annoying!
Dark side 4) What to buy
One of the lovely things about knowing you're going to have a baby, is preparing for the baby. Nesting, decorating, buying little baby clothes, stocking up on nappies, getting the nursery ready. Not only is it lovely, but it's necessary - you need to be ready, and you can't go out and buy all this stuff in one go once baby has arrived.
We have to, though.
Until we go to matching panel, there's no way of knowing what to buy. We can't buy clothes - our age range is 0-2 - we could get a 4 month old or a 24 month old. We can't buy nappies for the same reason. We can't buy a pushchair, a highchair, a car seat, a cot or a bed, toys, bibs, sterilisers.... you name it, we can't buy it. And that's very hard and very sad. We want to get ready for Mozza - we want Mozza's room to look like a nursery - but we can't. We can't even decorate really, because Mozza may well come with trauma which could be triggered by colour. Mozza might want bedsheets like the ones he/she had in foster care because they're familiar. The only things we can really buy are babywipes (and hope to hell Mozza's not allergic) and books. Older books, though, just in case, and wait for Mozza to grow into them. All of which means, of course, that once we're matched we have to go and get everything all at once. Everything! And between matching and intros - it could be as short as one day! Financially that's going to be tough, and physically it's going to be tough - but emotionally it's tough now. We WANT to buy things for Mozza - we're desperate to plan for this littly - and we just can't.
Dark side 5) Trauma
Now we're getting properly dark. All adopted children suffer trauma. This is fact. No matter what their history, by the time they reach their forever Mummy and Daddy (us) they will have experienced at least two circumstances of loss - the removal from their birth family, and their removal from their foster carer. That's the best case scenario. They could have so many paniful, hurtful, terrifying memories from their past, that it will take a lifetime to make them feel safe. At best we're going to have to deal with the fact that we're not the birth family and explain why Mozza couldn't stay there. Other issues could include Mozza not being able to make attachments, not developing properly - motor skills being so damaged by never being held or made safe, that Mozza still might not be able to use a cup properly by the time he/she is a teenager. Developmentally, the probability is that Mozza will be behind his/her peers, and is more likely to suffer anxiety, stress and re-attachment disorder. If there is a more dark side to Mozza's past in terms of real abuse or neglect, then those problems could manifest in countless ways - hitting, biting, bullying, not eating, not washing, fear, not bonding, night terrors...the ways in which adopted children cope with their histories is manifold and heart-breaking. And we don't know how it's going to go. We don't know yet what Mozza will have suffered, and we don't know yet how we're going to start mending it. People say to us "Mozza will be safe and loved with you, and that's enough" - but it's not enough, and we have far more uncertainty in front of us than if we could just conceive Mozza ourselves. The challenges are almost unbearable, and the unknown is scarier still.
Dark side 6) Well-Meaning People
This dark side is not intended to offend. I know that everybody who talks to us about the adoption is well-meaning and interested, and for that we love you. But some of the things that some people say can be bloomin hard to deal with
a) You can have one of mine if you want.
Oh thanks. Flippancy is what I need right now
b) People who have their own kids don't have to be vetted like you
No - but if they did, then perhaps there wouldn't be any children up for adoption!
c) Why is it taking so long?
Because social services have to make sure that the people they entrust this child to, aren't going to abuse or damage them further.
d) All those children in care just waiting - and you've still not been picked.
For every white, healthy baby under 2, there are probably about 20 adoptive couples. These children are not languishing in care - they're just going to other families.
e) Can you change it's name?
No - our child has a name.
f) Can you pick the sex?
Yes, if we really wanted to - but why would we? That's the least of our problems
g) I'll have one for you if you want
Erm... thanks, but no thanks
h) I think what you're doing is wonderful
We just want to be parents.
i) Have you thought about IVF?
Oh once or twice - every day for about 4 years
the list does go on, but at the risk of sounding callous towards people who care, I won't keep going...
Dark side 7) Bonding
Will I love this child enough? It's hard enough to love children born to you. It's hard sometimes to cope with the change of lifestyle that this little person imposes without being a bit resentful. When you add into the mix the fact that this person will drop into our lives a stranger - sometimes I'm scared. Will I love this little child enough to make up for the lack of love that's gone before? Can I mend this baby's broken heart, whilst ensuring the health of my own? Am I strong enough - are WE strong enough - to be able to cope with someone else's baby - and when will they become ours? At link stage? At matching panel? The first photo? The first day of intros? The day Mozza comes home? Ever? I have no answers - it's just another conundrum.
My next blog will be about the light side of adoption. Today I just had some issues which needed writing down!
During this time of waiting, the Lam and I have many moments in which to think things through. Then rethink them, then think some more, then read about them, then talk about them, and then change our minds completely, and then end up somewhere in the middle of extremes of opinion. And still with no resolve, with no earthly idea when Mozza is going to show up - or how old he/she will be when he/she does.
Dark side 1) The Wait.
A friend said to me that it's just like being pregnant. Erm... no it isn't. One of the key differences is that when pregnant - you pretty much know when baby is gonna arrive - ok baby could come early-ish or late-ish, but we're talking a few days or a couple of weeks at most. With adoption - we could still be waiting here in 3 years time. Or we could get a phone call next week. So the dark side here is putting your life on hold. That might not sound like much of a problem - but it is. We can't plan holidays or trips away. It's difficult to commit to anything at work that might be impacted. We have no idea if next Christmas we'll have Mozza, or if it'll be another child-free zone. And believe me - that gets very weary! We've been waiting for Mozza on Adoption Street for 2 years now. Before that we were on IVF Road for 4 years, but Mozza didn't come, so we moved. Before IVF Road we were on Trying Naturally Avenue, but that has always been fruitless. We've been waiting for Mozza for 9 years now - that's not like any pregnancy I know!!
Dark side 2) Finances.
Ok, so most people - if not all - who plan for a family struggle with finances. We're fully aware of that. But we've had to do a financial plan. Current income/expenditure. Proposed income/expenditure. Adoption leave income/expenditure. If it doesn't add up - we ain't getting matched. We have to update social services constantly on any changes to our finances, and send them proof of any major purchases. Like, for example, we bought a new bed. We were asked whether or not we needed one, as that money could have gone into the adoption fund. We suggested we might go on holiday for a few days at Christmas - they can't demand we don't, but they did tell us that it wouldn't be looked at favourably. We've been told to keep our spends low and our savings high, and have to prove we are doing this on a monthly basis by sending our bank statements to social services every single month - for the last year, and on a continuing basis. And if we buy anything on credit, you might as well just take us out at dawn and shoot us. Not a major problem, but very very annoying!
Dark side 3) Health and Safety and Home Environment
OK, so the house needs to be ready when you have a baby - right? Right. Most people would want to do this - we have to. And we have to comply with certain standards before we can even be considered for adoption. Most of this is common sense, and there is no problem behind the reasoning of it - but we have been forced to do it within social services timescale, and that's the really testing part! So far, this is what we've had to do:
Completely redecorate the house. We planned to do this anyway, but because we stupidly told social services, we were told we had to finish it before approval panel - so we spent 4 months ripping off wallpaper, plastering, painting, new carpets etc. Smoke alarms in every room.
Fire extinguishers, fire blankets, changed all the window locks, three new first aid kits, locks on all cupboards and doors, cooker guard, 5 baby gates, new shed, new garden fence, completion of dog training, completely replace the bannisters on the stairs, new lights, lock on the cellar, new front gate, new floor. This is all before approval - way, way before our baby is even a twinkle in social services eye. how annoying!
Dark side 4) What to buy
One of the lovely things about knowing you're going to have a baby, is preparing for the baby. Nesting, decorating, buying little baby clothes, stocking up on nappies, getting the nursery ready. Not only is it lovely, but it's necessary - you need to be ready, and you can't go out and buy all this stuff in one go once baby has arrived.
We have to, though.
Until we go to matching panel, there's no way of knowing what to buy. We can't buy clothes - our age range is 0-2 - we could get a 4 month old or a 24 month old. We can't buy nappies for the same reason. We can't buy a pushchair, a highchair, a car seat, a cot or a bed, toys, bibs, sterilisers.... you name it, we can't buy it. And that's very hard and very sad. We want to get ready for Mozza - we want Mozza's room to look like a nursery - but we can't. We can't even decorate really, because Mozza may well come with trauma which could be triggered by colour. Mozza might want bedsheets like the ones he/she had in foster care because they're familiar. The only things we can really buy are babywipes (and hope to hell Mozza's not allergic) and books. Older books, though, just in case, and wait for Mozza to grow into them. All of which means, of course, that once we're matched we have to go and get everything all at once. Everything! And between matching and intros - it could be as short as one day! Financially that's going to be tough, and physically it's going to be tough - but emotionally it's tough now. We WANT to buy things for Mozza - we're desperate to plan for this littly - and we just can't.
Dark side 5) Trauma
Now we're getting properly dark. All adopted children suffer trauma. This is fact. No matter what their history, by the time they reach their forever Mummy and Daddy (us) they will have experienced at least two circumstances of loss - the removal from their birth family, and their removal from their foster carer. That's the best case scenario. They could have so many paniful, hurtful, terrifying memories from their past, that it will take a lifetime to make them feel safe. At best we're going to have to deal with the fact that we're not the birth family and explain why Mozza couldn't stay there. Other issues could include Mozza not being able to make attachments, not developing properly - motor skills being so damaged by never being held or made safe, that Mozza still might not be able to use a cup properly by the time he/she is a teenager. Developmentally, the probability is that Mozza will be behind his/her peers, and is more likely to suffer anxiety, stress and re-attachment disorder. If there is a more dark side to Mozza's past in terms of real abuse or neglect, then those problems could manifest in countless ways - hitting, biting, bullying, not eating, not washing, fear, not bonding, night terrors...the ways in which adopted children cope with their histories is manifold and heart-breaking. And we don't know how it's going to go. We don't know yet what Mozza will have suffered, and we don't know yet how we're going to start mending it. People say to us "Mozza will be safe and loved with you, and that's enough" - but it's not enough, and we have far more uncertainty in front of us than if we could just conceive Mozza ourselves. The challenges are almost unbearable, and the unknown is scarier still.
Dark side 6) Well-Meaning People
This dark side is not intended to offend. I know that everybody who talks to us about the adoption is well-meaning and interested, and for that we love you. But some of the things that some people say can be bloomin hard to deal with
a) You can have one of mine if you want.
Oh thanks. Flippancy is what I need right now
b) People who have their own kids don't have to be vetted like you
No - but if they did, then perhaps there wouldn't be any children up for adoption!
c) Why is it taking so long?
Because social services have to make sure that the people they entrust this child to, aren't going to abuse or damage them further.
d) All those children in care just waiting - and you've still not been picked.
For every white, healthy baby under 2, there are probably about 20 adoptive couples. These children are not languishing in care - they're just going to other families.
e) Can you change it's name?
No - our child has a name.
f) Can you pick the sex?
Yes, if we really wanted to - but why would we? That's the least of our problems
g) I'll have one for you if you want
Erm... thanks, but no thanks
h) I think what you're doing is wonderful
We just want to be parents.
i) Have you thought about IVF?
Oh once or twice - every day for about 4 years
the list does go on, but at the risk of sounding callous towards people who care, I won't keep going...
Dark side 7) Bonding
Will I love this child enough? It's hard enough to love children born to you. It's hard sometimes to cope with the change of lifestyle that this little person imposes without being a bit resentful. When you add into the mix the fact that this person will drop into our lives a stranger - sometimes I'm scared. Will I love this little child enough to make up for the lack of love that's gone before? Can I mend this baby's broken heart, whilst ensuring the health of my own? Am I strong enough - are WE strong enough - to be able to cope with someone else's baby - and when will they become ours? At link stage? At matching panel? The first photo? The first day of intros? The day Mozza comes home? Ever? I have no answers - it's just another conundrum.
My next blog will be about the light side of adoption. Today I just had some issues which needed writing down!
Thursday, 12 November 2009
The story so far...
Coming late to blogging on our journey, but currently sitting in a waiting bubble, so thought it would be a good time to start:
A brief history of us:
I am Bectora and me and my husband, The Lam after years of trying to conceive and 3 years of an ultimately wasted IVF journey, came to adoption in October 2007.
January 2008 saw us on our initial open evening
February 2008 saw our official expression of interest posted to LA
March 2008 saw us getting provisionally accepted with LA
April 2008 was our first visit from social workers. 2 of. They came to see us, chatted about why we felt adoption was for us, and then went away to decide our fate. The next day we received the phone call - we were in! We didn't know it at the time, but apparently more than 80% of prospective adopters are declined at this stage.
June 2008 saw us on adoption prep group - 5 intensive and emotional days with 10 other couples learning about trauma, attachment, grief, bonding, playing - so many exhaustive and emotional things. At prep group stage, around 50% of adopters will pull out of the process, because it is not for them.
July 2008 we were allocated our homestudy social worker - we'll call her Annie.
August 2008 saw the start of our home study - a series of social worker visits to our home from Annie - each lasting between 2 and 5 hours, and covering many topics in great detail. During the home study we talked about all kinds of issues, facts, opinions, beliefs, emotions, histories, theories and, well, just us that all make up our PAR (prospective adopters report)
September 2008 saw us on another prep group session - this one about foetal alcohol syndrome and drug abuse in pregnancy. Many adoptive children are born in this kind of environment.
Between October 2008 and May 2009 - we completed our home study. In addition to the emotive stuff listed above, this also included medicals from our GP (which took months) Local Authority checks, CRB checks, employers reference, 2 personal references and a family reference, family tree, chronology of our lives from birth, eco map, support networks, home environment (health and safety) local environment, schools and services nearby, research into children's centres and local groups, experience and understanding of child care, training on grief and trauma in adopted children, attachment and loss, coming to terms with the loss of our own fertility, alcohol and drug misuse in birth families, behavioural issues specific to adoptive children, dog report, not to mention lots of homework - reading many books, watching DVDs etc. It also comprised 2 "2nd opinion" visits from Annie's line manager who we'll call Babette!
Adoption Panel was the next stage. In order to become a prospective adopter, you need to go before a formal panel and explain exactly why you are good enough to parent a potentially damaged child. We were hoping for adoption approval panel in April 2009, but we were dropped from 4 panels - one on 1st April, one on 23rd April, one on May 16th and one on June 23rd.
Finally we struck gold, and July the 1st 2009 saw us at adoption approval panel
It was terrifying. Nine individuals who had read and studied our PAR and held the fate of our future as a family in their hands. They interviewed us and asked us questions on our support network and on how prepared we are for change in our lifestyles. They then asked us about the tackling of issues of attachment and our attitudes towards the potential birth families. Annie and Babette were amazing, and promoted us brilliantly. We were led into a little ante-room whilst the panel decided our fate.
Less than two minutes later, the Chair of the panel came in to us. The Lam and I were sitting, holding hands and shaking a little. The Chair, smiling broadly, simply said, "it's a confident and unanimous yes"
I cried, the Lam sunk his head into his hands, and we hugged Annie! We went back into the room where the panel were all smiling at us, and they told us we were a really strong couple and had a great application and that was it. We were approved. We were going to be parents.
What a day - we went for a lovely pub lunch and then phoned everyone we knew!
And then went home to prepare for Mozza....
And then... the sound of silence!
For months
We heard nothing until midway through October, when we contacted Annie and she arranged to come and see us.
It turned out that she'd been busy putting our names forward for three different bambinos - but we weren't the preferred couple for any of the children's social workers. Annie said we were strongly considered, but on all three occasions, the social worker went with another couple
So obviously none of those children were Mozza!
Then she told us that there's another one - all we know is that he's a little boy - and we'll know by the end of November!
She's coming to see us on the 30th to tell us one way or the other if his social worker has chosen me and the Lam!
So, we're still waiting for Mozza - but maybe he's getting closer!
A brief history of us:
I am Bectora and me and my husband, The Lam after years of trying to conceive and 3 years of an ultimately wasted IVF journey, came to adoption in October 2007.
January 2008 saw us on our initial open evening
February 2008 saw our official expression of interest posted to LA
March 2008 saw us getting provisionally accepted with LA
April 2008 was our first visit from social workers. 2 of. They came to see us, chatted about why we felt adoption was for us, and then went away to decide our fate. The next day we received the phone call - we were in! We didn't know it at the time, but apparently more than 80% of prospective adopters are declined at this stage.
June 2008 saw us on adoption prep group - 5 intensive and emotional days with 10 other couples learning about trauma, attachment, grief, bonding, playing - so many exhaustive and emotional things. At prep group stage, around 50% of adopters will pull out of the process, because it is not for them.
July 2008 we were allocated our homestudy social worker - we'll call her Annie.
August 2008 saw the start of our home study - a series of social worker visits to our home from Annie - each lasting between 2 and 5 hours, and covering many topics in great detail. During the home study we talked about all kinds of issues, facts, opinions, beliefs, emotions, histories, theories and, well, just us that all make up our PAR (prospective adopters report)
September 2008 saw us on another prep group session - this one about foetal alcohol syndrome and drug abuse in pregnancy. Many adoptive children are born in this kind of environment.
Between October 2008 and May 2009 - we completed our home study. In addition to the emotive stuff listed above, this also included medicals from our GP (which took months) Local Authority checks, CRB checks, employers reference, 2 personal references and a family reference, family tree, chronology of our lives from birth, eco map, support networks, home environment (health and safety) local environment, schools and services nearby, research into children's centres and local groups, experience and understanding of child care, training on grief and trauma in adopted children, attachment and loss, coming to terms with the loss of our own fertility, alcohol and drug misuse in birth families, behavioural issues specific to adoptive children, dog report, not to mention lots of homework - reading many books, watching DVDs etc. It also comprised 2 "2nd opinion" visits from Annie's line manager who we'll call Babette!
Adoption Panel was the next stage. In order to become a prospective adopter, you need to go before a formal panel and explain exactly why you are good enough to parent a potentially damaged child. We were hoping for adoption approval panel in April 2009, but we were dropped from 4 panels - one on 1st April, one on 23rd April, one on May 16th and one on June 23rd.
Finally we struck gold, and July the 1st 2009 saw us at adoption approval panel
It was terrifying. Nine individuals who had read and studied our PAR and held the fate of our future as a family in their hands. They interviewed us and asked us questions on our support network and on how prepared we are for change in our lifestyles. They then asked us about the tackling of issues of attachment and our attitudes towards the potential birth families. Annie and Babette were amazing, and promoted us brilliantly. We were led into a little ante-room whilst the panel decided our fate.
Less than two minutes later, the Chair of the panel came in to us. The Lam and I were sitting, holding hands and shaking a little. The Chair, smiling broadly, simply said, "it's a confident and unanimous yes"
I cried, the Lam sunk his head into his hands, and we hugged Annie! We went back into the room where the panel were all smiling at us, and they told us we were a really strong couple and had a great application and that was it. We were approved. We were going to be parents.
What a day - we went for a lovely pub lunch and then phoned everyone we knew!
And then went home to prepare for Mozza....
And then... the sound of silence!
For months
We heard nothing until midway through October, when we contacted Annie and she arranged to come and see us.
It turned out that she'd been busy putting our names forward for three different bambinos - but we weren't the preferred couple for any of the children's social workers. Annie said we were strongly considered, but on all three occasions, the social worker went with another couple
So obviously none of those children were Mozza!
Then she told us that there's another one - all we know is that he's a little boy - and we'll know by the end of November!
She's coming to see us on the 30th to tell us one way or the other if his social worker has chosen me and the Lam!
So, we're still waiting for Mozza - but maybe he's getting closer!
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