“When are you doing it again?”
A question asked of us over and over again. Put so flippantly like when were we next going on holiday. If only that simple.
Growing a family through adoption is different. Often, with a birth child it’s a given they’ll be another. Maybe another. Of course, you never know what goes on behind closed doors – I know this first hand. We felt surrounded by siblings coming along in neatly placed 2 year gaps. A hard pill to swallow.
It can’t go unnoticed that often the timing of when to adopt again is taken out of peoples hands. Phone calls coming through that birth mother was pregnant again. At assessments we talked a lot about this scenario. But based on our daughter’s story, this wasn’t something we were expecting. So whenever we wanted to, we would need to take the reins.
I guess we were on a similar path. In our own way. Families often have different dimensions. Are blended. Siblings with different fathers. Step brothers and sisters from second parent relationships. But with adoption there are many considerations when thinking about expanding your family.
After our long road to parenthood, we could be forgiven for taking the mindset we were so unbelievably fortunate to have our precious girl, we should be content. Shouldn’t jeopardise this. Rock the blissful boat of happiness we found ourselves on.
Our families had this general view. Couldn’t quite see the future as we hoped it to be. Maybe they were trying to protect us. Knowing what could potentially lie ahead. But support networks the second time around are even more vital. Their buy in was crucial.
We always wanted a houseful of children. If our journey had been different, I may have looked at those two blue lines perhaps 3, maybe 4 times. Of course, this was not meant to be, but it didn’t cease the desire though. Far from it.
When our daughter was three, we decided the time was right. Whatever that really means. For us our first steps was different. No checking the calendar. No romantic early nights in. No “it’s positive” shout out through the bathroom door. Just picking up the phone and making a call.
We went back to our original local authority adoption agency. It was now early 2016. As with the first time round we were greeted with a welcome voice and a commitment to get a social worker to get in touch. Three months later – no call. Not the best start. But the pressure was off. We took a far more relaxed approach. We were deep in being parents to a very cute but busy toddler. Weeks just seemed to whizz by without notice.
I finally chased the call and after many apologies about being lost in the system, a meeting with a social worker was arranged. So it began. A second adopter training day shortly after and off we went.
In all honesty we didn’t get a huge amount out of this. Was more of a refresher on adoption rather than focusing on the key things we felt were important to explore.
These were some of the things on my list:
- How involved would our daughter need to be – what “assessments” would she have
- What guidance and support was available for building their sibling relationship
- How do we tackle different histories/life stories
- How to manage varying letterbox contact arrangements
- How to practically manage introductions with a 4 year old
- How to prepare our daughter to potentially witness the grief and loss
- What happens if we cannot give our new child the dedicated commitment they need while we bond and settle
….and my list went on.
To be fair we were giving the opportunity to raise these through assessments. But we didn’t feel they were key areas. At the forefront. Some left unanswered. Maybe they can’t be. Until you’re in it. Living it.
Things have probably developed now, but we found there was a lot of duplication of the basics we had gone through the first time round. We seemed to again write reams of words for homework about the same things. Were quite surprised at the length of time the assessments took. Maybe it was foolish to think there was some kind of “fast track” second time around. All social worker requirements to evidence competence and capability are just as highly important. Quite right. Absolutely crucial. We had to go with what they need. Not us. That’s the thing about adoption. It rightly should be all about the children and their needs.
One of the hardest things to manage was our daughters’ expectations. The social workers had to meet with her. Chat about the prospect of a brother or sister. She totally only wanted a sister and made this quite clear!
We had to keep a lot from her too and this was hard. Felt a bit deceitful at times. What if we got her hopes up to being a big sister, but it took 2 years to get matched. Or didn’t happen at all. Generally, if you’re trying to get pregnant you don’t tell your child until the first scan is under the belt. The timeline is utterly open ended with adoption. This is very tricky.
You will also be governed by the age of your child. And their understanding of adoption. Do they really know what this means. What it entails. We were always open and honest as best we could be. But at assessment stage she was only 3 and this was a lot for her to take on board. Actually, it really helped with her own life story work. Her history. It generated a whole host of questions. We knew the opportunity for a birth sibling was slim. But our daughter just kept saying her birth parents were going to “give” us another baby – so confusing.
Thankfully there is now a wealth of resource material to help your little ones when adopting a second time. I can’t remember if these weren’t available or if we weren’t told about them. Either way we ended up doing little preparation until we were matched and then it all seemed quite intense.
I don’t know if there is another way though. An open timeline with the prospect of no placement would have been impossible to explain and manage. Keeping things back was the only real way and most assessments were done while she was at nursery for this very reason.
What we did do was involve her heavily in all the transition prep. She picked teddies and toys. Spent hours doing arts and crafts. Put together photos of us. Made video messages. She loved this. It helped her grasp there wasn’t going to be a tiny baby who grew in my tummy. But a child who was staying safely with a foster carer just like she had. This was a really positive part of the process. We had to keep everything crossed matching panel and introductions went smoothly. Thankfully it did.
Speaking of introductions, in practical terms this was an absolute minefield! Keeping to her routine while trying to fit in to our new child’s routine was utterly exhausting and so hard logistically. Apart from anything else we had to spend large chunks of time away from her, while we stepped into introduction mode. None of us were comfortable with this. It was really quite upsetting.
There were all the early starts for when he woke. Late nights to settle off to sleep. Time to bond and care for him. While still meeting all her needs. Now I know this applies to all second time around parents. But depending on the schedule, the age and abilities of the child, you could be looking at two weeks plus of introductions. An awful lot of juggling. But we were as ready as we could be. From the time we met with a social worker to this point was just over 12 months. About the same as the first time. We thankfully caught the ratio cycle of adopters to children at the right time. We hear now of endless waits. Let downs. For so many.
There was a marked difference in my preparation for this big day. Especially emotionally. – I was quite calm! Yes, the excitement – anticipation – was there. But the pressure wasn’t. I was an established mum. Confident in my parenting. Ability and knowledge levels far higher. Gone were the uncertainties about how to hold a baby. The nervousness of being unable to comfort their distress. We’d already done all of that. And if I say so myself, we’d done a pretty good job.
My biggest worry was my daughter. How she would cope with the overwhelming situation we were placing her in. Being away from us which was a rarity. Couple this with all the other natural second child concerns. Was there enough love to share. Would she resent us. What if they didn’t connect. We also had the extras that come with adoption. What if he didn’t settle with the separation and screamed all night. Upset her. Who would I go to first? As mum to both. This was an 8 month old baby who already had a routine about to be broken. Who was leaving the comfort of his safe place to the arms of strangers. However well transitions were planned. This was a hugely traumatic experience. He wasn’t a newborn that slept all day. He would be aware of his surroundings. Needed immediately entertaining. Consoling. And nobody but us could do this. They had equally important but different needs. We were facing huge unknowns.
Our daughter met her new brother on day 2 of introductions. Despite all my concerns, it was pretty magical. Our son was napping at his foster carers and she waited patiently to wake him. I brought him downstairs – carrying my son in my arms as my daughter run up and kissed him on the head. Just beautiful.
We bought her some gifts from him. Wrapped up ready at the foster carers – her favourite tv characters, a Teddy and some arty making kits she could do while we bonded with him. This worked well and she was thrilled. Kept thanking him with a kiss on the top of his head. Cue mums happy tears. She had the chance to take photos – especially selfies – which generated lots of giggles. We got them matching pjs “best big sister” “best little brother”. Some co-ordinating T-shirts. Things to link them together as brother and sister. Things for both of them so the focus wasn’t just on him.
The next week was a bit of a blur. It was exhausting. I did most of the carers role while my husband and the grandparents did the routine for our daughter. I cannot stress the heightened need for robust support networks. More so the second time around. Having friends to call on if we were running late for nursery pickups was invaluable. Grandparents who could stay over when we did the early mornings/late nights so we could keep our daughters routine. People who had an understanding that we needed to be the parents. Even if they were in the house for visits, they needed to keep a distance from our son. And not be offended. We got through it. The joy outweighed anything else though. And we made it home a family of four. Finally.
The first few years were fairly smooth. Family days out. Memory making. Togetherness. More than we could have hoped for. I always say they may not be birth siblings, but they are brother and sister in every way. They may have different skin colouring. Facial characteristics. But they have the same mannerisms. Accents. Expressions. Sayings. Silly sense of humour! The important parts.
While this is true, I can’t deny more recent times have had more downs than ups. Challenges with my sons ever apparent additional needs have taken their toll. Have cast a shadow over our once blissful family make up.
They have different histories and heritages. Different contact. Different memory boxes. One has gifts from birth mum. One has absolutely nothing. One knows extended birth family details. One probably never will.
How we deal with this – our response – this is part of adoption. We are honest to say to them it varies for every adopted child. Each story is unique. Some will get updates, have letters. Some not. Some will know details about their start in life. Some won’t. Some may get the chance to meet birth siblings. Some won’t. Our commitment to them remains the same and equal though. That they can ask us anything they want, at any time. Some answers we will have. Some we will never know. But we will be their constant
It’s not easy. Can create upset. But I vow never to give false promises or hope. The complex maze of adoption will always be part of our lives. It is an ever-moving situation. But there are moments of laughter and sheer joy. They take my breath away. I hold these and keep them close to my heart. Time is said to be a healer. We will work through it. In my head I know this. My heart on occasion needs a little more persuasion. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t change a thing. Adopting for a second time was what we always wanted to do. And we are a family. In progress. But a beautiful, wonderful family.
Rosemary Lucas 