A lovely selection of reviews has been put together by Kerrie from @kezzabods (Instagram) who is a real advocate of reading to children. Here are some of her favourites that can help support adopted children with understanding their life story:
Love makes your baby’s brain bigger, and reading to your adopted child can help level the playing field of their early childhood experiences. It will not only support their literacy and wider educational skills, but it will help them to develop closer attachments to you. Vital in those early days of placement, and continues to be important throughout your parenting journey.
Building a collection of books and stories is a great way for prospective adopters to prepare for a placement and for parents to build their attachment to their child. It can be difficult to know where to start, especially when you consider that the best way of talking honestly and openly to your children about adoption is through storytelling.
Thankfully, my love of children’s literature means that I have done the hard work so that you don’t have to! The market for children’s books about adoption is growing, but below you’ll find a mix of some older classics and newer releases that can help your child to understand their journey.
This is a truly beautiful story with lovely classic illustrations to explain in very simple terms the importance of a child’s life story. Elfa the elephant carries around a very heavy box with all of her memories in it. We know that sometimes our adopted children struggle with traumatic memories, and that even those that they cannot ‘remember’ are still there on a subconscious level. Elfa helps readers to understand how when we share our memories and experiences rather than keeping them locked away, the load becomes lighter. Many of our children will already have a memory box from their pre-adoption life, and this book can be a really great way to start exploring the contents – why that teddybear is so important, how little they were when they fit in those special pyjamas and how they needed protecting.
This is the only book so precious to me that it isn’t kept on my son’s shelf – but that may also be because it’s a really delicate paperback version! My little brother and his wife gave my son this book when he first came home, and I fell in love with it from the start. This tells an adoption story from the perspective of the parents going through the adoption process. Whilst I loved reading this to my son from a very young age, it definitely holds more meaning now that he is old enough to comprehend his own story, as it ‘levels up’ his understanding of my journey to him rather than just his journey to me.
Todd Parr always pops up on these lists, usually with ‘We Belong Together’, but I’m going with ‘The Family Book’ for a good reason. I don’t want my son to feel that adoption is anything other than completely normal – and the way Parr so breezily mentions that “some families adopt children” as just one of many ways that makes a family is important to me. It also helped to explain to my son the concept of stepfamilies and why his older brother has a family that he doesn’t share with my son, and also why me and his dad no longer live together. Again, the illustrations in this book are perfect for little readers and help make the book even more enjoyable.
A fantastic story of a single adoptive parent explaining her journey to adoption to her child, and how they came to be a family. I’ll stop harping on about the illustrations at some point, but this is not that point, because once again this book has beautifully delicate illustration that conjure up a sense of nostalgia for adult readers and comfort and love for younger ones.
‘A Mother for Choco’ holds a very special place in my heart, because I was not my son’s first ‘adoptive mother’. He was matched to another family, and it fell through at the very late stages of introductions, and so he had already started to bond with his ‘new parents’. This book explains why some parents aren’t right for some children, as Choco sets out to find his mum and encounters a whole host of potential mothers who tell him they are very sorry but no, they’re not his mum.
Last but by no means least comes my favourite children’s book about adoption, and the reason I’m such a big fan of Rosemary’s. Using language that children understand to explain how they came to be a family, and introducing the concept of the social worker’s role in this – my son understood from a very early age that he was adopted and that he had a birth mother, and I later introduced the concept of Foster Carers to him and explained their role in his life story, but social workers tend to get forgotten in the wider picture. This book is a fantastic reminder that there is a whole community of individuals who were looking out for your child to ensure they had the best life possible, and if that doesn’t warm your heart then I’m not sure what will!
This list is by no means exhaustive, and there are so many wonderful stories out there for our children to help them to understand their own story. I’d love to hear your favourites – drop me a message on Instagram (@kezzabods) to let me know!
This is such a thoughtful selection and I really love the personal touch to the reviews – thank you so much Kerrie. Finding a book your little one can connect to is so important. It may become part of their every day life, or sit patiently on a book shelf until they are ready to learn more. Either way, one thing is absolutely clear – you cannot beat the power of storytelling.
** please note Amazon links have been added but I have no endorsements or affiliations with them and wherever possible…support small local businesses!
There are some things I read that stop me in my tracks. Stark reminders of the complexities of adoption.
I recently spotted a post on Instagram by a lady I really admire. Just a year after adopting her daughter, she welcomed her twin full birth siblings. She was sharing her experience of final contact with birth parents. And this really struck a chord with me.
This possibility was not on the table for us. Not something birth parents wanted. Due to location proximities, even if they had, it was deemed too risky.
The truth is, I don’t know how we would have dealt with it. Would we have even done it? Hand on heart I can’t say we would have. Not fully appreciative at that time of its significance.
Things have changed since we entered the adoption process nine years ago. There is now increased emphasis on keeping more open channels of communication with birth families. Final contact appears to be more frequent. Of course, I see this. Understand the benefits. But I can’t help but wonder what experience this creates for the children. Does it add confusion? Or comfort? Sadly, I’ll never know first-hand.
To add some perspective, I am so grateful to Kirsty from @mamma_a_and_her_girls_ for sharing her story. Here is her honest account of how she approached it:
“When we were asked if we would meet birth parents again, we had to think about it a lot. I say meeting them again, as we had already met them a little over a year ago during introductions with our older daughter who is the twin’s full sibling.
Our adoption agency encourages adopters to meet birth parents as it can be beneficial to the children when they grow up. Hearing that you met can help them with their identity. Now I’m not going to lie, when I first started our adoption journey my thoughts towards birth parents in general were very negative. Why should I meet them? They don’t deserve my time; they had their chance. But the truth is, they all have a different story. My girl’s birth mother (BM) is far from perfect, but she’s always wanted the girls to be well looked after and importantly, kept together.
I won’t talk much about birth father (BF) as that’s a very different story. The first time we met was negative. So, this time although we did agree to see him, it was very short and heavily supported by both agencies involved.
Unfortunately, BM had stopped engaging in any contact with the twins after they were 3 days old. She said it was just too hard. But what she had agreed to, is this final goodbye contact. It was not straightforward though. Leading up to it, she wasn’t responding. Not having contact with any social workers.
I was really worried that she wouldn’t attend. Not for me, but for the girls. I didn’t want them in later years to question why she didn’t come and say goodbye to them but did for their sister Sass.
After speaking with my husband and our social worker, I asked the twins social worker if it would help me writing BM a letter. She thought it was a great idea. So, I wrote just a short letter asking her how she was, but also saying I was hoping to be able to bring the girls to say goodbye. Finally, she agreed.
The morning of final contact came around. The night before me and Sass sat making pictures to give her. She is still so young with so much understanding still to grow. But we were as ready as we could be. Although I was a bit apprehensive, I knew it was the right thing do.
We had been in the car about 30 minutes when the phone rang – she was cancelling. I was gutted for the kids. As we were having final goodbyes with BF the same day, we still carried on though and headed to the meeting.
Things got more uncertain as the day went on. She later rang to say she had changed her mind and that she would now come. We waited and waited but still no luck. She rang again, this time to say there were no trains available.
Of course, naturally there was more to it than this. The social worker could tell she was anxious and had over thought the situation. To help, I told the social worker to ask BM if she wanted to speak to me on the phone first. She did. She just needed a little support. Reassurance. I told her I would either stay in the room when she said goodbye, or I would leave. Whichever was best for her. Either way I would be what she needed me to be.
Her saying goodbye to the girls was a huge deal. It was for me too. But I had so many people supporting me through that day – my husband, my family, my friends, professionals, not to mention the whole online adoption community. So, if she just needed some support, then I could do that. That’s the least I could do.
She finally arrived. Three hours later than originally planned. But she was there. I took the twins into the room and popped them down, thinking she would go straight to them. Instead, she came to me. Gave me a big hug and told me I was “doing a grand job”. I can’t even explain how that made me feel. She asked about all three girls. About me and my husband. Showed a genuine interest.
She asked if I would stay with her. So that’s exactly what I did. There were two social workers there as well to offer additional support. But I knew it was me she wanted. Needed. We chatted about the girls. I then said I was going to leave her to have some time alone with them. I felt this was important for her. Although she was the one who asked me to stay, I did feel a little uncomfortable and like I was sitting on top of her. I knew she needed some space and privacy. To say her final goodbye without everyone peering on.
When I came back in, I told her I would bring Sass in for 10/15 minutes. She had been asking about Sass a lot and was really excited to see her. I know it isn’t normally something that happens – seeing birth parents after adoption. But in that moment, it felt right. For then. For the future. Everyone agreed. Sass is only two years old so didn’t really understand what was happening, but I know she will when we look back in years to come. I hope she understands the significance and that it helps her to piece together her story.
When we went back in, Sass walked up to BM and gave her the pictures we made the night before. BM asked her for a hug which Sass did. It was lovely to see. She only used her first name and never called herself mum. It was really nice of her to think of that. Not to confuse Sass. I have so much respect for her for that.
The first time we met birth parents I always regretted not getting a picture taken with them. So, this time I got a picture of Mammy, Birth Mum and our 3 girls. I think this is amazing for the girls to have. I won’t ever share that picture. It’s very personal and just for them. I’ve framed it and popped it in their room. Where it will forever sit proudly.
Time was coming to an end and I could sense BM knew this too. She started saying goodbye to the girls. I had to look away. Hearing a mother say goodbye to her children was heart wrenching.
She then came and gave me the biggest hardest cuddle I’ve ever had. She was squeezing me asking me to keep her girls safe. She was literally breaking her heart on my shoulder. I couldn’t help it; my heart was breaking too. We cried together. A moment I’ll never forget.
I pulled her away so I could look at her face and promised her she never needed to worry about the girls. That I will always look after them. She hugged me again and it was clear it was all too much for her. So she left. One of the social workers took her home and supported her. I must say the social workers were amazing. As BM hugged me and we cried saying goodbye, they distracted Sass so she didn’t witness anything. This was very important. To ensure she didn’t pick up on the emotions or upset.
I feel a huge connection to BM. It actually shocks me how much I do. Without giving too much detail BM didn’t look after any of the children when she was pregnant. I should feel negatively towards her for this. If I’m honest, there is a part of me that does. But the bigger part of me loves her in some crazy way.
The girl has no one. Sadly, the reality is she stood no chance. My instinct is that I want to help her. It even crossed my mind about adopting her. That’s how strongly I feel. She will always be a huge part of my children’s life. Without her they wouldn’t be here. And we wouldn’t be a family.
It took a couple of days to recover from that final meet, but I’m so pleased I did it. I say I did it for the girls and I absolutely did, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some part of it that was for me too. It gave me closure. It gave me a story to tell my girls once old enough. It was beautifully heart-breaking. If that sentence even makes sense. I’m guessing to the adoption community it will. Adoption is many things, but I think a lot of it can be summed up with this thought – it really is beautifully heart-breaking.”
I totally get this parting sentiment from Kirsty. What an incredible thing she and her husband did for her girls.
I love how connected she feels to BM. How she did all she could for the meeting to take place. Knowing it was the best thing for her girls. Another chapter to add to their life story book. One to hold on to. And cherish.
What strikes me about his story is that despite everything. Despite what she had been through. BM was thoughtful and appreciative. There are no words to describe how incredibly hard this meeting would have been for her. I hope it gave her the comfort and assurance she needed. Looking the women who her girls call mammy in the eye. Seeing how loved and precious they are to her. This is so powerful.
Thank you Kirsty, for being open about something so personal. Her hope – as is mine – is simple. To raise awareness of goodbye contact. That if the professionals deem it right, that adopters really consider it. Don’t just dismiss it. Think of the longer-term benefits. There is no taking it lightly though – it will be incredibly emotional and sometimes not as positive as this story. But it could just be the missing part of the jigsaw.
My daughter asks me all the time when she can meet her birth mother. How meaningful it would be if I could say to her…“I met her once…”
If you have any questions, Kirsty is kindly happy to answer anything she can. You can follow her and send her a message through her Instagram account @mamma_a_and_her_girls_
There are few stories as powerful as this one. I have been privileged that Kerrie has allowed me through the wonder of blogs, to join her on the journey she has taken to meeting the women that made her a mum.
If you haven’t already read it, I suggest before you go any further that you take a look at her first guest blog – “Face to Face Contact with Birth Mother”. This is the start of the amazing and welcoming road she has taken to building a relationship with her son’s birth mother.
Since then, their connection has strengthened. Their bond cemented. So, I guess it was only a matter of time before Kerrie felt it was right for her son J to meet her too.
Now, this is not something to be entered into lightly. Involvement and initial mediation from social workers is essential. Receiving appropriate support is vital. Every situation is different and for some this is not possible or practical. Or safe. It needs careful consideration of both short and long-term impacts. The positives, and any potential negatives. This is exactly what Kerrie did, and this is what happened:
“I laid the picnic blanket onto the cold pebbles of the south-east coast and watched as my son’s life was about to change, once again, forever.
For a not-quite-four year old, J had been through more in his life than most could ever imagine. Born by caesarean section at 34 weeks, he was immediately placed in the care of a foster family. Before he was a year, he had what social services would call “Goodbye Contact” with his birth mum (renamed by her in this instance as “TTFN Contact”). He was introduced to the family he was placed for adoption with. At the very last minute, they had cold feet and changed their mind. Another chapter to his story. A few weeks after his first birthday, my husband and I were formally matched with the little boy who we had been fighting for months to be our baby. Introductions soon began and then we brought him home for good.
Not quite happily ever after. What followed was a rocky settling in period, an extended period of calm before the storm. Then the huge upheaval that COVID19 brought to families across the world. Add to that the separation of his parents this summer, and you might wonder what on earth possessed us to contact his birth mother just days after we agreed to split and extend an invitation for direct contact with our son.
The answer is simple – we had a good feeling. We met Charlotte at the start of J’s placement with us before he was legally adopted. We clicked instantly. The young woman we saw before us was intelligent, thoughtful, caring, and respectful. We walked away from the meeting knowing that when our son was able to make the decision for himself, he would undoubtedly want to know her.
All the preparation as prospective adopters told us how difficult it can be for adopted children, particularly teenagers, with access to social media. Despite it being a decade or so away, the thought of him reaching out to her in such a way had potential for disaster written all over it. You see, teenagers are not known for their control over their emotions.
Direct contact was not something we discussed for quite some time though. I met Charlotte again earlier this year (facilitated by Barnado’s), to discuss a project I was working on. It came to light that Charlotte was aware of what this was all about. Essentially though, it gave away details of our hometown. The meeting was to provide assurance that this new information would not be misused in anyway. For some, this would cause great distress, but in reality for me, it was just an opportunity to see a person I cared an awful lot about. And who I missed.
Before this meeting, I raised the idea of direct contact with my husband, who seemed as keen as I was. We discussed this with the social worker at Barnados, who fully supported our decision, but asked that we not raise it with Charlotte until they were able to determine whether it was something she would be receptive to.
Like most things, Covid changed everything. It put our plans for potential direct contact on hold, and threw up issues with letterbox contact. When my husband and I split up, I realised that Charlotte was one of the first people I needed to tell. I mulled over the decision for days, before finally reaching out via social media to apologise for letterbox being late and explain that my husband and I were no longer together. As expected, Charlotte took some time to respond, but when she did all my emotions came pouring out. I was reminded that she was a person I had always felt connected to, and I believed she brought a lot of value to my life. The realisation hit me – it did not seem fair to deprive our son of this same value.
A few weeks later, in July, my husband, his older son and I video called Charlotte. This was her first interaction with my stepson, and they hit it off instantly. I felt so proud that she was able to see what a wonderful older brother our son had. We agreed on a date at the end of August to meet as a family – us four, Charlotte, and her best friend. Until then we did weekly video calls between J and Charlotte so that he became more familiar with her. We had spoken to J about his adoption and Charlotte since he first came home to us, so none of this was news to him. In fact, we spoke so openly about Charlotte that her name was thrown around several times a day by us all. Her existence in our lives was already so prolific that it made sense to bring her to life for our son.
As I watched the boys play by the sea, I anxiously checked my phone – she was on her way and would be with us soon. Emotions came like the waves; I was scared, of course, but not for J. I knew that this is what was best for him – there was no chance we would be doing it if we had any doubts.
Despite feeling secure in my role as his mum, I feared how I would feel seeing him with his birth mother. Was worried about how it might affect both him and her. But I was excited to see her again and felt lucky that I was about to witness something beautiful unfolding. For each emotion that came to me, a wave of calm melted it away. This was right.”
And now, it is a huge honour that I can say…here is Charlotte’s story:
“I knew the judge was going to side with the adoption. I didn’t agree; however, for me it was not about admitting defeat, it was now about acceptance and doing what was right for the 6lb 7oz baby boy I gave birth to only 9 and a half months previous. My wishes were now of little importance, but I made it known that I would like to, if allowed, meet the adopters. Not to show any negativity, but instead, I wanted to thank them.
After being told that they wanted to meet me, I begun “planning” so many different conversations in my head. Thoughts came and went; did they hate me or held a judgement on what they had been told about me? Were they angry, or were they curious?
Then the morning came when we would meet. There was a lot to take in especially as I had only been told their name the week before.
From that first moment, it felt right. I distinctly remember saying “thank you for being his mum and dad, thank you for looking after “our” son. J’s parents sat in front of me, we smiled, hugged, and cried. I knew they loved him, and there was no resentment or judgement. These were two people who from that moment, felt and became family to me. I was grateful that they had given me a recent photograph of him. I had tried to give them what I could, photos of my time with J, a family tree, a set of books I had brought for J when I was pregnant. There was a gift given, but it wasn’t material, or even spoken words. It was the gift of a bond. A connection.
Letterbox contact followed at the end of the summer when I received my first one. I sat with a support worker from Barnardo’s, I was expecting just a letter and maybe a couple of photos, but as I read through the letter, and glanced at hundreds of photos that I had been so kindly sent. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness. The format in which his mum compiled the letterbox allowed me to see and picture what he’d been doing throughout the year. The photos came with what the activity was and with whom. I know his mum had shown concern that it may be difficult for me, but despite the sadness, it was proof of everything I wanted for him.
When the contact agreement started, I was told by other birthparents and support workers, that I was lucky I had one letterbox a year, as some don’t get any. As much as I trusted, and cherished, his parents that they would tell him about me, show him the letters and photo, there was still that horrid thought of: would they really tell him about me, would he want to know me, and would I ever see him again, that made a cave in the back of my mind.
In February 2020, I had the delight of meeting his mum again. It came about after I was made aware, by pure coincident of a wonderful project she was working on. I mulled over whether or not to make it known that I knew. I did.
Again, she wanted to meet with me. Both fear, and gladness came from the though of meeting her again. Right up until I walked in the room. Thoughts of losing what contact I was allowed and if she would fear me crept into my mind. But I was over thinking. A rush of sheer happiness came at seeing her again. It was like meeting your best friend after years of being apart. After what was an amazing opportunity to catch up, I had hoped that we would soon meet again, and had expressed to the Barnardo’s worker that, if agreed, meeting with K and M could be a yearly thing. Little did I expect what was to come next.
Covid hit. I started shielding and then needed emergency spina surgery in June. All that kept crossing my mind was “are they all safe?”, “are they keeping well?”.
A little red dot appeared in my messenger on the 15th July “Hi Charlotte, it’s K….” I cried. I cried a lot that night to a friend. All I saw was the banner of the message – I was too scared to read on. What if this was her telling me something had happened? What if this was them telling me they are not sending a letterbox anymore? Was it sent in error? Was this the moment I was hoping for?
As a woman I knew how family’s mums/dads/brother/sisters of a child who had gone through foster care and then adoption might be viewed – sometimes seen as a bad person. Negatively stereotyped and shunned. As a birth mum, I truly believed the day I last had my contact (our TTFN) was the day I would last hold, kiss, cuddle and look into the eyes of my son. I trusted K and M, and I had then hoped that one day J and I would meet. I rested with the fact that wasn’t going to happen until he could make that choice himself. But that thought never goes from the back of that cave.
This “Hi Charlotte it’s K…” was the moment I held on to. What came next, is more than I can ever have expected. The conversation with K carried on via social media, videos and images were shared, as well as a video chat with K and M, and J’s older brother. We agreed a date in August for myself to meet them as a family. Video chats started as did the sharing of videos, photos and events. And then, it happened -I had a video call with J.
I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. The call was just so fluid and normal. It was as if it was an everyday thing. I knew they were open with J about myself, foster carers and the adoption, and I never once doubted that. But seeing his face (before the pizza filter came on), hearing him say my name, and then acting like any other 3-year-old. It was an incredible feeling. It was the cement that filled the cave in my head. I had a video chat with his dad and older brother a few weeks prior, and it was wonderful to see just how amazing they all are. I am so glad he has an older brother to grow up with.
I marked the days down on the calendar, there was no turning back. With a friend, I was about to meet J for the first time since I last saw him. I had kept K updated, and soon enough we pulled into the car park. Arms stretched out, the tears welling up, K came to meet us as we moved along to where they had set-up the picnic. It felt as if my heart was going to leap out when I first put my eyes to him. A whole rush of emotions came over me, much like how the sea had been crashing the pebbles the night before. I could not say much at first. I was just in awe of the family I saw before me. I tried to take in all the details – his eyes, his height, everything. I stopped and just took in the moment of us all sat, chatting, and sharing what was a beautiful and treasured moment of time. It felt natural, it felt normal, it felt that this was the start of a beautiful journey where two families were brought together by one special little boy.
I for one, cannot wait to see how the next chapter unfolds.”
I am blown away by this blog. It’s wonderful to hear how open Kerrie (Instagram account @kezzabods) has been about her gorgeous boys’ journey. But hearing directly from Charlotte is just so special. So powerful.
She sounds like a wonderful person. Her acceptance of the situation. Her longing to know that the boy she gave birth to is loved. Happy. Safe. I love how she constantly refers to J’s parents as his mum and dad. I don’t know why this gets to me the most – of course they are! But there is something quite poignant about how natural she finds this.
I can’t help but think of my own situation. I’m sure you are doing the same right now. Given the opportunity – would you do the same? Take these positive steps to direct contact. Encourage your child to meet face to face with their birth mother. I’d like to think I would, but the truth is I don’t know if I’d embrace it in quite the way Kerrie has.
This really is a tale of destiny. A sliding doors moment. Two women on different paths but who have been brought together by the love of one child. A child that will grow up knowing exactly who he is. Where his life began. How and why it took the turns it did. Above anything else, this is a boy who will know just how loved he is. By everyone.
Thank you both from the bottom of my heart for trusting me to share your precious story.
I wonder what it is like for a friend supporting someone they love through an adoption journey. Especially if they become pregnant themselves. How must it feel to share with a friend who has just had another failed IVF, that you are pregnant?
It was always hard to hear someone else’s happy news. I really was genuinely pleased for them. But it was excruciating. I can’t lie about that. A sense of panic would come over me. I’d dig deep to find the false fixed smile I’d perfected over the years. I couldn’t bear the thought they might sense my…well, what was it…jealousy perhaps.
My best friend told me she was pregnant just as I started taking Clomid. I knew how hard it was for her. But at that time, I was bursting with hope. Thoughts of how amazing it would be when I would soon be pregnant too, quickly followed. How wrong this turned out to be.
Going through fertility treatments and losses is hard on so many people. Not just us. Sending a message to close friends telling them of another sad twist to our journey was incredibly hard. But it must have been incredibly hard to receive too. I don’t think I’ve really thought about it like that before.
I’m delighted to be able to share a story of a friend who gave the kind of support everyone needs. Here, *Felicity talks about how it felt to support a friend going through the adoption process, and how special it was to be part of a much longed for celebration hearing…
“Through the tears, the lows, the deep deep pain, the dreadful guilt of becoming pregnant when that was all my best friend wanted in the whole entire world, there was finally a ray of hope. Absolute joy. My heart burst with pride when I heard the wonderful news she finally had her wish. Her path had been written as a parent – albeit slightly differently to what she had set out to achieve. But it was equally, if not even more, amazing – becoming a mummy at long last!
I wanted to make sure I held her hand through what seemed like an emotional roller-coaster of questioning and panels. Even though I could never truly understand the adoption journey, I could always be there to listen as best I could. Do whatever I could. Whenever she needed me. It seemed almost intrusive (even the dog was interviewed!), but the importance of all this was apparent. I watched on with amazement and intrigue as the process finally cemented her family in a very special way.
When I found out she and her husband had been matched with a baby, I was literally in tears . Over the moon. I was full of questions – when can you meet them, what do they look like, how old are they? I wanted to know everything and being a new mum myself it was extra special as it meant that our children would be the same age. Maternity leave, birthday parties, days out together. Watching them grow up was everything I could have wished for, and more.
Moving through the process the day finally came when their baby came home. There was so much joy, love, and happiness for their new family. It was a very special time to be a part of. I couldn’t wait to meet them and be involved in exciting new beginnings.
After a few months we were all invited to their celebration hearing. This was new to me, and if I’m honest, I didn’t really have a clue what it was all about. I understood that close friends and family we would all gather in a court and ultimately make everything ‘official’. In our eyes though it was as if the baby had always been part of our lives, and this seemed just a formality.
The day came and we met at the court and went inside. I imagined a quiet formal setting but as I watched, I witnessed something extremely precious. There was a vibrancy of emotions and the bond and love that had been established with this 10month old bundle of joy was instantly apparent. Not only for my best friend and her husband but her parents, siblings, and every single person in that room. We all felt the emotions. I honestly felt so proud and honoured to share that moment of solidarity with her, something my family are forever grateful to be a part of. It was a true celebration of their journey to becoming a family unit.What a proud moment. What an absolute honour.
We rounded off the day at a local pub, as always filled with laughter and fun. The journey has massively taught me that we all have different paths in life and we must all celebrate the special moments. Take in everyone’s happiness. Through the trials and tribulations there is great joy to be had and I am grateful to be able to be part of a very special journey that we will always be able to talk about fondly with our children as they grow up together.
What a heart-warming tale. It genuinely brought tears to my eyes. This really is what true friendship is all about.
It was clearly very special for Felicity to be part of the celebration hearing. The emotions and poignancy of the day. Recognition of a difficult journey. But one with a very happy ending.
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect with ours either. Of course, the adoption order had already been granted and we were legally a family. So this really was a time to celebrate as a family.
I will always remember looking around me as we waited to be called in. We were surrounded by people attending hearings for non-payment of car parking tickets or trying to avoid eviction. And there we were, all dressed up. Grinning from ear to ear. Bursting with pride. A forever family full of love. It was a bit surreal. And the setting felt a little bit misplaced if I’m honest.
But it was a really lovely day – brief, but lovely. Very special. Above anything else it’s a great addition to a life story book. The Judge was all kitted out and was very welcoming to the group of proud people clicking away. The room was full of giggles as our beautiful children stole the show with their cuteness. I was bursting with pride.
I count myself very lucky that special friends stood shoulder to shoulder with me. Well, when I would let them. I often couldn’t face anybody. I know I often shut them out. But they were always there for me. I find it hard to hear that sometimes friendships break down during difficult times like this. Well, let me tell you…these are not true friendships! Real friends stick together whatever. Through the tears and tantrums. Through the heartache and the joy.
I think you’ll agree this is exactly what Felicity did. She is a very special friend indeed. A forever friend.
This is probably one of the biggest dilemmas I’ve faced as an adoptive mum. Do I tell people that my children are adopted? Or not. Do I share how we became a family and the rocky road we took? Or not.
The general consensus from our adoption training was we should be open and honest. Don’t hide it. Try to normalise it. I understand this, however, faced with the reality, the situation proved quite different for me.
Our social worker was less encouraging about the need to tell everyone. Discussions around the need to protect our children sat firmly in my mind. Protecting them and their identity is top priority. We had also adopted within the same local authority area and there was always the underlying concern of our proximity to birth mothers. This will never ever leave my mind. Ever. And is a key factor in some of our choices.
We have always talked to our children about how we became a family through adoption. But I am not a mum that has been all “jazz hands” that my children are adopted. Certainly not with people I don’t know. People that I may never build a relationship with. That I may never see again.
For me, it’s so important I don’t put this piece of our lives out there for all to see. If you’ve read some of my other blogs, you will know that I am very proud we adopted. The fact I don’t make big announcements, is not an indication I am trying to hide it. Or that I’m trying to mislead anyone.
There are three main reasons why I keep mums the word.
Firstly, I am a mum. I’ll say that again. I am just a mum. And that is that. I don’t want to be “that lady who adopted her children”. Or “that lady with couldn’t have her own children”. And definitely not, “that poor lady”. Believe me this labelling does happen. And I am none of these things.
Secondly, my children may not want to tell people they are adopted. So why should we. I’m pretty sure this won’t happen as we talk openly and positively about adoption to them. However, you can’t undo a spoken word. So sometimes things are better left unsaid.
My main rule is that it is their story to tell – if and when they choose to. I firmly see this as one of my main responsibilities as their parent. To protect their story. Their history. This is one of the reasons I stay faceless on social media. Not just to protect them from prying eyes. But because they may not like me making our story so public. Especially the personal bits. The challenges. Being open may make it easier for me on a day to day basis, but maybe not for them.
Lastly, often people just don’t know what to say when you tell them. Some mumble. Shuffle awkwardly. Avoid eye contact. Their pitch gets higher – sometimes their eyebrows. Not all, but many. I take the view I can handle the situation far better than they can; I’ll have to for my whole life. That comes hand in hand with being an adoptive parent. Adoption preparation training has helped me with coping mechanisms and it’s for me to learn to use these in the most appropriate way. It would be unfair of me to expect this from others.
I don’t want anyone to feel awkward or regretful of a passing comment. Because they just didn’t know what to say. You know, the “that’s a lovely thing to do” comment, or the “they are so lucky to have you” comment. None of which are made with malice. Or bad intent. But all things I basically could just do without hearing. A win-win for both of us.
Of course, this has meant over the years I have had to worm my way around some very awkward questions – “where does that curly hair come from?”“she’s tall for her age, does she get that from her dad?”…and of course “how was the birth?”
To help with this, I prepared some standard responses. And generally told the truth. My husband is tall. He did have curly hair when he was young. These are true statements. We know things about the births. Factual information around weight, times, type of birth. All things in their profiles and medical reports.
I spoke no lies. I never said I gave birth or talked about a pregnancy I didn’t have. If I couldn’t avoid the question, I answered in a way that dealt with that topic. Then moved on.
At the time, I didn’t feel like I was misleading anyone. But the truth is I probably was. But I felt included. Accepted. Part of a group I had longed to be welcomed into for so long. And it felt amazing. Perhaps selfishly, I didn’t want anything to spoil it. I didn’t want any awkwardness. People feeling they couldn’t – or shouldn’t – say something in fear of upsetting me or making me feel uncomfortable.
So, I just went with it. I swiftly learnt to change the subject to more relevant things – “actually I’m just wondering how you are coping with teething/weaning/sleep regression”. Directing the conversation to one I could speak about with genuine experience.
I quickly noticed once babies where more than around 6 months old, people generally didn’t retell their births in detail. They become more consumed in the next challenge. So, I found it was never a real issue to navigate around.
I must add a very important point here. Both of my children were under 1 when they came home. This obviously made things easier. I could confidently replay many firsts because I had experienced them. It was feasible that it was first time I stumbled across a playgroup. That I hadn’t got around to joining anything until this point. I appreciate this is harder if children have been placed when older.
Having said all this, I can’t say I wasn’t a bundle of nerves the first few times I went to playgroups. I totally was! In hindsight, I wonder if I caused myself more stress deciding not to tell people, than if I had been honest.
Even to a group of people who I am now proud to call my “mum friends”, it was a long time before I told them we had adopted. We were just mums together. Dealing with whatever parenthood was throwing at us at that time. Enjoying wine nights and gossip. I absolutely loved it.
Looking back, it is quite incredible I didn’t tell them sooner. And very unintentional. Based on their unbelievably supportive reactions when I did share our story, I have absolutely no idea why I didn’t tell them sooner. I guess I just got caught up in everyday mum life.
There is no right or wrong answer to this. You must go with whatever feels right for you. Follow your instinct. My advice is share what you feel comfortable with when you feel comfortable doing so. Don’t feel pressurised into jumping in with the “A word” if it doesn’t feel right. People who become firm friends, should be there for you if you tell them everything. Or nothing.
Above anything else, remember you are a mum. Your journey to parenthood may have been a turbulent one. But you belong. You belong in a group of people fortunate to have the little ones they have. In whatever way your family was made. Enjoy every precious moment.
Keeping birth family updated on the progress of your child is an important part any adoption journey. Something I totally agree with. So why do I often hear how hard people find it?
Agreeing letterbox contact is something all adoptive parents do. It will either be welcomed by birth families. Or not. It will either be requested and read by birth families. Or not.
I have to say, I still feel a little in the dark about this part of the process. Even seven years on. Very little guidance was initially given, even on the basics of what to include. Generally, we were told – keep it brief, simple, and unidentifiable. Reference where they are against milestones to cover development. Discuss likes and hobbies. Not a huge amount to go on.
I must point out that our contact letters are not read. Well not now anyway. We write once a year and they are put “on file”. We have never had a letter from our children’s birth parents or extended family, and we don’t anticipate this changing – but we can hope.
We always have in mind that one day birth mothers may feel the time is right to read them. But this actually makes it harder for me. If they’ve never had any updates, then one day they sit down and read years worth in one go – I question if they will give the truest reflection of the life we have. The life they helped create.
Do we downplay the indescribable happiness we have so as not to upset them? Or do we over do the good stuff to show them how much we love, cherish and care for the children they gave birth to?
I am not alone in my thoughts. Here is an honest account of how Instagram account @rosie_freckle_bird approaches letterbox contact and the challenges they face:
“Letterbox is the hardest part of our lives as adoptive parents. Well, correction, I think it is the hardest part of my parenting life. I can’t do it, so my husband writes all the letters.
We are told by social workers it is imperative for children to have contact from their birth relatives and I think I agree. What I don’t think is expanded on enough though, is how facing up to writing the blooming things, can make you feel and what happens if the relationship with the Letterbox team, breaks down.
At the beginning, before bringing our children home, there were discussions around who in the birth family we would write to and how often. Even back then, I gulped. The pressure was huge.
It was proposed we would write twice a year to birth mum and a half sibling and his carer, and once a year to birth dad. Even then, it seemed we would just be getting over writing one letter, to very quickly be prepping for the next batch.
Despite knowing it is the right thing to do – and I do believe it is right for our kids – the idea of it, never gets any easier. Four years on, knowing our kids as we now do, (they are nosy little things!), I’m sure they will be keen to read these letters when the time is right.
My husband keeps our letters simple. I think it helps him detach from who we are writing to and about whom. He has a template on our laptop. This is amended each time and saved. He sends pretty much the same letter to each family member and we have a file so the kids can see what we wrote, every year. They can see we tried.
At first, receiving a letter back from the family, was interesting. But I do feel we were falsely led into thinking this was going to be a regular occurrence. I think we’ve received four in total. The reality kicked in when we waited for a reply to a letter a few years ago which just didn’t arrive. We asked a medical question that only birth family would know. It’s hard not to become dispirited. Why should we write so often? Were they even collecting the letters from the Letterbox team? Didn’t they care?
Our children’s sibling’s parents’ have never replied to any of our correspondence. Sadly, we know nothing about the child we are writing to. We did meet our children’s birth mother, so in a way, that letter was a little simpler to write. With their birth dad, we know so few details so it’s hard to visualise him reading it.
We decided to take some action. After making some calls, our curiosity was satisfied. We discovered our letters were always collected by the family from the Local Authority – but still the replies stopped. I often felt they couldn’t be bothered to reply. I’m sure it isn’t like that. That it must be painful for them to pick them up, let alone reply. But I started to feel like it was pointless, and painful.
Around two years into our adoption, our lovely Local Authority (LA) merged with other agencies, but sadly this meant we lost a lot of their excellent customer care. We noticed mishaps starting to appear with Letterbox service. Initially we experienced administrative errors.
Then, we missed a series of letters to the birth family, which was a complete oversight on our part, but the LA didn’t alert us to this, until a whole five months after it was due. Apparently, it was the birth mother who had enquired as to where her letter was. So, of course we wrote.
Next, the one and only letter was received from the children’s birth father – it contained inappropriate content. It stated there were additional siblings (that had not been verified) and this resulted in me making various phone calls to complain. I felt the Letterbox staff were supporting the birth families in their reason for writing, and not always thinking of us. Not considering how some of the letters might make us feel. And ultimately our children.
Despite speaking very openly and honestly to the staff, I didn’t feel respected. Those were tough calls to make, yet I didn’t feel my worries were valued. I was simply told that these letters are ‘nicer than some I’ve seen’ and ‘at least you are getting some letters back for your kids’. I felt like the staff only saw the point of the letters from the birth family perspective, and not in any way ours. What the staff didn’t pick up on was how grieved some of the content made us feel. Especially me.
Letterbox contact has not always been a positive experience, and for now, we have drifted off our original agreement. We have only written once this year, but I guess we can blame Covid for that! But we will still persevere. At the end of the day, the whole process is not for us, it is for the benefit of our children. And this is more important than anything.
To help, I’ve taken some positive action of my own. I’ve written letters I never grumble about writing. Letters to my children to explain how the Letterbox system hasn’t always worked. I’ve explained we have tried, very hard. I write honestly to my children. I hope they will understand. These are important letters for me and ones that I think my children – as their mum – need to know.“
As you can see from what @rosie_freckle_bird has shared, letterbox contact is not always easy. Not always a positive experience. Local authorities now have letterbox contact teams, but unfortunately, for some, it still doesn’t always go smoothly.
One of the things I hear a lot, is that birth families start sending letters – then stop. Why? Have they run out of enthusiasm? Do they find it incredibly hard? Upsetting. Have they moved on? Accepted. Or have they got a happy family of their own now? I hope it is the latter. Although this may provide little comfort for our children.
Either way, it is a hard situation to manage with our children. To explain why they had some form of contact and then it stopped. Luckily, there is now far more training and support available around this topic, mainly from the likes of @adoptionuk. Check out what they have available or contact your adoption agency. Appreciate the importance and get help on the best way to approach it.
The key thing about letterbox contact, the thing that strikes me the most, is who we are really doing it for. Of course, it’s to update birth families. But most importantly, it’s for our children.
Despite the challenges, this guest blog is very clear about this. Letterbox contact means that one day we can say to our children we did what we could to keep connections alive. Memories. Their history. And this is a very good feeling.
The matching process for adoption is exciting. It makes everything real. But there is a lot to consider. One of the biggest decisions is if you can open your heart and home to a little one with additional needs. Whether this is medical, emotional or behavioral.
For some this is a straight yes or no. For others – a maybe. I will never forget filling out the “Pro-forma for Matching”. Time to really visualise the child we would call our son or daughter. The situations to consider became more severe as we moved down the list. It felt like a tick box exercise. This part did not sit easy with me.
We did not enter adoption with rose tinted glasses. Generally, children do not join the adoption system unless they have experienced trauma of some kind. Or have medical conditions that need additional support. Little ones need a safe and secure home. A place to thrive. Develop. Grow.
But at this stage we – well, mainly me really – were warn out. Physically and emotionally. We had to be honest with each other and the social workers. After a turbulent 10 years, we didn’t know if we had the strength to offer a child with a serious medical condition or severe trauma experience, what they needed. The inevitable additional care. It feels selfish writing this. Especially knowing that children deemed “harder to place” need safe, secure, and happy homes more than anyone. I felt like I was letting them down. But we had to be honest.
So, what is it like to welcome a child that has got additional medical needs? Here, Jessica from Instagram account @thelewisfamilyuk, shares their story:
“We knew when we received A’s profile that she had Global Development Delay. She is now 2 but still doesn’t walk or talk. Her hands are always folded in, although since being home with us she has started to open them more and more which is a really positive sign. When we first met her, she couldn’t sit on her own and she didn’t have great head control.
We were never told she was born with disabilities. She had a genetic test done and that ruled out down syndrome. So, at the time the only explanation was sadly to think that her condition was due to neglect. But we knew we needed to find out more.
There is a lot to factor into our day to day lives. She goes to physio every week and has various other medical appointments. We saw a paediatrician within a month of her coming to us and she put A developmentally at just 4 months old. She has recently seen the paediatrician again who has now put her at 6-7 month. We are having further investigations including being referred to neurology.
We did have the opportunity to meet birth dad and grandma a month after seeing the pediatrician. They asked if we had received any diagnosis. Surprisingly, they said they always knew she had a disability. So, it turned out her medical condition wasn’t just due down to neglect.
This made us realise we needed to question professionals more on what her condition could be. The physio has always said she has the tone of someone with cerebral palsy. Although no official diagnosis has been given. More investigations will take place to hopefully find out more.
A has AFOs (splints) that help flatten her feet as she stands on the points of her toes. She also has gators that help straighten and strengthen her legs. She has a stand frame which she stands in for periods of time – this has really helped her. She also has a specialist highchair that helps with making sure she is sitting properly. We’ve started using it, so she has a seat outside as well and to play in.
A also has a seating system that helps with her sitting and with that she is able to sit on her own. She is currently waiting for a walker that she’ll be able to use outside and can get to and from places more easily. We are looking forward to this as it will really help her be more independent. She also has a bath aid as she can’t sit on her own in the bath. It is safe to say our home is full of equipment!
Since being us, we have noticed HUGE improvements. A now walks when we hold her. She has a walker from the foster carer which is the one you get for babies. This was great and she got incredibly strong in it, but she has now outgrown it.
A has recently started picking things up with her full hand with encouragement. She sits for small periods of time on her own, and for the first time the other day, she sat for a whole half an hour (although since then has gone back to sitting for minutes but we now know the strength is there). She now rolls over and has great head control.
One thing wehaven’t seen such good progress with is her speech. We have to say it hasn’t really moved on. She still only really makes the same noises – although these are very cute! As A is getting older, we’re noticing more things that might need to be assessed. As she’s got stronger there seems to be a turn in her left leg that comes from the hip. Something additional that the relevant professionals know about and will continue to monitor.
We have recently received her EHCP (Education Health and Care Plan). It confirms she will need 1:1 support in nursery and be provided with all the things to help her with day to day life. We are so pleased to say that she has just also been accepted into a special school for next year. This was yet another process to go through which involved her case going to a special panel and they presented her EHCP and all her professional letters.
When deciding between a mainstream or special school, we had to decide where we feel she would thrive. We feel we have made the right choice and that she will do just this at a special school! It is so hard deciding your child’s future and knowing if you have made the right decision for them, but we are really happy with it.
We have a long way to go but watching her get stronger and seeing the determination in her is amazing. She is a smart cookie and knows exactly what she wants and will let you know when you are doing something wrong! I cannot wait to watch her become more and more of the amazing girl she is!“
I absolutely love following this beautiful family on social media. Honestly, there is nothing more beautiful than A’s smile. What a delight to brighten up anybody’s day!
What strikes me most about how Jessica writes, is that not once does she say that her daughter’s needs are hard to deal with. Difficult to manage. There is no reference to bad days. Frustrations. I’m sure there are many times when things feel tough, but these pale into insignificance when you see the joy A brings. This family is such a strong unit.
They seem to move through each day and just facing whatever it brings. This is a true tale of the wonder of adoption. Giving A the love, care and support she needs is proving invaluable in her development.
So, maybe when you are thinking of your forever family, think wider. Take more time. Do some research. Speak to medical professionals. Really consider what you can offer. What the future might hold with a little one just like A. How amazing it would be to see them develop.
Think about families like this. Families where the thing that stands out above anything else – is love. I feel honored to have not only shared her story, but to be able to watch her grow into the gorgeous girl she has become. You can follow them on Instagram @thelewisfamilyuk.
You can find me there too, as well as on Facebook and Twitter. Follow me through the links on my Home page.
Sometimes I feel adoption journeys focus just on the adoptive parents. But there’s a whole host of other people in support networks. Who need to learn. Adapt. Prepare.
As with the arrival of any baby, family will want to play their part. But things are different when the route is adoption. Some may even feel a little uncertain, but afraid to show their feelings. There is a lot to process. For everyone. So, how much information should we share with family about life stories? What exactly do they need to learn to help prepare? Where can information be found? Will they feel differently about the child? There’s clearly a lot to consider.
To help answer some of these questions, I’m delighted to have been contacted by a wonderful adoptive “auntie-to-be”. She has taken some remarkable steps to support her sister and brother-in-law on their adoption journey. I’m thrilled to share how she is approaching it. How she is preparing herself the best she can. Here is @joiningthejourney ‘s story:
When my sister and brother-in-law told me they were hoping to adopt, my first reaction was overwhelming excitement. I was elated at the prospect of becoming an auntie! Although I hadn’t been aware that adoption was something they had been exploring, I knew they were hoping to start a family soon. This news meant they were one step closer.
I realised I had very little knowledge about the adoption process so started to research the process in the UK. I had lots of questions about the whole thing – How long would it take? How would the process work? What age might their child be when they came home? As I started to think through the practicalities a bit more, worries began to creep in about some aspects of becoming an auntie through adoption.
As someone who loves babies, I was (selfishly) a little concerned that my experience of becoming an auntie wouldn’t be the same as if my sister had had a birth child. Particularly if the child they adopted was older. I also feared I wouldn’t be able to be as hands on either. I read lots about the importance of the parents being the ones to meet as many of their child’s emotional and care needs as possible. Whilst this all made complete sense, from an attachment point of view, it did worry me a little. I’m the sort of person who loves to get involved and would probably struggle to step back.
I’m very close to my sister. She’s told me lots about each stage of the adoption process as and when it’s come up. She’s definitely been my biggest educator on adoption so far! I wanted to support them as best I could, so decided to find out more for myself. I read some articles online and some books recommended by my sister. I also watched some vlogs about UK adoption. All of these were really helpful, but I found there wasn’t a vast amount of information specifically aimed at friends and family of those adopting.
Whilst I appreciate this is quite a niche area, I do feel that equipping family and friends would have a directly positive impact on the support they can provide, therefore helping the adoptive family as a whole.
Luckily, their agency offered a training session designed specifically for family and friends of those adopting. This was probably one of the most helpful ‘resources’ I accessed. The training covered a variety of topics surrounding adoption. All targeted at family and friends. It also provided an opportunity to ask direct questions to a social worker.
The training focused on the support adopters would need and how we could give it. Practically and emotionally. I found this really helpful. Even though there will be times to step back and give them some space as a family, the training helped me see I can still play an active role in supporting them by doing practical things to help. Delivering meal and listening when they need to talk are just some examples.
Recently, I’ve become increasingly aware of the adoption community on Instagram and the wealth of personal experience it shares. I began to follow a range of accounts, from those who are going through the adoption process now, to those who became a family through adoption many years ago.
I found these personal accounts so helpful. It’s helped me to gain a much richer picture of some of the joys and challenges of adoption. Obviously, everyone’s story is different. It’s important to remember that. But I’ve found insights into the family life of those who have adopted really informative.
I took this a step further and decided to set up an Instagram account, separate from my personal one. Somewhere I can focus on following adoption-specific accounts and share some of the resources I’ve found useful. I’m certainly not an expert in this field, but I hope that by collating helpful information in one place, it might be useful for family or friends of those starting their journey to adoption in the future.
My sister and brother-in-law are due to go to panel very soon – I’m currently learning all about the Prospective Adopter’s Report (PAR) and what happens during and after panel. They are being recommended for traditional adoption and Foster to Adopt. They both feel very passionately about the positive impact that early permanence placements can have. I’ve really enjoyed learning more about this with them.
There are some uncertainties with Foster to Adopt which can be quite a worry. I know I have considered how heart-breaking it would be, both for them as a couple, and for the wider family, if a child was to be returned to birth family after we’ve all bonded with them. However, my sister and brother-in-law have always approached this potential risk with a realistic mindset. Given much consideration to how significant such a loss would be. They have the very selfless attitude that ultimately what is best for the child is the most important thing. This has helped me to refocus on the main motivation of the process; the child.
Throughout this process, as I’ve read more about specific family stories and accessed more support, my initial worries about adoption have been alleviated. I know I’ll play an active part in my future niece or nephew’s life. That I will be able to support my sister and brother-in-law, both practically and emotionally. There may be times when I need to step back, but ultimately it’s the child’s best interests that matter most. It’s a very small price to pay for ensuring my niece or nephew has the best possible start in becoming a secure and happy part of our family. I am so excited for the next stage in the process to begin. I already have so much love for my future niece or nephew and I am so excited to meet them. I can’t wait to welcome them into our family one day soon!
If you are in a similar position and would like to learn more about adoption, here’s a few ideas of things you can do to get you started:
Ask questions of the prospective adopters and show an interest in the process
Read about adoption (both factual and personal experiences). Some specific books I found helpful:
No Matter What – Sally Donovan
Related by Adoption – Heidi Argent
Home for Good – Krish Kandiah
Listen to podcasts/watch vlogs. Some specific ones I found helpful:
The Adoption – BBC Radio 4
Aimee Vlog on YouTube (Aimee provides videos explaining the process, documenting their experiences, and also a very useful grandparent interview)
Ask if there is any specific support available through the agency – this could be training or a webinar
Well I’m sure you’ll agree that a special little one will be very lucky to have such a kind, thoughtful and loving auntie one day! I love the honesty of how @joiningthejourney felt apprehensive at the beginning. A very natural feeling. I’m sure a poll around this amongst family or friends of prospective adopters, would show many feel exactly the same.
What strikes me, is there are fairly limited resources for wider family members of prospective adopters. Something as an author I’m already working on. This was certainly the case when we adopted. There was no opportunity for family to attend official training. I think this would have been invaluable.
We were fortunate to have experienced grandparents, aunties and uncles in our support circle, but adoption was something new to them. To us all. And it is different. Initially anyway. There would be no passing our child around a room full of “ohhhs and ahhhs”. It took them a while to understand that for a period of time they would need to take a back seat. This went against all their instincts and was a hard message to relay.
What I can whole heartedly say now, is our family and friends love our children unconditionally. I actually think sometimes they forget we adopted! It didn’t take them long to bond. To love them. What melts my heart more than anything, is just how much my children know – feel – how loved they are. By everybody.
You can find @joiningthejourney on Instagram. Please give her a follow and a share so that more family and friends of prospective adopters can find her lovely account. Thank you @joiningthejourney for all you are doing to support others. I cannot wait to hear the exciting news of the day you become an auntie…good luck to you all.
Don’t forget you can find all my social media links on my Homepage, as well as detail of my children’s adoption storybook – The Family Fairies.
The wait for a match can seem like an eternity. Especially after a roller-coaster of a journey. It feels like you literally can’t wait any longer.
We were exceptionally lucky with both our children. Links came our way very quickly. We were just on the right part of the curve at the right time.
Oddly, I dreaded this part. Of course, deep down I was excited. My chance to become a mum finally on the horizon. But I was really nervous. Nervous that I wouldn’t feel a connection to a profile. That we might have to say “no”. I couldn’t bear this thought. It was a choice about a child. A little human being. One that had probably been through the mill. But what if I couldn’t give them what they needed?
Thankfully, this part of our story played out perfectly. I feel fortunate our matches went smoothly. But sometimes this isn’t the case. @raising_roo_ is a single adopter and mum to a beautiful girl, she talks about their journey to form their family…
“I attended an Information Evening in June 2017 then made my first phone call in July. My initial home visit took place later that month. I was given my outcome pretty quickly – I was actually invited to attend Stage 1 training the very next day! I hadn’t even completed my “Registration of Interest Form”. The Adoption Team were keen to avoid any delays as the next training after this was September.
My assessment process was pretty straightforward and followed the “expected” timescales. I completed Stage 1 and progressed to Stage 2. This was a series of meetings with my Assessing Social Worker “L”. L was an experienced social worker but new to the Adoption Team. I was actually her first potential adopter. For this reason, I had a “Second Opinion” visit in December 2017. L and her manager visited and went through my assessment to ensure all the questions panel might ask were covered. I experienced anxiety and depression throughout my teens and early 20s. We explored this together, ensuring my PAR was robust to minimise any further questions.
My approval panel was on 6th February 2018. It was a nerve-wracking experience! I’m a social worker myself and have presented many foster families to panel – but it’s a very different experience as the one being assessed.
There were seven people, plus two advisors, and two observers – a lot of people in one room. I was delighted to receive a unanimous yes! I was approved for one child age 0-5. Either gender but with a preference to adopt a girl. My referees all said they saw me as a mum to a little girl. As a solo adopter, who at the time lived in a flat, I didn’t feel able to adopt a child with significant physical or cognitive disabilities. I also didn’t feel I would be able to adopt siblings.
To support me through the panel process, my mum, sister, and 4 month old nephew, came to stay (although I went into the actual panel meeting alone). After panel, we went for lunch to celebrate. I was exhausted when we got back and needed a nap. My mum and sister went to Mothercare and celebrated by looking at clothes, prams, and other baby things. It was great having them there to support me. I’d recommend any solo adopter takes a friend or family with them to panel.
My matching journey was far from straightforward. Limited profiles came my way. My first potential link was a 2 year old girl. Her social worker and family finder, and my social worker L, came for a meeting at my house. This sadly did not go well. I felt I was a good match. Her social worker thought otherwise. She was hung up on me being single and maybe meeting someone one day. She couldn’t be persuaded that I would put the little girl first, so didn’t progress with the match. L actually put in a complaint about the way she managed the potential link. It was so hard getting my hopes up only for her to have a specific opinion about solo adopters.
After this experience, I had a holiday which was a good chance to take a mental break from thinking about profiles and matches. When I got home, I met with someone from my LA family finding team. They told me they had a number of little boys who needed families, but very few girls. Any girls had very high-level needs, which I felt I couldn’t meet. I decided to join Link Maker and consider profiles from other Local Authorities.
I’d recommend adopters use Link Maker. Although there are often long delays to enquiries, and it can be disheartening to never hear back. But I found it helpful to have a sense of control in the situation. If I was interested in finding out more about a child, I could ask my questions directly. Didn’t have to wait for L to do this for me. I also found the forum on Link Maker very helpful.
Through Link Maker, in June 2018 I found N’s profile. N was a nearly 4 year old girl who’d had a lot of disruption in her little life, with many foster placement moves. I felt an immediate connection and talked to my social worker. I registered my interest and a discussion quickly started with N’s social worker. We had a meeting in July, and I found out the next day they wanted to progress with a match! I was delighted, but also overwhelmed.
Having waited for what felt like forever, I felt a massive wave of emotion. I finally had a tentative “yes”. Over the following weeks information was shared back and forth. Matching panel was planned for 18th September. I met with N’s foster parent, her nursery, and even did a “look and see” at a garden centre. Seeing a beautiful little girl skipping round and thinking “that is my daughter” was a very special feeling.
I’d shared all this excitement with my family, and some close friends. Prepared work for my adoption leave. Started getting N’s bedroom ready. I bought a lovely bed, and some new toys. I really started to believe this could be real.
Sadly, ten days before matching panel, I got the devastating call that N’s birth mother had made an application to the court to discharge N’s placement and care orders. She wanted N to return to live with her. The Judge had granted N’s application and a new set of care proceedings was to take place. As a result of this, N’s Local Authority could not go ahead with the matching panel or adoption placement. Everything was on hold.
I was distraught. In disbelief. I already thought of N as my daughter and now she wasn’t going to be? N’s situation was a very unusual one. I must stress that most birth parents wouldn’t be granted a new set of care proceedings. However, N’s birth mother had had a new baby and her parenting assessment was given a positive outcome. Her new baby daughter was living with her in the community. This demonstrated a “significant change in circumstances” which is the threshold for a birth parent to make this type of application.
After a lot of crying and soul searching, I made the sad and difficult decision to withdraw from the match. I knew the care proceedings would take at least six months to complete. There was no certainty of the outcome. I didn’t feel I could wait. The Judge could well decide that N should return to live with her birth mother. I just couldn’t face this prospect.
I’m glad to say I felt really supported by my social worker during this time. Her manager also reached out to share her sadness at what had happened. I know this was an incredibly unusual situation. Nobody could have predicted it. I don’t know what happened for N. I can only hope the outcome was positive for her – whether this was returning to her birth mother or being adopted.
It took some time to heal from this. About six weeks later, I felt able to look at profiles on Link Maker again. I found Roo’s profile in early November. Immediately there was something about her happy smile that caught my eye. I felt drawn to her in a way I can’t really explain. It definitely wasn’t a “you are the one” moment that some people have. Perhaps my experience with N made me protect myself emotionally. But I didn’t want to pursue any other discussions about other children until I had an answer about Roo.
Roo was 11 months old and had been fostered since she was born. Her older half-brothers had been placed in foster care while their birth mother was pregnant. The hope was they would all be adopted together. Sadly, her brothers had significant additional needs resulting from their trauma in the birth family home. A decision was made that Roo should be adopted separately, with a plan for ongoing sibling contact. After a few weeks of discussions, we had a meeting in December 2018. The next day I heard the amazing news the social worker and family finder felt I was the right mummy for Roo. They had 15 potential families who’d registered an interest in her profile in just one day…but I was the only adopter they visited.
I didn’t tell my family anything about Roo until Christmas Day. I surprised them with a letter board saying her name and “Coming Home Spring 2019”. There were a lot of happy tears over our Turkey dinner!
I met Roo’s foster parent in January 2019 to find out more about her. Matching panel was booked for 6th February. The ADM came back on 14th February, but because of half term for Roo’s brothers, our introduction period didn’t start until 25th February 2019. I count that as the day I became Roo’s mum.
We had nine days of introductions. I think this was too long when it came to it – but it made sense at the time. Roo visited my house for the first time on Day 6 and moved in on 6th March 2019. We recently celebrated our one year “Coming Home” anniversary. Roo was 15 months old when we she moved in. I’m looking forward to celebrating the day when she has been living with me for longer than she was in care. That feels like a significant milestone for me.
Being a mum is incredibly challenging. In some ways maybe harder because I’m a solo parent – but then, I know it’s hard for couples too. To navigate their own relationship while beginning a new one with their child. So, let’s just say, adoption is really hard! But it is also wonderful. For every sleepless night, there is a beautiful smile. For every meltdown – a moment of pure joy. When your child initiates a cuddle or holdings hands. These moments are priceless.
If I could give advice for during matching, it would be to take care of yourself. Sleep, eat good food, see your friends, have very real and honest discussions. It’s incredibly hard to be patient throughout the process, but this is good practice for parenting. Your patience will be constantly tested but it is so worth it.
I’m in awe of what Roo has achieved and of who she is as a person. I take pride in helping her to become an amazing little girl. We have a beautiful, adventurous life ahead of us!“
What a detailed and honest account of @raising_roo_’s experience of the matching process. It’s hard to hear when things don’t go smoothly. When upsetting situations arise. But I believe it’s important to share. To show all sides. Even of rare occasions. I know a lot of adopters and rest assured; many matches get approved without problems.
But @raising_roo_ went through a lot. A lot of heartache. She needed to keep her faith. Follow her instincts. Wait for the stars to align. Thankfully, she did just that and now has the most beautiful little girl. It’s a delight to see the bond they have.
Matching is the most significant part of the whole process. Everything rides on it. The most pressure I felt was on the day the social workers visited to see if they wanted to go forward with us as the adoptive parents of our children.
I didn’t know how to react. I certainly waffled. Nervously giggled. Probably tried too hard. Luckily, my husband is the cool, calm and collected one. They probably thought these qualities made us a well-balanced couple…and they are absolutely right.
You can follow @raising_roo_ on Instagram to see this beautiful family as it continues on it’s special adoption journey. Remember you can also follow me there too – you can find all the links to me social medias on my Homepage.
If anyone is looking for some support in helping to explain key stages of the adoption process to their little ones, including matching, you can Purchase a Copy Here of my children’s adoption storybook – The Family Fairies.
We always thought we would adopt siblings. Together, from the beginning. After a lengthy and turbulent journey, I thought I wouldn’t be able to face doing it again. That I wouldn’t be able to find the strength. Again.
In essence, I guess I thought it would be better to get it “over and done with” in one go. We were also acutely aware of the shortage of prospective adopters prepared to take siblings. Of the importance of keeping siblings together. It’s odd how things never quite go to plan. How the universe moves in mysterious ways.
When we had thecall a few weeks after approval, it was not what we were expecting. We’d been assessed for siblings. Been approved for siblings. Were practically and emotionally preparing for siblings. The call was a possible match – but for one. That moment is all a bit of a blur. I was so taken aback. Knocked off my perch.
A few days later we realised this was in fact the most unbelievably life changing call. The circumstances around the link were so positive. It would have been foolish of us not to find out more. Of course, as soon as we saw the profile – the picture – that was it. Love at first sight.
The rest is history as people would say. Four years later we did apply again. We do have the siblings we always wanted. They may not be connected through birth, but they are brother and sister in every way possible. We made the right decision. Followed our instincts. Listened to our heads and hearts. Took guidance from the professionals. The mere thought that we might have passed our daughter by as it wasn’t our original plan, well, that’s not actually worth thinking about.
So, what is it really like to adopt siblings? – at the same time. I’m delighted to introduce one of the first adoption Instagram accounts I followed – @andso_theadventurebegins. With her husband, they adopted twins and here she shares with us her story.
“I always knew I would be a mum and adoption was always a route I was open to taking. Thankfully, my husband was on board too.
The journey wasn’t straightforward. During the process there are many hoops to jump through and lots of questions to answer. One question was easy though – “would you consider adopting siblings?”. This was a no brainer for us. If the opportunity arose then yes, we would love to adopt siblings.
We both have siblings ourselves and knew we wanted more than one child. So, it made sense to be assessed and approved for siblings. Importantly for us, it also made sense that our children would have a shared history. We were aware that not all children are able to be adopted together. We felt that if this was the right thing for the children, we could meet that need of keeping them together.
We were approved to adopt at panel in February 2017. We waited two weeks for confirmation from the agency decision maker (ADM). Our social worker called to tell us we had ADM approval and then added “would you consider adopting twins? I think they would be a good match for you.” I thought she was joking at first. She wasn’t.
I was at the social workers office within the hour to collect the twins profiles. The photos were useless. Their descriptions were just an A4 page each, but that was enough for us to want to know more. Three months later the match was approved at panel and they came home with us for good in July 2018.
Then came the learning curve and it was a steep one! It was no surprise to us that the children had challenging and complex needs. But we were not prepared for the different parenting styles each of them required. Our boy, Bambam, liked to shout, demanded constant attention and generally liked to be in charge. Our girl, Bean, hated any loud or sudden noises, was incredibly insular and needed encouragement to engage with simple tasks. At times, especially when there was only one of us at home, this felt impossible. I have to be honest to say we found it difficult to meet both of their needs consistently.
Bambam and Bean have what I believe to be a trauma bond. For some children, a trauma bond with a sibling can lead to difficulties in developing an attachment with a caregiver because the children are over reliant on each other. Bambam and Bean didn’t necessarily have that to begin with, but I believe it developed over time. Initially, they didn’t play together. They didn’t even really care what the other did or said. However, with their shared history came a shared trauma. They had experienced this together – albeit in completely different ways.
Although they both suffered neglect, one was favoured and the other was scapegoated. When they first came home, they would fight for resources and really hurt one another. We’re not talking usual sibling rivalry. It was survival of the fittest type behaviour. They couldn’t be left alone together. Ever. This makes sense when their experience had been there wasn’t enough love, attention, food or toys to go around. On top of that, they would desperately attempt to stop the other being upset. Seemingly in fear of repercussions for themselves.
It was hard and I am sad to say I sometimes wondered if they should have been placed together. We threw ourselves into therapeutic parenting. We tried to meet their individual needs; one went to nursery a month before the other for example because they needed different things. Gradually the fog cleared.
They started asking about each other. They stopped hurting each other as much. Bean found her voice and Bambam began to let her. They would spontaneously hug and kiss each other. Then, one day they asked to share a bedroom and still do. Now I have no doubt that keeping them together was the right thing to do.
I have shared all of this not to scare you, but to provide some insight into the reality, or at least our reality, of adopting siblings. It was hard and, on some days, it still is. They still have hugely differing needs. It’s impossible to do it all, all the time. But would we do it all again? Yes. In a heartbeat. They are the very best decision we have ever made.”
This is such an open and honest account of a real challenge adoption can bring. Thank you @andso_theadventurebegins for sharing the reality of how early life trauma can impact on the behaviours of little ones. A situation that prospective adopters may be faced with. Not all. But some.
My intention with these blogs is to show the good, and the challenges. This guest blog does just that. As mentioned, this is not to scare you. After all, it’s a story with a happy ending. It may not be this way for you. But, I think it’s important to know the possibilities. To hear first hand. Remember there is a lot of support out there for adopters experiencing challenges. Through your adoption agency or the likes of leading adoption charity Adoption UK.
Despite these difficulties. Without question they made the right decision. For them. For their children. It’s an absolute joy to see how they are progressing. To see the love, commitment and dedication these precious children now receive. It’s so heart-warming to see the bond the children now have with each other. With their mummy and daddy.
Adoption isn’t always straight forward. The early days are tough. As you wade through the unknown. Scared to say or do the wrong thing. I tried to remind myself that becoming parents is difficult. For everyone. In whatever way you happen to have your children. Stories I’d hear from friends with birth children showed this was of course difficult too. Challenges are real for us all. Whatever form they take…“we are not all in the same boat, but we are all in the same storm”.
As adoptive parents, we are not responsible for what our children may have been through. Often, I think we carry the burden as if we had. We give them the love, safety and security they deserve. And with time, we help them heal. Show how life should be. As a forever family. And it’s without question the best feeling in the world.