Just back from a lovely five days staying with our friend in the countryside. Lots of walks and sitting in the sun and eating and chatting. She's seven months pregnant so beginning to wind things down a bit now. This made me think that I could be the equivalent of seven months pregnant, in that our child will potentially be coming to live with us September time, maybe earlier (eeek! woah! wow!). I have always urged my pregnant clients to wind things down and enjoy the peaceful and reflective time pre-life-change-new-baby, and I thought to myself that I ought to heed my own advice, despite the fact I'll have no bump to lug about as an excuse. So I am planning a little time out, some reflection, maybe a weekend away, maybe a massage or two. We'll see whether I manage to put it into practice.
My friend is adopted herself, now in her thirties, and we talked a lot about adoption then and now. She was surprised at the level of interaction with the birth family these days, but we all talked about why this was a good thing for the child. In her day, it was 'wait until you're 18 and then you can find out more'. She didn't seem to have a problem with this, and actually decided against trying to find her birth mother (for multiple reasons too complex and personal to go into here), but I expressed my concerns that this approach only exacerbates an adoptive child's sense of dislocation and lack of identity - or does it? She didn't feel it did. It was good for us to listen, without judgement, to the real experiences of someone adopted who is now an adult. Interesting to remember that every child is different and what works for one in terms of contact may not work for another. For that we're very blessed to have an excellent, friendly and approachable contact team through our LA, who assess the relevance and enjoyment of contact annually throughout a child's life. If there's ever a time when we think it's too much for our child to manage, they can help us have a rethink. Another one of the benefits of having a great LA where everything is in-house, there's a small team, and you get to know everyone pretty quickly.
It seems another difference of adoption thirty-plus years ago is how important preparation is for adoptive parents now. The idea of a child being given to a childless couple - the parent-centred approach - has now moved much more to the child-centred approach where the wellbeing and happiness of the child is paramount (as it should be). Because of this, of course, potential adoptive parents are recquired to think long and hard about themselves, what they need to grieve before they can effectively parent a grieving child, and the kinds of fears, challenges and difficulties a child might face. In my friend's day, it was more of a case of aiming to forget the past (for both child and parent) by creating a new family. Can this work? In my friend's case, she has a very strong and loving family unit, bonded by deep respect and common interests. There are sadnesses there and unresolved stories but isn't this true of all families?
I'm being careful here because what I would never want to say is that my friend's parents got it wrong. They have brought up a beautiful, heart-centred, generous, funny, wise and compassionate daughter, despite tumultuous teen years. They were also products of their time, adopting a child when it was considered normal to forget the past and move forward. But it also made me feel very grateful to be becoming an adoptive parent when there is so much literature available on supporting adoptive children, when we have the internet at our fingertips, when there are adoption blogs to read, when local authorities provide workshops to enable each adoptive parent to think very deeply about what their role is - not just when their child is a toddler, but when they're a teenager trying to form relationships.
Amidst all this thinking and talking with my friend we watched a TV programme called Long Lost Family which, as the name suggests, sets out to reunite people with lost members of their family. The episode we watched included a woman given up for adoption looking for her birth mum, and an adopted woman looking for her birth sister. It was pretty emotional stuff and my friend and I talked again about her looking for her birth mum. Adoption these days removes the unknown from the equation - the constant nagging wondering of old-school adoption - by keeping a level of contact. I guess in a generation or so's time, there'll be no need for programmes like Long Lost Family. Lots to think about.
Showing posts with label local authority. Show all posts
Showing posts with label local authority. Show all posts
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
Friday, 18 May 2012
The possibility of fostering
So, our SW came round this lunchtime to talk to us about the kind of children we'd like to adopt. She brought round some more profiles, not of children we could adopt as they'd already been placed, but to give us an idea of the kinds of children they have on the waiting list. I asked for no photos any more else it feels like some kind of dating site, and horrible and weird. She agreed, and had decided no photos anyway. I always feel that I look completely utterly different in photos to how I really am, and photos pack so much punch, so I'd prefer to get to know our child through who they are, rather than what they look like. We discussed the possibility of adopting a child around 6-12 months, as our LA has a lot of children this age to place. We thought this was interesting when we first started with them, as we had imagined we'd adopt an older child. But it seems that information has filtered in, and here we are hoping that's the match we'll get. Our SW talked about 'concurrency' - when a baby is fostered with us from birth with a view to future adoption. It sounded good until we got to the reality that the baby would need to be seeing their birth mum and/or dad regularly - up to 7 times a week - to build an attachment. And that it might turn out that their birth mum gets to keep them, so after 6-12 months of loving and nurturing a child, we'd lose them. Our SW pointed out that often foster carers lose them with the knowledge that they might well be going somewhere that's not entirely safe and quite probably not emotionally stable. Oh lordy, that was too much to contemplate, and the fact we'd have to live with that unknown for the first year of our child's life seemed slightly too terrifying to process. But we haven't ruled it out.
Our SW also asked us 'where we were on not having a birth child'. I guess I'd put the heebie-jeebies up them by talking about babies. It's a difficult one to answer. Where are you ever on the reality of not carrying your own child? It doesn't just go away, and I'm not under any illusions that I'll just wake up one day and feel hunky dorey about it. I understand that they want to know that you have processed at least some of the emotions around it though, to be in a secure place to be able to bring up a child with their own losses to cope with. So I answered honestly and said I just wanted to be a mother and wasn't too hung up now on how that happened. I also have seen so many mothers struggling with newborns - exhausted physically and emotionally and their lives turned upside down - to not have too much of a rosy picture of the perfect newborn. What I hoped I conveyed in my rambling is that R and I have visions of a child still partially in arms, not quite a toddler, so that we have a little bit of that baby time. It has, as I've mentioned, fully surprised me how strong this feeling is for me. And, I noted, for R too, who spoke of carrying our child in a papoose. All these years of researching and writing about attachment parenting make me yearn for some of the key experiences of it: babywearing, bed-sharing, child-led weaning etc.
And then...back full circle to the feeling that we should let expectations go and leap into it with open arms. I lay in bed this morning and silently communicated with our future child...come to us, make yourself known in any way so we can sense that you are coming. I've even wished these last few days that someone - some Divine intervention - would come along and remove all decision making. Like in the old days when you might open your front door and find a baby on the doorstep... There's so much to think about, so much to take into consideration. I honestly, and perhaps stupidly, hadn't predicted this stage at all. But our LA has so many children to place, they want to get the match exactly right, so it makes sense I suppose.
A misty, cold day here today. The horizon is blurred with mist from the sea. We have so many jobs to do around the house before our child moves in, perhaps a wait whilst our SW searches is a good thing.
Our SW also asked us 'where we were on not having a birth child'. I guess I'd put the heebie-jeebies up them by talking about babies. It's a difficult one to answer. Where are you ever on the reality of not carrying your own child? It doesn't just go away, and I'm not under any illusions that I'll just wake up one day and feel hunky dorey about it. I understand that they want to know that you have processed at least some of the emotions around it though, to be in a secure place to be able to bring up a child with their own losses to cope with. So I answered honestly and said I just wanted to be a mother and wasn't too hung up now on how that happened. I also have seen so many mothers struggling with newborns - exhausted physically and emotionally and their lives turned upside down - to not have too much of a rosy picture of the perfect newborn. What I hoped I conveyed in my rambling is that R and I have visions of a child still partially in arms, not quite a toddler, so that we have a little bit of that baby time. It has, as I've mentioned, fully surprised me how strong this feeling is for me. And, I noted, for R too, who spoke of carrying our child in a papoose. All these years of researching and writing about attachment parenting make me yearn for some of the key experiences of it: babywearing, bed-sharing, child-led weaning etc.
And then...back full circle to the feeling that we should let expectations go and leap into it with open arms. I lay in bed this morning and silently communicated with our future child...come to us, make yourself known in any way so we can sense that you are coming. I've even wished these last few days that someone - some Divine intervention - would come along and remove all decision making. Like in the old days when you might open your front door and find a baby on the doorstep... There's so much to think about, so much to take into consideration. I honestly, and perhaps stupidly, hadn't predicted this stage at all. But our LA has so many children to place, they want to get the match exactly right, so it makes sense I suppose.
A misty, cold day here today. The horizon is blurred with mist from the sea. We have so many jobs to do around the house before our child moves in, perhaps a wait whilst our SW searches is a good thing.
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Support
I spoke to one of closest friends this morning, just back from running a hostel in Ethiopia. She's seven months pregnant with her first child. She's also, as I've mentioned in previous posts, adopted herself. The news of her pregnancy broke just as things were really starting to move with our adoption, in one of life's extraordinary synchronicities. We were laughing this morning that we just couldn't have dreamt it up - her pregnancy being something of a surprise. Life is what happens when you're busy looking the other way! It seems that we'll be mothers around the same time. With all my years of supporting pregnant and birthing women, I hope I'll be a source of support to her. With her personal experiences of being adopted, she's already provided me with some real insights into what being adopted means throughout life. As I mentioned before, I got a bit of panic on after I'd expressed my joy and excitement at her pregnancy news back in February, and wondered how it would feel to be going through home study etc. whilst she prepared for her impending arrival. Miraculously, our adoption speeded up around then, and it looks as if our motherhood experiences will run in parallel, though of course our children will be different ages. I have long wanted her to be godmother to our child, because of her understanding of adoption, and I hope our children will be friends for life.
Running alongside our adoption process, there have been many synchronicities like this. I have been supporting an overseas friend via email with her adoptive daughter's transition into teens, discussing and musing with her the meaning of identity and birth family. Her daughter is raging and wild, angry and sad, but there are also moments of connection and beauty in the midst of it all. I have felt honoured to share their experience, and it has been SUCH an eye-opener for me! Talking to my pregnant friend's adoptive mum has also revealed so much, mostly on that count about deep, abiding, maternal love. Both R and I feel blessed to have friends in our lives who really know what adoption means, from both parent and child perspective.
My mum and dad and R's mum both attended a friends and family day, organised by our Local Authority. I felt nervous about them coming all this way, and how they might feel about it all. But it proved to be an amazing opportunity for them, to meet other adoptive grandparents, to ask questions, to really think through what it might mean to be adopted. I feel so lucky to have an LA that puts a focus on this, the support aspect, of adoption. We went for lunch at R's mum's last Sunday, and my mum and dad came too. All were delighted and excited about this next chapter, and I feel that's thanks to the workshop.
Running alongside our adoption process, there have been many synchronicities like this. I have been supporting an overseas friend via email with her adoptive daughter's transition into teens, discussing and musing with her the meaning of identity and birth family. Her daughter is raging and wild, angry and sad, but there are also moments of connection and beauty in the midst of it all. I have felt honoured to share their experience, and it has been SUCH an eye-opener for me! Talking to my pregnant friend's adoptive mum has also revealed so much, mostly on that count about deep, abiding, maternal love. Both R and I feel blessed to have friends in our lives who really know what adoption means, from both parent and child perspective.
My mum and dad and R's mum both attended a friends and family day, organised by our Local Authority. I felt nervous about them coming all this way, and how they might feel about it all. But it proved to be an amazing opportunity for them, to meet other adoptive grandparents, to ask questions, to really think through what it might mean to be adopted. I feel so lucky to have an LA that puts a focus on this, the support aspect, of adoption. We went for lunch at R's mum's last Sunday, and my mum and dad came too. All were delighted and excited about this next chapter, and I feel that's thanks to the workshop.
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