Growing into dad

It was 16 years ago this week that I met my children, Sarah, Gracie and Ginger. It was the culmination, almost a year to the day, of us beginning the process of adopting.

That meeting wasn’t what I’d expected; in my imagination I’d anticipated a Walton’s moment, gushing feelings, embraces, tears and joy. The reality was far different it felt more like a slap. An jolt of awakening that this is really happening and I was going to be a dad.

Those first few weeks were, terrible feeling like I’d lost control of my self, ruined my life but unsure how to make it all ok. Great fantastic kids but strangers and no gushing love.  I felt an unbearable scrutiny, everyone seemed to be watching; Social Workers, foster carers, friends, family and the BBC film crew**.  I just didn't know how to raise my doubts so I embraced my attachment style, locked down my rising fear and kept going.

I was pretty sure I was ruining, not only my life, but the lives of these three little strangers. Too afraid to say, ’I’m not sure about this, could someone help me’, after all hadn’t I fought hard to prove I could do it? Questions about my age*, readiness, faith and motivation to take a sibling group of three had all been answered convincingly. But now perhaps it had all been a magnificent deceit of them and myself?

The next few weeks and months are a blur, new experiences and a slow shift from baby-sitting to parenting all set against the knot in my stomach.

Slowly, hour by hour, day by day and week by week I eased into this role of father. Riding the turbulence good and bad and at times hour by hour. Developing unique relationships with three little children. At difficult moments I’d think how today was easier than yesterday and this week was easer than last so perhaps tomorrow will be ok, perhaps in a year it'll feel ok. The knot eased the fear dissolved.

We did get there. I have grown into the role of dad, from early embarrassments of not even turning when my children shouted dad repeatedly to now,16 years later, still not sure what to do but probably good enough. Of course there are things I'd have done differently but that's the path of dads.

Not a week goes by when I don't see in a twitter feed news of someones impending introductions with their child and I confess to feel the icy fingers of terror and fear as well as the warmth of the blossoming love of 16 years ago.

*I was 27 years old.

**That's another story

Annie

The 1982 film Annie holds a unique place in the story of our family.

After a year of several Social Worker's scrutiny, three Panel days, 10 days of introductions and most of it being filmed by the BBC the moment finally arrived that we shut the door on them all and we were alone with Sarah, Gracie and Ginger. The palpable feeling of relief and sense of arrival was profound and as I savoured the moment the kids en mass approached me and asked if they could watch a film. Of course I thought, it would be our first unscrutinised and observed  'family moment'.

"Can we watch Annie" they asked

I was genuinely lost for words, the hours of preparation had not prepared me for this, my mind raced trying to comprehend the potential for irreparable harm.  A tale of loss and orphans just seemed inappropriate for this moment.
I sought wisdom from a higher power and she said it was fine, I was being stupid and anyway they had watched it dozens of times with their foster carers.

They went on to watch it dozens of more times, as did I, and as a result song's and scenes are hardwired into my brain and permanently linked to those fledgling moments as a family. Ginger at 20 months had uncannily 'Anniesque' curly ginger hair and the anecdotes of him singing 'the sun will come out tomorrow' at the top of his voice at every opportunity is a cornerstone of most family gatherings.

So to the new film.

In light of my history with the original I am clearly the wrong person to review this film. Furthermore, I'm a total film snob and don't approve of remakes at the best of times. Consequently, I have cast dispersions on the remake and flippantly dismissed it with limited knowledge.

But I thought I should go and Flossy and Lotty were up for it, so after the usual fighty shouty stuff we set off.

I have to say I loved it, this version felt like a contemporary fairy tale. Of course it's not realistic by any stretch of the imagination but I don't watch Jack and the beanstalk for horticultural advice.

Like all good films we watch it through the lens of our own experience. I saw a man who needed to prioritise his life and grab hold of what is important.

Flossy, when asked, described it as a film about a girl that needed to learn to trust.

Lotty just loved it, there aren't many films with characters and heroines that reflect the person she sees in the mirror.

It is non comparable to the 1982 version, that one is a classic musical with outstanding song and dance routines. However, this version had an air of magic that I was surprised at and perhaps the '82 version did not.

Perhaps I'm growing sentimental, on several occasions I stoically held back tears for fear of needing to be stretchered out due to emotional collapse. It pressed my buttons, but as a man of a certain age I am increasingly sentimental and this film hit the mark for me the adoptive father of six.
But I did enjoy it, the music was not great but I forgave it's shortcomings in light of the strong performances from the leads.

Would I recommend it? Yes.

And hello to Jason Isaaks.

I'll never forget the day you were born.

I find it intriguing to ponder on where I was and what I was doing when my children were born, clearly I wasn't there.
I was just going about my life unaware of the strange journey I was on that would intersect with them in the future. Oblivious to the life changing events that were happening with different players miles away.

The day Sarah was born I was thoroughly unemployed/unemployable rather disinterested in getting a ‘proper’ job. I was living at home with my parents bumming around trying to earn a few quid while I waited to go off and spend a few years working for a youth charity. I’d not even met that vision of loveliness, Mrs C.

When Gracie popped out I was unemployed, I’d finished my couple of years travelling around the country and was trying to find a viable way of making money doing as little as possible. I was in the throws of an (over) emotional breakup with my girlfriend. Mrs C was a friend but no more and I only had three guitars and a CD collection to my name.

Ginger's arrival into the world coincides with Mrs C and my holiday together celebrating our first year of marriage. So, as he entered into the world we were sat in the Pyrenees Mountains enjoying ourselves considering our future together.

It would be another 20 months before I would meet my children. Good luck, chance and happenstance conspired that we would come together. Their journey was a little more ‘interesting’ than ours and without doubt more challenging. Never the less we met.

Flossy exploded into the world six years later. I was an established dad by now, I had a job and was quite respectable. We hadn’t even thought about being foster carers but by the time her little sister, Lotty, arrived a year later we were almost approved foster carers and we were awaiting our panel day. In fact the day Lotty arrived was our 9^th wedding anniversary.

We met these two fireballs three months later and things have never been dull since. But like the big three their journey to us was tricky and the path to the Adoption Order was laid with many dangers, toils and snares, but we got there.

We knew Peanut was coming, but we weren’t meant to, a birth family member had tipped us off. The day she arrived we sat in our garden with a hundred or so friends, family and acquaintances holding our own Fostering and Adoption hoo ha.

We knew, everybody knew, that she was coming our way but caution and bureaucracy conspired and we waited 21 months, long months, before we met.  

And that makes six.

I have only cried once in relation to my lack of genetic offspring and I cried like I’ve never cried before or since.

It came out of the blue with no warning. The day after the birth of my friend’s child the new father told me of the trials, tribulations and joy of the birth. I had to leave and I sobbed and sobbed.

At the time I couldn’t understand why I was so upset at that point, 10 years into our adoption journey. I'd never felt such feelings before.

Now, reflecting on it, I think I was upset for Sarah, Gracie, Ginger, Flossy, Lotty, Peanut, Mrs C and Me. That we didn’t share the most important days of all our lives. 

I have to ask, where were you?

Faithful Servant

I know I'm a sentimental fool.

But with great sadness we say goodbye to an old friend who has travelled a long and winding road with us.
I remember the rush to choose you after the panel said 'yes', picking you from the myriad of possibilities.

I recall the head scratching and instruction reading when you first came and the nerves; the confusion; the wrestling in the car and the eventual success of fitting you into our car.

Do you remember the first journey we took with our new children, our excitement and nerves during introductions. I can still remember the challenge of getting our little man into you safe and snug.

When our little man grew bigger you were tucked away safe and sound in the garage.
Flossy and Lotty came and you answered our call. Yes, a little shabby but you faced this challenge. Others tried but they failed, to complicated & not comfy enough.

Those were the hard years, vomit, pee, poop, tears, snot, yoghurt raisins, juice, melted chocolate and ice cream to name some of your adversaries. You laughed at them all you were washable.

Then back to the garage to be forgotten.

Peanut came.

New seats were a pail imitation of your utility and simplicity. Frustrations came. If only we still had..........but..........yes, there at the back under the rubbish.

Ever the faithful you answered the call.
Though shabby and threadbare you held your cargo safe and sound and comfy.

But now your time has come to an end. Peanut has grown and Mrs C declared you redundant.

This time we are sure. Mrs C mentioned the tip.
I have been issued my orders and we will take our last drive today.

Your passing marks the end of an era.
So, well done good and faithful servant.

Ginger's Child Seat (June 1999 to July 2014)

Don't tell a soul but I'm hiding you in the garage. She'll never find you.