Aim

There’s literally too much to say, so forgive me if I don’t.

But reading the Tavistock Institute’s journal on the early benefits of the Adoption Support Fund asking if it was sustainable I was left with the same old questions. Cycling along this morning the same question about adoption support services rattled round my head:

“Do we aim for what is realistic or we realistically aim for what is impossible?” 

I guess on one level it’s all academic, I’ve limited influence and am just one voice and if we’re honest not a particularly radical voice. But as a community what can we do? The plain reality is that adoption support at best is ok, but that’s not the experience of many and all evidence is that at least a third of adopters are struggling, really struggling. If you’re reading this are you struggling are you being helped, who do you call tonight and what could they do? 

Well, that’s all kinds of complicated isn’t it. These are my children, I took them on with open eyes, I expected to do what other parents do and I am. But, that’s where it does get murky, I’m struggling and the struggle is hard and I need help, but that’s what all parents and families do isn’t it? It wasn’t my plan that’s for sure, but that’s every parent of a vulnerable child’s story. See, complicated.

Played into my thinking I’ve been meeting with a group of parents and carers who’s children are violent, aggressive, challenging, complex and much loved. The link is the children and all kinds of family make ups are in the group, mainly biological parents. It’s broken my heart to be honest and one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done for a whole load of reasons, mainly the total void of support for them. The hero narrative that I’ve railed against and the patchy adoption support that I’ve blogged about for years would be snapped up by many of the families. We gripe but we’ve got a very different story to tell. Many adopters do have a hard time but we’ve always got our stories that often open doors that other families can’t open. So, with that in mind I read the Tavistock Institute’s report and I feel conflicted.  

We need more support as families that have adopted but what is realistic and fair in this economic climate? Do we fight hammer and nail for more or pragmatically step back and let others step ahead. 

Is that thought a pragmatic failure? Is that compromise? Yes. 

Every politician wants to be photo’d with an newly minted adoptive family, the gold dust settles on them. Do we dance to their tune, smile and doff our caps and take what is realistic or do we shout louder and louder for what is best at the risk of pushing them too far away? There are so many issues that are important and my inbox is not a stranger to important issues for adoptees and adopters, issues that people want to shout from the rooftops and bring campaigning weigh to bear against. But do we aim for what is realistic, push for the ideal or dance through some middle ground. 

Perhaps I’m tired. Adoption issues are often the very same issues of a silent and hidden majority. Our struggles with social care, schools, health and CAMHs and violent and aggressive behaviour are replicated across many more families that have no voice. 

So, perhaps we do need to shout louder, perhaps we need to be a little cleverer.

“Do we aim for what is realistic or we realistically aim for what is impossible?” 

A Guest Blog: Sibling Contact

By an anonymous adopter

I need to get this out of my system, but I am doing it anonymously, as there are so many risks involved with sharing this, but so much information that may help others in the community.

We have been a family brought together by adoption for over 10 years. There are a few of us in the family, however, it always struck me that given we read our children’s CPRs and all the other information we receive, if we are lucky enough to receive it all, there are extended family who naturally become our family.

My children’s siblings are always a part of my life, they are family too.

Over the weekend we were lucky enough, after three years of trying, to meet the now adult siblings of our children. A surprise message out of the blue 3 years ago instigated this meeting. It has taken us all this length of time to be able to feel able to do it. Our children were not involved. You may think that cruel, but right now they are not read for it, and they may never be.

We met in a train station coffee shop – we felt that it needed to be somewhere that we could all feel as comfortable as possible in – as we all knew that the anxiety for us all would be immense.

I hugged sister – I was not sure how it would go, but she hugged me back. I got emotional but kept it together.

We bought coffees and we began to chat. There were no awkward moments…. It flowed.

Our first lesson: We knew all about them…. They knew nothing about us – NOTHING. They lived for the first few years not knowing what had happened to their siblings. No one had told them they had been placed for adoption. Youngest was removed from a holiday he was on – and that was the last she saw of him.

Our second lesson: Appreciation that they had been adopted. Despite the first few years of their not knowing, they have learnt enough about our children to know that they have been well looked after, and cared for, attempting to repair the damage that they have all experienced. They acknowledged that the trauma will have been more intense for our children as they had differing placements and the worst experience of our care system you can imagine.

Our third lesson: If only we knew then what we knew now… Yes, contact is a scary thing…. And it would have needed careful planning, facilitating and reviewing… but had I known that these siblings sat not knowing, not knowing where they were, who they were with, were we monsters, were we cruel, did we love them – that could have been easily remedied.

Their first lesson: Their siblings have been loved and cared for… to see the relief on their faces was worth every single minute of over ten years.

Their second lesson: Their siblings have very similar issues with attachment, trust, anger to them.

Their third lesson: Never assume adoption is always a bad thing. Family and friends had been rather critical of adoption….. as you would expect, and that was the siblings impression as a result. They see the difference it has made.

I did cry… I felt so patronising and insulting to these two brave souls in front of me, who had been through just as much in their childhood as my children – and I was the one crying. To be told that they are grateful that their siblings have such fantastic parents blew me away. I sniffed, sister held my hand, and I gave myself a good talking to – this was not about me.

We spent three hours together, and we have so much in common. We will meet them again, and that was a mutual decision by us all. We feel they are more a part of our family now than ever.

Their decision to share what their message will be when they do all eventually meet was upsetting, and I leave you with some of it:

“If you are expecting to meet our parents and for them to be the parents you hope for, then don’t – you will be very very disappointed.”

Thank you for reading.

Trauma

I just want to run into the street and shake my fist at the sky, I want to go totally 'Fawlty Dad' and thrash the ground with the branch of a tree.

Why?

Because Trauma wins.

It stains everything it touches and seeps out of the shadows of children's lives and with insidious determination casts shadows over mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters and anyone close enough to touch. It feels personal but it's indiscriminate, it chokes love and care, crushes hope and joy. It blinds, deceives, draws you in and asks you to dance to it's tune, it camouflages itself and deflects the blame onto everyone close.

Four weeks ago the historic trauma rose up and cut through us all like a scythe.

Our family, friends, colleagues, faith and professionals caught us. They held us when we couldn't stand, they gave us the worlds to say when we didn't know what to say, friends and acquaintances stepped in and stepped up. I've never felt so cared for in my life. So, thank you for your kind words and wise words shoulders to cry on and ears to listen. There are too many to thank but thank you anyway.

Trauma has not won this battle.

Trauma remains a feature of our home but because of  those who closed around us we are still here, so thank you.

Respite

It's with much intrigue I've watched the debate about the professionalisation/unionisation of Foster carers unfold. Articles, news items and twitter scraps have ensued and such is the nature of the argument I'm having with Queenie it's been moved to the list of topics that we must never speak of again.

I'm intrigued by the binary nature of the conversations, locked into positions that are poles apart. I've listened to adult care leavers passionately describing the impact of issues like respite had on them as  children and young people, then foster carers giving accounts of the systemic challenges they face as they try to care for young people. 

I was rather amused listening to a rather bullish man on the radio who was being assessed as a foster carer denounce any carer who didn’t do it for purely altruistic motivations. He went on to refuse to accept better pay and conditions for FCs. I chastised myself as I thought ‘yeah, come back on the radio a year after you’ve been approved and we’ll see what you say’. I can be quite harsh when I’m in the car alone listening to the radio.

This issue of unionising foster care has been floating around and the one point that has piqued my interest is that of respite.

Basically, listening to the debate their appears to be only two positions, the first being that respite is good for carers and respite is very bad for children.

The other says that foster carers are not parents plus, they often care for the most challenging of children in the most challenging of circumstances. I quote lived and professional experience here.
One that says in the best interests of the child they should have stability and consistency of home and carer, I quote research and best practice here.

Are the two positions ever able to be reconciled? Is it an oversimplification to even state them like this.

I know many foster families and carers that go above and beyond, way beyond and put their own physical and mental health on the line in the care of ‘their’ children. They prioritise the needs of these children again and again and when they ask me for two nights off or a week away to recharge or a special occasion then I will not stand in their way or begrudge them some time away. They go out of their way to ensure the welfare of the children during this break and do everything in their powers to ensure that any potential harm is minimised.

Of course, there are bad examples but from my experience they are the minority.

As a parent I seek respite, of course that’s not what I’d call it. But every year the Good MrsC take at least a night and day away and we do all the stuff to ensure that it’s a positive and enjoyable experience for our children staying at home. In fact we’ve just come home from a holiday for four, MrsC, me and two children. We left four children behind, most of them because they’re young adults and they’re living their lives. But not all of them, some of them just don’t fare well out of routine in different countries with different food etc.

I mean really don’t fare well in an apocalyptic, days of freefall dysregulation, furniture biting kind of way.

So, what do you do? Do we live to the lowest common denominator? Well we don’t.

We reframe, explain, contain and get my big girl and mam to come along and replicate the safe standard routine with a few perks, the child left behind is pampered and enjoys free reign with the remote and being treat like an only child. And we get to play nice like those families we see on the telly, spontaneous stay up late, throw away routine sort of fun.

Is that not selective respite, it’s not what I’d call it but that’s what it is. My children don’t see it as a rejection or slur but as a fact of their lives that sometimes their needs have to be put aside to allow us to have time together. It’s not easy and it’s arranged to the nth degree. We bring in trusted and safe people, we make it a positive.

Fostering isn’t ‘standard’ parenting, the expectations and scrutiny that Foster Carers are put under adds pressure; the unique systems and requirement of fostering add pressure; the impacts of loss, separation and trauma adds pressure. 

The articles I read didn’t seem to acknowledge this and as heartfelt as some of the arguments against respite were they didn’t highlight the high needs that some children have and the high toll that it exacts. Speaking to a good friend this week, a foster carer and Social Worker, he explained the model they use. They build a 'family' around the children they care for, a community of adults and families that welcome their fostered children for babysitting and respite. It sound like family, like community like what almost every parent does because it is a family. There are innovative models of fostering that build these families around children because the cliche is true it takes a village to raise a child and as Helen Oakwater adds 'it takes a city to raise a traumatised child'.