Mother knows best…

At the start of the adoption process we were very keen to take all the help and advice we could. We were aware that a lot of people are experts in this area, and we are not. We attended a lot of training courses and tried to absorb as much wisdom as possible.

Even after our boys arrived, we would ring or email our social worker often to ask advice and check in. It felt wrong to make decisions or do ‘parenting’ without permission.

When we were first matched with our boys, we were told that the Family Finder thought we were just the right fit, we were flattered. (We’ve since found out that she’d only met our boys twice at this point, so we’re not sure how she knew that.) Despite concerns that we are Christians, and that we didn’t want to send our children to nursery, their social worker agreed that we were the best parents for them.

When we first met our boys’ social worker, we were keen to glean as much information as possible. She was obviously going to be the expert on our boys(!!!) One questions we asked at that first meeting was who are their favourite superheroes. She confidently told us Hulk and Iron Man. Then we met the foster carers and we started to doubt if the social worker knew our boys that much! The foster carer told us that their favourites were Spiderman and Batman! At this point we had already ordered our introduction toys – Hulk Bear and Iron Bear. Grrrr.

And now, six months in, we are at a very different point in our journey. We have asked for some extra support to help us manage the boys’ anxieties, big feelings and the resulting CPV. For a long time our (agency) social worker has been trying to arrange a meeting with the LA to review the Adoption Support Plan and apply to the Adoption Support Fund.

Suddenly, the same people who picked us as the best parents for these children no longer think we are capable of knowing what they need. It’s our fault because we are too intense and should have sent them to nursery. There isn’t a problem because the foster carer (who didn’t ‘believe’ in attachment issues) never felt there was.

Fortunately, through we our agency we have access to CFAS and were able to have a consultation with a therapist. Just as I was beginning to doubt myself we met with a lovely lady who talked everything through with us and reassured us that we were doing the right things to help our boys, and that we were right to ask for support.2242240802_8aaa5f0845_o.jpg

It was a wonderful meeting for another reason too. It taught me to have confidence in myself as their Mum. I know my boys better than any social worker ever will, I am their Mum. Yes, we need expert advice and input at times, and we are so thankful for our wonderful social worker and all of her help. But there is a certain intuition that comes with the unconditional love of a mother for her child. And no social worker will ever have that.

Image: Flickr user Malay Maniar (2008)

 

So near, yet so far!

Three weeks ago, we attended a Life Appreciation Day. I’m not sure why it’s called that because every time I hear it I think of a funeral. Anyway, this certainly wasn’t a funeral. After being matched with our boys but before going to Matching Panel, the Life Appreciation Day was to give us as much information as possible and fill any gaps so everyone could be absolutely sure they wanted to proceed.

We knew it would be a long and emotional day, and so we traveled the night before and stayed over. We had a lovely dinner out at an all-you-can-eat buffet and then tried to relax, not easy when you’re suddenly in the same town as your children who you’ve never met. The next morning we had an all-you-can-eat (spot the theme!) breakfast at the hotel before setting off for the foster carers (Mike and Marion’s) house.

We knew our boys would be at nursery, but driving down the street was such a strange feeling. I kept looking at things – houses, cars, bins – and thinking, ‘my boys have looked at that too.’ Somehow having that house or car in common just for a second made me feel closer to them.

When we arrived at the foster carers house the boys’ social worker and family finder were already there, but our social worker hadn’t arrived yet. We didn’t really know how it would go, or if there was a structure to the meeting. There didn’t seem to be as everyone just started chatting, mostly about the boys. As soon as our social worker (Kate) arrived we felt a lot safer. She always seems to know what to say!

Mike and Marion are clearly very attached to the boys, they’ve had them for almost two years after all. It was obvious that they were very emotional and this made it hard. It felt like we were taking away their children. They were very professional and kind though, they kept saying things like, ‘it’s all part of the job!’ with a laugh; but it was clearly very hard for them. We could see how loved the boys were from the way they talked about them, and that was a great comfort to us. They kept pointing out things around us – that’s his blanket, he likes that cushion. Everytime they did my tummy went all funny. They boys were becoming more and more real. Then they showed us their bedroom.

At that point it all got too much for me. The feeling of being so close to them, without them being anywhere near was strange. We’ve grown to love these two little boys who we’ve never met. Seeing where they slept, their clothes hanging up, teddies on their bed. It was so happy, and so sad. Happy because we felt close to them. But sad  because we weren’t. I also felt incredibly guilty for taking these two wonderful boys from these two wonderful foster carers. Marion gave me a big hug. Although I don’t know them, I do love them, because they have loved my boys, and my boys have loved them. They’re part of my family’s story. And knowing that my boys have been in that hug too was wonderful. When we came downstairs, all the social workers were sat with diaries out discussing Introductions. My head started spinning, it was all becoming very real. Fortunately Mike and Marion wanted to show us the garden and so we quickly left the room again!

3450585089_7f017e8be6_o.jpgAfter leaving the foster carers, we went to (you guessed it!) an all-you-can-eat carvery pub to meet the adoptive parents (Gary and Joan) of our boys’ half brother (Josh). We were nervous about this too. Part of the adoption arrangements is that we will have direct contact with Josh at least once a year, as well as sending Christmas/birthday presents. By adopting our boys, we’re also gaining a sort of extended family, so we wanted this first meeting to go well!

It did, they were absolutely lovely. They are completely in love with their son and that was lovely to see. As they had fostered Josh while our boys were with Mike and Marion (sorry, hope you can keep up!) they knew the birth family well from contacts. It was really helpful to be able to get more information, especially from people who are adopting a child from the same home as we are. We were disappointed to hear last week that we probably won’t be meeting with birth mother; but we are glad we will always have Gary and Joan to fill in gaps. As the boys get older I hope they will see Mike and Marion as an uncle and aunt, and that they’ll be able to chat to them about their birth family.

After this meeting, we headed for the boys’ nursery. Only Kate was coming with us as the boys’ workers had other appointments. She went ahead in her car and we arrived a minute or two behind so headed in to find her. As we walked up the path, I had the same feeling as in the boys’ bedroom. I looked around greedily, trying to drink in all the things they must have looked at too. I noticed a little blonde head that reminded me of our youngest boy. I imagined it was him playing at nursery. Then my husband nudged me and whispered, ‘don’t freak out, but I think they’re here.’

Somehow the boys were at nursery when we were due to go. We’re still not sure how it happened, but we’re so glad it did! People keep asking me how it felt to see them, and I just don’t know. My first reaction was to turn around and run away. I felt like I’d give it all away if they saw me, or that we’d get into trouble. Fortunately my husband was behind me so I couldn’t, and we kept walking towards the door. I tried not to look at the boys, it felt like I wasn’t allowed to! But I couldn’t help myself, especially as our youngest had stopped scootering and was staring right at us as if he knew! My head was spinning, my ears were ringing, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I’m not sure how we got inside, but we did. And as soon as we did I burst into tears. I was so confused how that had just happened, and so overwhelmed. Kate apologised and checked we were OK, then she let us sneak around a corner where we could watch them playing for a few minutes! They were the most wonderful few minutes. Somehow, we stopped looking and composed ourselves. We still had to sit through a meeting with the boys’ key workers.

My head was still spinning, and sitting at a tiny table on tiny chairs drinking water out of pink, plastic wine glasses didn’t help the situation – it all felt a bit Alice in Wonderland! Fortunately Kate asked lots of questions while I mostly sat stunned. To be honest, I can’t really remember what we talked about, but we took photos with the key workers so we could tell the boys this story one day!

Finally, we drove to the hospital to meet the doctor who has done regular medical checks on the boys since entering care. she was another lovely person, and so helpful! She explained a lot of things very thoroughly, but in a way we could understand. One of the boys may need a simple procedure, and the decision was due to be made the week of introductions, so she was able to advise us on this. We were so grateful to have this meeting, it was really valuable. But it was also the end of a very strange day, and my husband kept dropping off! As we were saying goodbye, she told us she would be on the Matching Panel! I asked her if she would please say yes, and she said OK! That made me feel a lot better!

Well, that was a long post about a long day. We came home feeling more sure that these were our children, and with their faces in the playground etched on our hearts.

N.B. I have changed everybody’s names!
Image: Jeremy Brooks (2009)

One year on…

Well, a year and a day ago was a very special day. That was the day we first met our social worker and our adoption journey officially began with Adoption Matters. A year and a day later (today) we met with another social worker and a family finder to discuss two children who will probably very soon be our children.

What a year!

At times it has been frustrating, exciting, exhausting, mostly all at the same time. Looking back I can see that the process has helped to prepare us for what is to come in lots of deliberate and undeliberate ways. Here are three big things I’ve learnt:

919395814_b86b34dee2_o.jpgFirstly we’ve had to practice patience. I am not a patient person, I hate having to wait for anything (especially Christmas). But the nature of the adoption process involves a lot of waiting – waiting for forms to process, waiting for appointments, waiting for letters, emails, phone calls, waiting for social workers to come home from (well deserved) holidays. There is a lot of waiting for other people to do things. Often it can be frustrating because to you, your case is the only thing that matters; but for a social worker, they must balance several cases, while making decisions based on experience and knowledge instead of emotion. Learning to let go and not need to be in control of everything will help us in the chaos of parenthood. Learning to be patient while people do things at a different pace than you would like will help us step back and allow our children to grow. Learning to trust God’s timing and plan will help us parent with joy instead of anxiety, knowing there is a loving heavenly Father in control.

Secondly we’ve developed persistence. We’ve heard stories of people who gave up on adoption because the process was too hard. Often people remark how this is a shame, but I’m not sure it is. Parenting will not be easy. It will certainly not be easier than the journey to get there! But I do believe that if it is something you really want and are committed to, you can get through much more than you know to get there. We’ve stuck at it because we want to be parents. And once we are, we will not be giving up, despite the challenges that will come. I think in this past year we have learnt that it is easier to give up, but not as rewarding. We’ve learnt that if something is worth having, it’s worth hurting for. We’ve learnt that a parent will sacrifice and suffer to protect their child, just as our heavenly Father gave His own Son to make us His children.

Thirdly, this year has been a great time to work on relationships. First and foremost our relationship with each other is stronger. We’ve been through quite a journey together this year and we are closer because of it. We’ve learnt to lean on and support one another; to talk more honestly about our feelings, our weaknesses and our fears; and to care for one another better. We’ve also begun to discover the importance of relationships with others. Before this year we had kept our struggle with childlessness quite private. But this year we’ve been able to open up and draw strength from the wonderful family and friends around us, growing relationships that we will no doubt need more as we become parents.

We are very thankful to God for this year of waiting, of trusting and of growing. We know that he has been preparing us for the wonderful job of being parents. We know He has been guarding our children, and preparing them to join our family too.

Most of all, we look forward to what this next year will bring!

Image: mat_n (2007)

Let your yes be yes…

lmI’ve struggled to know what to write over the last few weeks, hence the Blog Silence. Since being approved we have been on a complete emotional rollercoaster. Looking at profiles on the website Link Maker was both exciting and upsetting. Every profile we looked at we wondered if they might be our children. And yet as we looked at more and more we began to despair at how many children were looking for forever families, and how on earth we would ever find ours. We are constantly aware that the fact that we have the privilege of adopting means that there is something very wrong with the world. And as we read profiles, phrases jump out like ‘non-accidental injury’, ‘inconsistent care’ and ‘used drugs and alcohol daily during pregnancy’ that make your blood run cold.

But as we looked over profiles and discussed whether or not we could offer the home those children deserved, it all became a lot more real. During the approval process we often talked about ‘our children’. We talked about taking them to school, playing Lego, sleepless nights, pretty dresses. We talked about everything, because we had no idea what to expect. Boys, girls, black, white, babies, toddlers, children, twins, big age gaps. We had no idea. And so we talked, and we imagined, and we dreamed about them all. Our criteria was two siblings under 5. That didn’t limit it too much!

Last week we had a phone call from our social worker to say a family finder had identified us as a good match for two siblings under 5. She quickly sent over their CPRs (Child Permanence Reports) and we read all 100+ pages. As we did we got more and more excited. We thought it was a good match too! We decided that we’d like to go ahead with this profile and suddenly we had an appointment to meet the children’s social worker and  dates for matching panel were being batted around! Like I said, emotional rollercoaster.

Anyway, on Friday our social worker, their social worker and family finder are all arriving at our house to discuss the match further and decide whether or not to proceed. We are unbelievably excited, we talk about ‘our children’ all the time. Only now they have names, and faces. They are specific ages and genders. They have particular likes and needs. They are real children. And now the dreaming and imagining is so much more exciting, scary, and in a way, sad. Because when we said yes to this profile, in effect we said no to all the others. We said, we want to commit to these two children for the rest of our lives, to love them, nurture them and sacrifice for them. But that means we’re saying no to all those other children we talked about and imagined.

Now, that’s not to say at all that we aren’t happy with how things are proceeding so far. We are unbelievably excited and we really hope that they will still like us on Friday! It’s just that all of the feelings that come with this process have taken me somewhat by surprise. And I’ve realised that the nature of saying ‘yes’ to one, means you are saying ‘no’ to everyone else, a little bit like marriage.

And that makes the ‘yes’ all the more special.

Whether this match is The Match, or it is another profile we’ve not even seen yet, I can’t wait to meet them, and to say ‘Yes, we want you. Yes, we love you. Yes, you are ours.’

 

Paper Pregnant?!

I do not like this phrase. I’ve read lots of objections, and none of them are the reason I don’t like it. I just don’t. If we have to have a label, I’d prefer ‘expecting’ or ‘parents in waiting’! But recently I have started to feel pregnant. Not paper pregnant, but actually physically pregnant. (Don’t panic, I’m not.)

We were approved as adopters earlier this month, and then on Friday we met with our social worker for the first time to discuss the next stage. She had already been working very hard to find us matches and showed us several profiles of children whom she was ‘pursuing’ on our behalf. It was a very exciting and stressful meeting. Exciting because we may have seen the faces of our children for the first time. Stressful because we don’t know! There was one profile in particular that we can’t stop talking about, and are praying might be the children God has chosen for us.oblivion16

Since Friday I have been overwhelmed with excitement and nerves at the same time. Years ago I went to Alton Towers and there was a rollercoaster called Oblivion. At the start you get to the very edge of a vertical drop and the car stops, you are left hanging over the edge for no longer than a couple of seconds before the car drops into ‘oblivion’. Those couple of seconds feel like hours, you hold your breath and brace yourself for what’s coming.

I feel like we’re hanging over that edge at the moment.

But when we have massive feelings in our hearts/heads, our bodies are affected too. And the effects of the excitement/nerves looks more and more like pregnancy! I’ve found myself needing to rush for a wee more and more, I think because my body is so tense. I find these big feelings sometimes leak out of my body in tears, so I seem to spontaneously cry for no reason. Sometimes I feel so nervous and excited I think I might be sick. I’m physically tired, not from growing a human but because I can’t switch off my brain at night to get enough sleep. I’m eating more to try and feed the butterflies in my tummy which often feel like hunger, and so now I’m starting to look pregnant as I grow my tummy with cake!

The difference is we don’t have a due date. I don’t know if this will last for weeks or months or years!

And just because my children aren’t physically in my tummy doesn’t mean I don’t carry them everywhere with me. They are constantly in my thoughts and my heart as I love them more each day without having met them.

There isn’t a word I like to describe what’s happening, and I hope and pray that it doesn’t last long enough for someone to come up with one!

In the meantime we are praying that God will be preparing us and our children to be a family; that He will help us to trust Him and His plan more each day and that we manage to get some sleep before they arrive!

APPROVED!

Yesterday we went to panel. It was scary. A roomful of strangers read every detail of our lives and then sat and talked about us. We were invited in for a few minutes to be scrutinised before sent back outside to wait while they decided whether or not we were allowed to be parents. I would like to say it was actually quite fun, but it wasn’t. Or that it wasn’t as bad as I expected, but it was.

We planned to set off really early and have time to compose ourselves in a nearby Costa. Instead we drove around for a long time looking for somewhere to park, and then we walked around for a long time looking for the door! It was quite a helpful distraction, however, from where we were actually going. When we arrived we were shown to a room where we could wait. From there we could see our Stage 1 Social Worker at her desk; we were brought a cup of tea by the Social Worker who ran our prep group; and then The Lady who came to our house right at the start to fill in paperwork came to sit with us and distract us. It was nice to see all of these key people again at, what felt like, The End Of All Things.

After forever, our Social Worker came in with The Chair. It was a relief to see SW who we knew had been in with the panel fighting our corner. I suppose it was a big day for her too, she was recommending us to the panel and that is a big responsibility. The Chair introduced herself – she seemed friendly – and then made small talk for a while. I think it was to help us feel at ease, but it just felt like a test!

When we were left alone with SW, she told us that the panel were feeling really positive about us so far and that they’d struggled to think of questions to ask us, which I suppose means she’d done her job well and written a thorough report. She said their main concerns had been around my history of Anxiety, and our age – did we understand the enormity of what we were doing?  I quickly mentally deleted any jokes I could possibly be tempted to make. I don’t think she stopped smiling the whole time we chatted, I’m not sure if it was her nerves, or an attempt to relieve ours. Either way, it was comforting to be chatting with her. The questions they wanted to ask us were:

  1. How would we cope with the stress of parenting two children?
  2. How had we come to choose our criteria?
  3. What were we looking forward to about being parents?

As we read them I was sure I wouldn’t be able to say a single word, and so my husband jotted down notes as SW reminded us of all of the things we’d previously said that would be helpful. My mind was completely blank.

Then The Chair came back and we were led through windy corridors, outside, back inside, and finally to The Room. The Panel did their best to put us at ease, they offered us water and introduced themselves, which gave us time to adjust to the new environment. The Panel were a mix of social workers, adoptive parents, adopted adults and a doctor. I instantly identified the most intimidating panel member (The Doctor) and did my best to make eye contact with him the most.

As they asked each question my husband would start answering from the notes we’d made; and as he tailed off I would add anything that he’d missed, or that I suddenly thought of. I found that the chance to fight for our right to be parents meant I could speak after all. I tried to talk honestly, without being over the top. To say what I thought they wanted to hear, without sounding like I was. I wanted to shake each one of them by the shoulders and somehow make them realise the enormity of what they were doing.

I don’t know if it’s normal, but it felt like they laughed a lot, that was reassuring. At one point The Doctor commented on my ironing and I thought he was being sarcastic so mumbled a long defence about how my husband had actually ironed his own shirt and I’d told him it wasn’t OK to wear, on and on I rambled. Anyway, apparently he was trying to be nice.

Finally it was over! We were taken out of the room and The Lady sat with us again to offer distraction. Eventually SW came out and straight away said it was good news! I’m not sure what reaction she normally gets, but we just sat stunned. I didn’t quite understand what she was saying, or what it meant. We are actually going to be parents. A roomful of strangers trust us enough to give us children. SW said one of the panel members had said she’d like to live with us herself. Slightly weird, but a compliment I’m sure.

IMG_20160705_212538900.jpgAs we were leaving, still in shock, SW gave us a big hug and told us she’d be in touch soon. And that was it. As we walked out of the building it felt like we had a big rubber stamp across our foreheads: APPROVED. We wandered around the shopping centre for a while, every so often I lost the ability to walk and we’d just stand for a few seconds as the realisation washed over us. We tried calling each other Mum and Dad – my husband tried Mother but it just reminded me of the film Psycho. After a coffee in Costa and a quick ring around our family, it seemed the only thing to be done now was Nando’s.

Panel Day was a scary day, a special day. I’m thankful that so many people care about the wellbeing of our children to put us through that. I’m thankful that our SW believes enough in us to stand up for us. Most of all, I’m thankful that it’s over.

How will we know?

In 11 days we go to panel to be (hopefully) approved as adoptive parents. Then comes the matching process. Our Social Worker seems confident that we will have profiles to look at straight away because our criteria is fairly open. Throughout the process we’ve tried not to think past panel day, we really wanted to take it one step at a time and not get ahead of ourselves. In fact, as someone who gets excited about Christmas in January, I have been incredibly self-controlled!

However, there is now very little to distract ourselves with, no forms or meetings or training days, and so inevitably our thoughts and conversation have turned to post July 5th. Aside from wondering when our children will finally be home, and desperately hoping they’ll be here for Christmas, our biggest question has really become ‘how will we know?’

DSCF4869We are very confident in our Social Worker, she knows us really well, she has so far worked really hard on our behalf, and she is genuinely concerned with the best interests of the children looking for families. And so when she starts to bring us profiles to look at, we’re confident that all of them will be sensible, good matches for us. And so now we’re wondering ‘how will we know?!’ And if all of them will be good, sensible matches, what would make us say no to the first one we see?

Should we be waiting for a fuzzy feeling? Or holding out for a child with less ‘issues’? Should we narrow our criteria? Should we look for profiles with cute photos?! How on earth will we know?!!!

When we were looking to ‘adopt’ our cats I looked at loads of websites with photos and descriptions. Both times I knew as soon as I saw the cats that we ended up adopting, and then did everything I could to make them ours.

Adopting children is quite a lot more complex and serious than adopting cats. I don’t think we can operate the same method.

When our Social Worker asked how we’d like to go about the matching process, we said we’d like her to do all of the searching, and bring us the profiles she thought were good matches. We knew if we started looking ourselves we’d fall in love with every face we saw, and we’d talk ourselves out of our original criteria that was decided with very sensible reason. We didn’t want to risk getting attached to photos of lots of other people’s children, and we didn’t want to risk pursuing matches that would ultimately not be approved because they weren’t at all sensible.

And so if we are only going to see profiles of children that fit our criteria, and that have been selected by a professional who knows us well, understands the system and cares for the children, why would we say no?

If you’ve adopted, I’d love to know your thoughts. How did you go about the matching process? How did you finally know? Or maybe you’re in the matching process now, has it been what you expected? Please leave a comment!

 

 

This is your life…

Last week we received our Prospective Adopters Report (PAR). A 21 page long document about us and our abilities to parent. It made for very strange reading.

Young, vibrant couple in their mid twenties.

Our social worker did a great job. I would definitely give us children! Hours and hours of interviews meant she could give really detailed accounts of our lives and significant experiences. She included anecdotal stories that make us seem like real people to someone who’s never met us. She made observations about us as a couple that we were oblivious to, like how we interact together.

DSCF4832.jpgAnd yet it made for uncomfortable reading too. Very personal memories are suddenly written in black and white and handed over to strangers. I felt comforted that the document she emailed to us was password protected. Not because it contains secrets, or because I’m worried who might want to steal it. But somehow it felt respectful.

Since our assessment interviews finished and we didn’t have any more homework, I’ve naturally started worrying about panel. I bought myself a new dress (actually 3) to wear on the day to give me confidence. However now I’m wondering if I’ve wasted my money. Sitting in a room full of strangers who have all read this document, I’m pretty sure I’m going to feel completely naked.

White British, heterosexual, able bodied, Christians.

And as always it comes back to the fact that a room of complete strangers get to decide whether or not I can be a mum. They will know my medical history, how I got on at primary school, how my husband proposed. What they won’t know is how long we have longed for our children. How much we already love them. The way our hearts break when we pray for their safety. It doesn’t feel fair that these strangers get to make such a massive decision. That we have to be prodded and poked and investigated inside out. But this is how our children will come home to us. and so we trust and we wait.

We are thankful for our social worker and the hard work she’s put in, as well as the PAR she’s written. We’re thankful that there are procedures in place to protect our children, and that that room of strangers are there because they want the best for our children. We’re thankful for a God who is in control, who has a plan and who loves us.

Our wonderful social worker (and the cake she never ate)

After a confusing rejection from our local council, we contacted Home for Good (a Christian charity that promotes adoption and fostering) to find out what next. They pointed us in the direction of Adoption Matters (our adoption agency) who straightaway arranged to have a social worker come and visit us in our home. We were so nervous! We’d had a home inspection when we adopted our second cat from Cats Protection, and that was bad enough!

We cleaned the house from top to bottom, we considered in great depth the placement of every cushion, every photo frame, every coaster. We told ourselves our story over and over to make it sound as good as possible. We meticulously planned who would open the door, who would sit where, who would make the tea. We baked the cake. It was the most carefully baked Victoria sponge in all of history. I made the blueberry jam from scratch that sandwiched it together and then we displayed it on my beautiful cake stand on the kitchen worktop.

SCake.jpghortly before she arrived, I started to worry it looked like we were trying too hard. Should we just hide it and give her biscuits? Eventually we decided the best thing would be to eat some of the cake. Then she could still be impressed by my marvellous baking, but wouldn’t know we’d baked it just for her! She’d think we were the sort of family who have fresh, home baking casually!

Well when she arrived I was completely knocked off guard – she was nice! She seemed to really want to help, to really get to know us. It didn’t feel at all like we were being judged or tested, she didn’t mind the cats trying to get into her bag. And she was so young! Now, I watched Tracy Beaker as a child so I thought I knew what to expect, but this was not it!

Then came the big moment, “would you like some cake?” And then, so simply, so casually, my last wall of defence, my last big pretence came crashing down with three words, “no thank you!”

Well, apart from feeling a little bit devastated, somehow my need to put on a Desperate Housewives type performance left.

I realised it was OK to just be ourselves.

Throughout the process, our social worker has worked so hard to get to know us, how we think and feel. And then to use that to help us be the best parents we can. We’ve never felt like she’s trying to trick us or trap us. It genuinely feels like she wants us to succeed! This has really helped us to be open, which means we’ve learnt more about ourselves and each other and have been able to really think through how we can be a more effective team.

I always thought that once we were approved we would sign up to all of the magazines and websites and trawl through profiles until we found our children. Now, after months spent with our social worker I feel so differently. I trust that she wants the best for us, and for our children. I am confident that she is very competent at her job and knows much better than us. I know she has worked and will keep working really hard because she believes in what she does. And so we trust our social worker completely to find our children for us, and this, I think is one of the best compliments we could give her. We thank God every time we think of our wonderful social worker.

Even if she didn’t eat the cake.