No Mascara Needed

I'm feeling nervous! 

Our two days of adoption course training are nearly upon us, and I'm feeling nervous. Anxious. On edge. 

Not because I don't know what to expect; I do, largely. Although presumably some of the content will have changed since last time we attended the same course, I imagine that a lot of it will be similar. And that's what worrying me. 

Last time, I found the two day course full-on, intense, and a lot to take in. They bombard you with quite a lot of information, which you try to absorb while also sussing out the other attendees and trying to make the most of the chance to make friends with others who are potentially in a similar situation as you. 

The course covers lots of things, and a particularly impactful element for me was the part that focussed on birth parents, and reasons for children going into care. You look at the reasons children may be removed, and the way the process works. It's to build empathy, to make sure adopters feel for those whose children are taken away from them. This element of the course, its very inclusion in the course materials, is absolutely right and it's good and it's heartbreaking and it's bittersweet. 

And now I've got to face it again, but this time from the point of view not as a newcomer, with no point of reference, but as a mummy with a son who was taken away from another mummy. As a mummy with a son whose life could have been so different. When the course leaders talk about the reasons children are removed from the birth families, how will I not be thinking of Bounce, and his vulnerable start? When they talk about the issues and difficulties faced by birth parents, how do I not think about Bounce's birth parents, and what they mean to him and what they were to him? 

We knew at the outset of this second journey that it would be emotional - because it's beautiful, and exciting, and difficult, and life-changing, yes - but also because it's closer to home now, in a new, different sense. It's a reminder of things that, rightly or wrongly, you forget about in the day to day busyness of mummy-ing and life-ing. It's a reminder of, 'Oh, yeh - Bounce is adopted....his life could have looked so different...I wonder what he would be like if...' aaaand let the sobbing commence. 

So. I will cry. I will not wear mascara. I will take tissues. I will cry, maybe a lot. And that's okay. A deep breath, a quick prayer, a glance at my phone to see Bounce's happy, safe, gorgeous face, a squeeze of Hubby's hand, a nose-blow, and I'll be okay. 

Getting Going...(but not too quickly, please)

It feels, now, like things are really Getting Going. 

We first met with our (now) social worker in the middle of February 2018 (back when we all thought that winter was on its way out...and yet really it has only just left, literally yesterday), and we now have a panel date booked in for July. As second-time adopters, we are able to fast-track to the second stage of the approval process, which means that while we still have to complete the paperwork and checks of Stage One, we are able to do those whilst getting stuck in straight away with the meaty bit -  the home visits and PAR (Prospective Adopter Report) writing of Stage Two. So we've had a few meetings with our social worker, and have so far gone into detail about our family of origin, home and work life, support networks (inexplicably called 'eco-maps'), finances, and employment history (amongst other things).

We were pleased to learn that we were able to fast-track: once you've adopted, there's a lot about the technicalities of the process itself that you don't need to revisit. We know what panel is like and how it works, we understand about things like different options for contact with birth parents. And so being able to get through the process quicker is not a bad thing (even though the process itself really isn't a long affair; our first adoption went from initial registration of interest to Bounce moving in in twelve months). 

But. 

Rewriting our PAR (15,000 words last time)? Fortnightly meetings in our home with our social worker so that she can get to know us? Health and safety checks? All get a big tick from me. Some friends have asked why we have to go through it all again - isn't that just pointless, frustrating: we know what we're doing don't we?? -  which I suppose the two of us probably wondered back at the start. But now, I just feel grateful for this time. For this chance to delve back into our childhoods, to chat about our marriage, to look tentatively into the experiences that have led us back to this point again, a chance to reflect on how our lives have changed since Bounce moved in, and a chance to talk together about what we've learnt and loved and loathed. I'm grateful for this time to pause and savour life as a family of three. 

And really, would I want it to happen any quicker? If things go to plan, we'll go from initial contact to being approved to adopt in five months. And then the waiting for a match begins; last time it was four months. I saw a post thingy the other day about how 'backwards' humans are because our pregnancies last a staggering nine months, but actually I think that's just really, really good. Imagine if you went from no baby to baby just like that - in a week or something. Terrifying! And so that's how I feel: bursting with excitement at times, but also just so, so relieved to have this time to adjust, to get used to the idea of how things might change, to help prepare my heart and my home and little Bounce. 

You may want to remind me of this later in the year.... 😉

Adopting Again

Hello to anyone reading this! At the moment that's just me, but that's fine. I don't mind talking to myself.

So...we're adopting again.

When we adopted our son Bounce a few years ago, one of the things I...regret is too strong a word...one of the things I wish I'd done is to write more during the process: write about the highs and lows, the swinging emotions, the excitement building, the suspense while waiting, and the intensity of the process as a whole. And now - we're doing it all again! So this time, I'm chronicling it. On here, because it's easier and more convenient to type than write, and because this way I'll keep at it. Plus, it might be a good way to connect with other adopters which would be great!

I've decided to keep this blog anonymous for now, partly for my own privacy because we've not told everyone yet that we're adopting again, and partly for Bounce's privacy, and partly to avoid any complications with confidentiality for the new adoption. So I'm having to get creative and think of code names for my husband and my son! I'll reveal (drumroll please) that we live in England, we're both in our 30s, and Bounce is three years old.

And for now, I'll close with memories of Bounce playing sweetly with his baby cousin earlier on today...Aaaand the excitement brews 😌