Am I pro-Adoption?

I’m not sure. 

I’m really not sure any more. 

It used to be a definite and resounding “Yes!” Adoption – a way of mending what’s been broken, of bringing life and security. A means by which a child can be restored and healed and can start to thrive. A way of sharing the love and safety and wellbeing you have to give. 

But, also: Adoption – a way of tearing apart, of bringing heartache and pain and grief and depression. A way of perpetuating cycles and removing people’s reasons to live and try. For some, actually for lots, adoption is bleak and dark and heartbreaking. 

Sometimes, like when we’re writing our contact letters to birth parents, I choke up about how something that has brought me such joy can also bring someone else such pain. Our adoption of Bounce will never be purely good, it isn’t possible. Adoption can never be a resounding “Yes!” because by its very nature it has sprung from a place of darkness and struggle. It is bittersweet. 

As a Christian I can’t help but think of biblical parallels. God is our heavenly Father. Adoption speaks of the Father heart of God. It is a beautiful image of how God takes our broken, far-from-him, far-from-right lives and nurtures us back to life. It’s about redemption, which I strongly believe God is in the business of – he takes those things that are spoilt, rubbish and lost and somehow, graciously, brings good out of them. He turns water into wine. 

But that imagery isn’t quite all it seems to be. In reality, adoption isn’t beautiful for everyone. Yes I am pleased (not quite the right word) to be able to help Bounce thrive, to show him safety and love and provision in all the right ways, but it’s sad that this has to happen. It isn’t right and it isn’t triumphant. Where God’s adoption of us sings of victory and overcoming, our adoption of Bounce…whispers quietly of loss, regret, pain, hope and love. 

I suppose what I am trying to say is that adoption, in an ideal world, wouldn’t exist. Obviously. But sadly, there is a need. I am glad not to be in a position of making decisions about removing children (removing – how could there not be pain when it’s a word like that?). I am glad, too, to be in a position where we can offer a home, safety, love, provision, and a family to a child who otherwise would be missing out on those things. It’s such a strange conflict in me: I want a baby, I can’t conceive a baby; I want a baby, I’ll adopt a baby. Does this mean I’m glad that Bounce needed adopting? Does this mean I’m currently waiting, subconsciously, for a mother and baby to be forced apart? Does this mean I’m eager for a mum somewhere to not quite reach the grade?

A while back, I read on Twitter a good line: Adoption is important and sad. I totally agree and I often come back to that in my mind. But on reflection I think I would add a note of more hopefulness than that. A slight thawing, like a snowdrop on a sunny day in early February. Adoption speaks of joy, it hints at something good. It’s birthed in pain and heartache, on both sides, but it speaks – just quietly - of longing fulfilled, of the gift of life – good, healthy, protected life, of second chances, of family, and of a chance for something wonderful to happen. 

Debating FFA

When we adopted the first time round, we were interested in FFA (Fostering For Adoption). Having a newborn – or nearly new – was something that appealed to us, which is understandable since that’s what we’d been waiting, hoping, and praying for for four years or so. And it was mentioned on the two day Prepare to Adopt course we went on, so we spoke to our lovely social worker about it. She gave us some more information, told us to think about it, but her overall feeling was that FFA wasn’t for us. I’m glad we came to the same decision as her, and that we were happy to defer to her judgement, because obviously Bounce moved in and the rest is history (well, not quite but you know what I mean. Happy Families ensued.)

Anyway. This time round, in a new local authority, TACT are very pro-FFA, from what we can tell. There was quite a lot about it during the Prepare to Adopt training course, and we were given the impression that, if we wanted to adopt a baby under 9 months, then really our only option is FFA. We felt really unsure about this, as the idea of FFA is still not appealing. 

We were told in no uncertain terms that when a baby comes to you on an FFA basis, that baby takes priority over any existing children. This means that for Bounce, he’d have to take a back seat for an undetermined amount of time – second place to appointments, contact, car journeys, meetings, diary-keeping, milestone-recording, etc. Now don’t get me wrong: I am not of the ‘My Child is My World’ persuasion, however, the thought of him having to take second place – for who knows how long – is a difficult thing to consider. With all the changes that a baby coming would mean for him, we’d want to be able to support him, spend masses of time with him, and keep his routines as normal as possible. And if an FFA baby meant that I wasn’t around to drop him off or pick him up from school, or he had to skip swimming lessons, or he was frequently being left with others while we were busy, that would not be good. I know that any baby moving in – through whatever means – is an upheaval for the whole family, not least any existing children, but to be told, instructed, expected, to put one child above another doesn’t sit well with me. And nor should it sit well with a team of people whose role is to take good care of children in the care system – a box Bounce once ticked. 

I don’t need to go into details about the other elements that we see as drawbacks: the level of unknown is obviously high up there, and is exacerbated this time around as we have Bounce to consider. While I believe it’s rare that FFA placements don’t go on to adoption, it’s an added risk, and a risk that I think personally I would find incredibly hard. Added to that is the uncertainty that comes from having a younger baby. By the time Bounce moved home with us, he was old enough to have had various things ruled out. He’d had tests for this and tests for that, he’d hit milestones and he’d shown his character and his personality. All of those reassurances are missing if you FFA a baby straight from the hospital. And finally, the idea of being so heavily involved in contact – although obviously this is dependent on the situation – is something that to be honest I shy away from. I know that’s not great, but for now that’s how I feel.

Our social worker here assured us of the inaccuracy of our belief that the only way to ‘get’ a baby under 9 months being through FFA, and that it would be better not to rule out FFA completely in case a situation came through that actually ticked all our boxes. So we got approved concurrently as Adopters and as Fosterers, which seems to be the norm here. We tried to make it as clear as possible in our PAR that we were keen for a straight adoption, and that we had concerns with FFA, and would only consider it in exceptional circumstances. 

As I write this, we’ve been waiting for a match for 6 months, which is a little on the long side. I’ve no way of knowing whether this is because we’ve confined our options somewhat, but it feels right for us. I guess it's partly that we feel familiar and comfortable with straight adoption. Obviously we are hoping and praying that the right baby will move in at exactly the right time, and that - most important of all - the "process" will have been positive, supportive and perfectly right for that baby, not necessarily for me.