At this festive family-centred time of year we are even more aware of Peter and Belle's families than usual, as well as the families of previous foster children we've cared for.
Peter's parents and siblings are spending their second Christmas without him. We recently took Peter to an informal contact session where we met up with all of his siblings and the various relatives and carers they live with, plus a smattering of other family members and their partners and children, saw Father Christmas and swapped presents. His siblings have started to ask why they can't all live together, and we know that Peter will be in their minds on Christmas Day, as they will be in ours.
Belle's parents are not only spending their daughter's first Christmas without her, but they have recently found out that the decision has been made for Belle to be adopted. We've never met them but regularly send and receive notes when Belle goes to contact sessions, and of course speak about them often with Belle's social worker. As the months go by and we learn more about their own stories, we start feeling like we know them a little. I can't imagine how they must be feeling now.
I've been thinking about Belle's forever family too and wondering who they are and what they're doing. They don't know it yet, and won't do for several months, but they will be spending their last Christmas without Belle in their family! They haven't even seen a photograph of her, but their tree next year will be decorated with adorable little hand and footprint crafts, they'll be hanging up a stocking with Belle's name on and getting excited about watching her open her presents on Christmas morning.
We're not in touch with Jack-Jack or Andy's forever families but we do think about them regularly, chat about how old they are now and wonder what they look like. Whether or not Belle's parents decide to keep in touch, and whoever we have in our family by that point, we'll definitely be thinking about her next Christmas too and wishing her well.
We've come to realise that fostering families just keep getting bigger!
Friday, 12 December 2014
Sunday, 30 November 2014
Changing fostering agencies
We're thinking about moving house to be nearer to our extended family for support. As foster carers this can be a complicated business! We foster for our local authority, and their rules state that foster carers can live in our home county or any one of the neighbouring counties. This sounds good in principle, however whenever possible children must be placed within easy distance of their birth parents to make regular contact arrangements viable and to enable them to remain at their current school/nursery. In our local authority the majority of looked after children come from one end of the county and the majority of foster carers live at the other end which is already an issue. Would we get any placements if we moved out of county? It's a risk.
If we decide to change fostering agencies there are further complications - do we simply switch to the local authority of our new county or do we choose an independent fostering agency? There are positives and negatives to both, and there can be huge differences in finances, training and support even between two similar agencies.
Then there's the switching process which requires a new assessment and a new "Form F". Sometimes there is a fast tracking option which means we'd be assessed whilst still fostering for our current agency, and would just select a transfer date once approved. Some agencies don't allow this - they require a 6-8 month period without placements whilst the new assessment is completed, which of course would mean no income for us. Some agencies will negotiate foster carers being allowed to "keep" their current foster children when they transfer, and some won't. We've also considered using our experiences with Peter and Belle so far and becoming specialised carers in a disability fostering agency.
Of course we have Peter to consider too. We wouldn't consider him leaving us now so whatever we do the new agency will have to accept that!
If we decide to change fostering agencies there are further complications - do we simply switch to the local authority of our new county or do we choose an independent fostering agency? There are positives and negatives to both, and there can be huge differences in finances, training and support even between two similar agencies.
Then there's the switching process which requires a new assessment and a new "Form F". Sometimes there is a fast tracking option which means we'd be assessed whilst still fostering for our current agency, and would just select a transfer date once approved. Some agencies don't allow this - they require a 6-8 month period without placements whilst the new assessment is completed, which of course would mean no income for us. Some agencies will negotiate foster carers being allowed to "keep" their current foster children when they transfer, and some won't. We've also considered using our experiences with Peter and Belle so far and becoming specialised carers in a disability fostering agency.
Of course we have Peter to consider too. We wouldn't consider him leaving us now so whatever we do the new agency will have to accept that!
Thursday, 6 November 2014
What it's like caring for a pre-adoptive baby
People often get fixated on the "giving them up" part of fostering. They say "how do you do it?", "oh I'd love to foster but I could never give them up", or "you must be a special sort of person to be able to give them up."
We're not special sorts of people and it's definitely not easier for us than it would be for you. This is what it's like:
Imagine that you got a call out of the blue one day saying that a relative you didn't know had passed away, and that her baby girl needed a temporary home. They know you have a spare room and child experience, and wanted to know whether you would take the baby in for a few months whilst they searched for her father. You don't have much time - the baby needs a home today. You say yes and rush around buying nappies and formula and preparing her room. You're excited, it's been a long time since there was a baby in the house. You can't help yourself in the supermarket and buy a couple of adorable little outfits. The baby arrives with her social worker - she's so tiny in her car seat and looks so vulnerable. You sign the paperwork, pick her up and give her a cuddle. She's confused and anxious, and you spend long hours holding and comforting her over the next few weeks whilst you get used to each other and settle into a routine together. One day you realise you love her and you start to imagine her staying forever - you're only human - and picture her first day of school, helping her with her homework, teaching her all the things your mother taught you. You're there for her first milestones - teething, her first steps, her first word, her first birthday. She's part of your family - you're the one she reaches out for, you're the one she smiles for, you're the one she runs to when she's hurt and your children's grandparents dote on her.
You get calls now and then explaining that the search is still going on, and you don't really think about it. Then one day eight months later, her social worker comes to visit. They've found the baby's father. He and his wife were so excited to find out about the baby, they've been through the necessary parenting assessments and are looking forward to taking her home in about a month. She's brought a brightly coloured baby photo album containing photos of Dad, his wife and their home for you to prepare the baby for her move. They've sent a soft toy teddy as a gift for her, and the social worker tells you to put it in the baby's cot for her to get used to her new family's smell ahead of time. She asks for your phone number so that Dad can phone you to find out more information about the baby's routine and personality. You always knew that this was the plan, but you're surprised how shell-shocked you feel now that it's finally happening.
The next evening, Dad calls. He sounds so nervous, but relaxes during the conversation and his tone is gentle and kind. You can hear his wife in the background asking questions, and with your eyes on the sleeping baby you tell him all about his daughter - what makes her laugh, how to settle her at night, what her favourite foods are, the toys she has already and you suggest a couple of things for them to have in their house ready for her arrival. You've never heard someone so excited and you start to relax too - you know that this is the right thing for her and you know that she's going to be loved.
Two weeks later introductions start. The doorbell rings. You pick the baby up and open the door, and for the two people standing on the doorstep time stops for a moment as they meet their child for the first time. She knows their faces from the photo album. "Who's that?" you say, pointing at the man. "Daddy!" she says, and you see his heart melt. By the end of the first visit, she's sitting on his lap, knocking down towers of blocks built by her new mummy who clearly adores her already. They're all laughing, and you take Dad's phone and quickly snap a photo for them. Over the next week you step back, busying yourself in the kitchen so that the new family can spend time alone together, or recommending local parks for them to take the baby to on their own. You see familiarity growing, and one day the baby runs to Dad instead of you when she bumps herself. Your time together is nearly over. Friends and family start to pop round to say goodbye and you explain to so many people that they won't be seeing the baby again - people at church, mums at the baby group you took her to, the man who works in the bakery. You make a memory box for her of photos, cards and notes, and write her a letter to read when she's older about what she was like as a baby and how much she was loved.
When the day comes you're ready. All of her clothes and toys have already been taken to her new house, you pack up the last bag with her pyjamas, special soft toy and toothbrush. The doorbell rings at the agreed time, and as you've previously agreed as it's an emotional day for everyone there isn't much delay. You give the baby a big squeeze and a kiss, hand her over to her Daddy and wave as they drive down the road. You know that she's going to have a wonderful life, but your heart is broken and at several points over the next few days, weeks and months you will hold your family close and weep.
You think that you could never do it again, but a few months down the line the phone rings. "There's a baby…" they say, and you say yes because you know that they need you.
We're not special sorts of people and it's definitely not easier for us than it would be for you. This is what it's like:
Imagine that you got a call out of the blue one day saying that a relative you didn't know had passed away, and that her baby girl needed a temporary home. They know you have a spare room and child experience, and wanted to know whether you would take the baby in for a few months whilst they searched for her father. You don't have much time - the baby needs a home today. You say yes and rush around buying nappies and formula and preparing her room. You're excited, it's been a long time since there was a baby in the house. You can't help yourself in the supermarket and buy a couple of adorable little outfits. The baby arrives with her social worker - she's so tiny in her car seat and looks so vulnerable. You sign the paperwork, pick her up and give her a cuddle. She's confused and anxious, and you spend long hours holding and comforting her over the next few weeks whilst you get used to each other and settle into a routine together. One day you realise you love her and you start to imagine her staying forever - you're only human - and picture her first day of school, helping her with her homework, teaching her all the things your mother taught you. You're there for her first milestones - teething, her first steps, her first word, her first birthday. She's part of your family - you're the one she reaches out for, you're the one she smiles for, you're the one she runs to when she's hurt and your children's grandparents dote on her.
You get calls now and then explaining that the search is still going on, and you don't really think about it. Then one day eight months later, her social worker comes to visit. They've found the baby's father. He and his wife were so excited to find out about the baby, they've been through the necessary parenting assessments and are looking forward to taking her home in about a month. She's brought a brightly coloured baby photo album containing photos of Dad, his wife and their home for you to prepare the baby for her move. They've sent a soft toy teddy as a gift for her, and the social worker tells you to put it in the baby's cot for her to get used to her new family's smell ahead of time. She asks for your phone number so that Dad can phone you to find out more information about the baby's routine and personality. You always knew that this was the plan, but you're surprised how shell-shocked you feel now that it's finally happening.
The next evening, Dad calls. He sounds so nervous, but relaxes during the conversation and his tone is gentle and kind. You can hear his wife in the background asking questions, and with your eyes on the sleeping baby you tell him all about his daughter - what makes her laugh, how to settle her at night, what her favourite foods are, the toys she has already and you suggest a couple of things for them to have in their house ready for her arrival. You've never heard someone so excited and you start to relax too - you know that this is the right thing for her and you know that she's going to be loved.
Two weeks later introductions start. The doorbell rings. You pick the baby up and open the door, and for the two people standing on the doorstep time stops for a moment as they meet their child for the first time. She knows their faces from the photo album. "Who's that?" you say, pointing at the man. "Daddy!" she says, and you see his heart melt. By the end of the first visit, she's sitting on his lap, knocking down towers of blocks built by her new mummy who clearly adores her already. They're all laughing, and you take Dad's phone and quickly snap a photo for them. Over the next week you step back, busying yourself in the kitchen so that the new family can spend time alone together, or recommending local parks for them to take the baby to on their own. You see familiarity growing, and one day the baby runs to Dad instead of you when she bumps herself. Your time together is nearly over. Friends and family start to pop round to say goodbye and you explain to so many people that they won't be seeing the baby again - people at church, mums at the baby group you took her to, the man who works in the bakery. You make a memory box for her of photos, cards and notes, and write her a letter to read when she's older about what she was like as a baby and how much she was loved.
When the day comes you're ready. All of her clothes and toys have already been taken to her new house, you pack up the last bag with her pyjamas, special soft toy and toothbrush. The doorbell rings at the agreed time, and as you've previously agreed as it's an emotional day for everyone there isn't much delay. You give the baby a big squeeze and a kiss, hand her over to her Daddy and wave as they drive down the road. You know that she's going to have a wonderful life, but your heart is broken and at several points over the next few days, weeks and months you will hold your family close and weep.
You think that you could never do it again, but a few months down the line the phone rings. "There's a baby…" they say, and you say yes because you know that they need you.
Friday, 17 October 2014
The difference a year makes
It's just over a year since Peter moved in with us which feels like a huge milestone. I remember when we were talking about the referral before we'd even met Peter we said "Give us a year, he'll be a completely different child," and it became a phrase repeated frequently by our friends and family and even other professionals.
Well, it was certainly true, there's just no comparison!
October 2013 aged 4
It hasn't been easy for any of us at times, but we are beyond proud of Peter for how well he's done getting used to a new home, new boundaries, new school, and now having another little person around and being a big foster-brother. We absolutely adore him and are so glad that he's part of our family. We love nurturing, teaching and encouraging him - we can't wait to see how much he grows and progresses over the next year!
Well, it was certainly true, there's just no comparison!
October 2013 aged 4
- Full time nappies with no awareness of wet or dirty
- Very skinny, in age 2-3 clothing with no strength in his limbs or hands
- Wouldn't brush his teeth, couldn't go to the hairdresser or dentist
- Self-harming behaviours (head banging, slapping his face so hard he'd burst his lip)
- Dummy and comfort blanket full time except at school
- 10 single words, numbers to 10 and the alphabet
- Any change, transition or ending an activity would trigger a mega meltdown
- Total refusal to walk outside
- Unsafe near water
- Tried to escape from any building or park we went to
- Communicated in screams or taking our hands to show us what he wanted
- No response to his name
- No crunchy foods - would only eat puree, tinned veg stew or tinned spaghetti
- Couldn't use fork or spoon, ate by scooping with his whole hand
- Drank from a lidded no-spill beaker, and would only drink chocolate milkshake
- No pincer grasp to pick up small items - whole hand grip only
- Took medication to sleep
- Addicted to the iPad
- Very little eye contact and showed no affection
- No self-care skills - couldn't get dressed, wipe his face, put shoes on
October 2014 aged 5
- Dry and clean in the day, nappies at night
- Tall and strong, in age 6-7 clothing
- Brushes his teeth every day, happy at the hairdresser and dentist
- No self-harming behaviours
- No dummy, comfort blanket only for bedtime
- Hundreds of words, talks in short sentences and learned phrases, counts past 100 and can spell some words
- Very rare mild meltdowns now - change and transition are no longer an issue for him
- Walks outside happily holding an adult's hand
- Stays near us or keeps us in sight in parks - no longer tries to escape
- Safe near water, he can be trusted to wait for permission to paddle if it's safe
- Communicates verbally and using a few signs
- Responds to his name, and can read and spell it!
- Varied and healthy diet including a range of textures
- Uses a fork or spoon appropriately
- Drinks water, milk or diluted fruit juice from an open cup
- Pincer grasp is developing
- No longer medicated to sleep
- Enjoys using the iPad when he's allowed to but will happily move on when it's time.
- Excellent eye contact, loves cuddles and kisses
- Gets himself dressed, wipes his own hands and face, puts on his own shoes
It hasn't been easy for any of us at times, but we are beyond proud of Peter for how well he's done getting used to a new home, new boundaries, new school, and now having another little person around and being a big foster-brother. We absolutely adore him and are so glad that he's part of our family. We love nurturing, teaching and encouraging him - we can't wait to see how much he grows and progresses over the next year!
Wednesday, 8 October 2014
Emotional baggage
Tonight was another instalment of "things foster carers do that other people never have to do". Belle's social worker arrived this afternoon with all of her belongings - several bin bags and a huge plastic tub full of mostly clothes, but also bedding, toys and bath bits. She asked us to go through it and decide what to keep to use for Belle, and the rest would be collected and returned to Belle's mum.
This is not something we've done before - Peter and Andy both came from another foster placement so had an appropriate amount of clothes and toys, and Jack-Jack arrived with absolutely nothing from home.
It was an emotionally tiring and heartbreaking task. Belle's mum had packed up absolutely everything - from the tiny baby first clothes that she's long grown out of, to bits and pieces in the next size with the tags still on. Warm coats and padded trousers for winter. Hand-knitted bootees and cardigans. Pretty dresses that might have been worn to a party or wedding. Tiny little pram shoes. Piles and piles of vests and sleepsuits, dresses, trousers and tops.
Of course, not everyone has the same taste and we needed to sort them out without any judgement or opinion - this wasn't "would I put my own child in this?", but rather "is this seasonally appropriate and in the correct size?"
We've ended up with lots of really lovely little outfits - some for Belle to wear day to day, and some which will be saved for her to wear at contact sessions with her mum.
We arranged the belongings nicely into groups and took some photos which we'll put in Belle's memory box for her to take with her when she moves on.
It's good for mum to see her daughter in clothes she's chosen so she still feels involved, but it will also be good for Belle to know when she grows up that her mum loved her and provided for her even when they weren't able to live together.
This is not something we've done before - Peter and Andy both came from another foster placement so had an appropriate amount of clothes and toys, and Jack-Jack arrived with absolutely nothing from home.
It was an emotionally tiring and heartbreaking task. Belle's mum had packed up absolutely everything - from the tiny baby first clothes that she's long grown out of, to bits and pieces in the next size with the tags still on. Warm coats and padded trousers for winter. Hand-knitted bootees and cardigans. Pretty dresses that might have been worn to a party or wedding. Tiny little pram shoes. Piles and piles of vests and sleepsuits, dresses, trousers and tops.
Of course, not everyone has the same taste and we needed to sort them out without any judgement or opinion - this wasn't "would I put my own child in this?", but rather "is this seasonally appropriate and in the correct size?"
We've ended up with lots of really lovely little outfits - some for Belle to wear day to day, and some which will be saved for her to wear at contact sessions with her mum.
We arranged the belongings nicely into groups and took some photos which we'll put in Belle's memory box for her to take with her when she moves on.
It's good for mum to see her daughter in clothes she's chosen so she still feels involved, but it will also be good for Belle to know when she grows up that her mum loved her and provided for her even when they weren't able to live together.
Sunday, 5 October 2014
New baby
We have a second placement! An eight month old baby girl - Belle, for the purposes of this blog - moved in five days ago (it's taken this long to get over "baby brain" and get ourselves organised again to post on the blog!) She is absolutely adorable but has some feeding issues and is severely underweight, so we've been trained in NG tubes to supplement her nutrition.
Peter is coping really well with the intrusion of his home and having to share us, (although a couple of days in he did say emphatically "Bye bye baby Belle! Baby Belle go back home!") we've made sure he's had extra nurturing and special time with us so that he doesn't feel jealous. There have been a few sweet moments between them - this morning he let her hold his finger whilst he watched television, and he puts up with her wanting to grab his nose and pull his hair. He keeps a keen eye on what we're doing, although he pretends to ignore Belle most of the time, he's very quick to notice when there are cuddles or feeding going on and pipes up with "Peter's turn!"
We don't know how long Belle will be staying or what the plan for her will be yet, but we're really enjoying our time with her and are looking forward to seeing her grow and progress.
Peter is coping really well with the intrusion of his home and having to share us, (although a couple of days in he did say emphatically "Bye bye baby Belle! Baby Belle go back home!") we've made sure he's had extra nurturing and special time with us so that he doesn't feel jealous. There have been a few sweet moments between them - this morning he let her hold his finger whilst he watched television, and he puts up with her wanting to grab his nose and pull his hair. He keeps a keen eye on what we're doing, although he pretends to ignore Belle most of the time, he's very quick to notice when there are cuddles or feeding going on and pipes up with "Peter's turn!"
We don't know how long Belle will be staying or what the plan for her will be yet, but we're really enjoying our time with her and are looking forward to seeing her grow and progress.
Friday, 26 September 2014
Hidden talents
Our car needed to go in for a service today so Esmerelda picked Peter up from school in a courtesy car. She pointed out to him that it had a picture on the side and that it was smaller than our car, but Peter didn't seem interested in the car at all. They drove to his Occupational Therapy appointment and when they came out an hour later, on the way to the car park Esmeralda said "Do you remember which one is our car today?" "PN14 6GG" said Peter immediately. Esmeralda checked, and he had remembered the exact number plate of the courtesy car!
Peter does like cars but they're not a major interest and we had no idea that he was aware that cars have number plates, nor that they would be a way to identify a specific car.
We're wondering what other hidden talents he's harbouring!
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