Have you ever watched a film that is so darn predictable you find yourself figuring out ‘who dunnit’ and why, in the first ten minutes of viewing? Or perhaps you are one of those people who can spot a blooper (like the recently ill placed Starbucks coffee cup in the Game of Thrones).
Well my husband is one of those annoying people and in particular he has the skill to spot a balls up in a film (or programme) a mile off. His observational skills (unlike my own) are second to none and will quite often see him pausing a film part way through to laugh his head off before rewinding it back to point it out to me.
Ok well let’s just imagine that my life has turned into one of those films currently labelled under the genre of ‘disaster movie’. Now pause and rewind back all those weeks ago when I met my baby (yes the second one) for the first time. Now hit play. Watching it back there we are leaving the Foster carers house…..here’s the bit where we briefly chat to our social worker by the car……. and now we are in the car.
Naturally my part is being played by Jennifer Lawrence (I’ve just asked hubby to give me the name of a hot actress) and of course (me) in Jennifer’s body will be staring into the eyes of Channing Tatum…………..Cut (shouts the director).
Oh ok ok, too much? Well picture me (if you must) with my dodgy roots and muffin top. So darn glamorous in fact I remember spending some of that particular meeting pulling at the end of my trousers to cover (my not so clean shaven legs). In the safe confines of our car with my gorgeous slightly balding, spectacle wearing hubby. I’m all gushy and happy after having held our baby for the first time but his face looks deadly serious. ‘What’s the situation with the carers? He asks curiously ‘I’m not sure’ I respond wracking my brains ‘why?’ I ask still oblivious. ‘Trust me Jo, they are going to struggle to give the baby up’ it’s at this point I do a mid movie (when he tells me who the murderer is) gawk of surprise in his direction before telling him how wrong he’s got it.
In most films (even the Disney ones) there is generally a villain, however it’s not (and will never be) the Foster carers in this one. What hubby spotted that day may have been subtle, however they say ‘the eyes are the window to your soul’ and I reckon if we momentarily paused our film there, then perhaps we all would have seen this coming (just as he did).
In true thespian style the show must go on; back to the script and cue the entrance of our villain. We live in a culture of blame after all and every good film….or pantomime come to think of it (as I now contemplate booing and hissing) needs a Baddie. ‘She who shall not be named’ (and for legal purposes) I shall simply refer to as ‘jobsworth’.
1 an official who upholds petty rules even at the expense of humanity or common sense.
Now I’m pretty convinced we can all relate to a ‘Jobsworth’ (not exclusive to the world of Adoption) he /she has a nasty little habit of rearing their ugly head in many different professions and are generally renowned for making a nuisance of themselves.
In our story this particular ‘Jobsworth’ actually raised a very interesting debate at our expense, subsequently placing our entire adoption on hold and causing what one can only describe as a ‘professional shitstorm‘ (if it’s good enough for Angela Merkel, it’s good enough for me).
Cue Good Morning Britain debate with Piers Morgans and Susanna Reid and today’s question is…….Are we breaching the human rights of a child in care by moving them (if we don’t have to) and are we unnecessarily damaging them if we decide to do so?
Mind actually blown 💥
Now working in the world of social work myself I know that we are encouraged to practice an anti discriminatory approach (and I pride myself in doing just this). Therefore I’d like to think that ‘Jobsworth’ is following a similar kind of protocol and is not off on some radical solo (one case) mission.
So is ‘the system’ breaching the human rights of a child by moving them (unnecessarily) and is it damaging them by doing so? Well I have to concur that perhaps it is when it comes to some cases involving older children, where’s the ‘Jobsworth’ then when you need them? When it comes to young(er) children however, the very concept of having to assess the potential damage from a move and any infringement to their human rights places huge additional burden on social services making them ultimately accountable for any permanent damage to those children. This would conceivably change the rules of engagement for Adopting a child in the UK forever, making more professionals fearful of getting it wrong and over complicating an already complicated process for all involved.
Needless to say the concerns of moving our matched baby were never going to be upheld, however it did conveniently provide enough time to unearth more legalities which will sadly take months to resolve, creating unnecessary delay for our babies happy ever after.
Cut to the final scene of our disaster movie (one that I have lovingly named ‘Cloudy with a chance of a shitstorm’). There we are, me and hubby, with ‘typical British’ stiff upper lips and brollies poised before being relentlessly pelted with emoji poohs.
For a while we are actually doing quite well batting them away, however after some time like gremlins they appear to multiply and suddenly I become distracted by what’s in the middle of the storm. There stood without umbrella’s are five children and a very small baby. Initially our natural instincts are to try and shield them, however the storm is too fierce and we can’t all fit under the umbrellas. It doesn’t take long for us to realise that the only way to protect them all is for the storm to cease. Now as parents we are sometimes required to make sacrifices for our children and in this case it required giving up on our dream of adding to our beautiful little family.
It takes a special person to be a Foster carer someone who is gifted with the unique ability to be able to love and to lose and develop a resilience in order to repeat the experience over and over again.
Today I count my lucky stars that whilst I have the heart of an Adoptive Mumma I also have the mindset and resilience of a warrior Foster carer.
Sadly there will be no son today, but according to the weather forecast there will be sun tomorrow. 🌞