I’m writing to you this National Adoption Week with only one political matter in mind and rest assured that it certainly isn’t Brexit!
And finally in the same week as the ‘Bo Jo’ courtroom saga the 'Jo Jo' courtroom battle played out too. Adoption’s very own version of Brexit - should the baby we are matched with remain with his foster carers or leave and come to us.
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 shit storm'.
When the Meerkat panics the owl flies away (this part of the brain shuts down) hence leaving us temporarily without adequate impulse control and rational judgement.
In true Magnus Magnusson style I will continue to write my story to the very end, even if it is a flipping novel, (with tragic undertones) by the time I finish!
A matter of days later during our 'chemistry meeting' I got to cradle my baby for the first time, I got to inhale my babies' smell and as my baby slept soundly on my chest for a short while I secretly knew that I had finally found ‘the one’.
Entering the room we took our seats and my mouth instantly became dry. Searching for water my hands shook slightly and as the water danced in the cup it reminded me of the Jurassic park park scene where the T Rex approaches.......... Sh*t am I going to get eaten alive?