A week before we were due to start IVF, my husband and I decided not to go ahead with it. I'd always wanted to adopt, even before we found out it was 'very unlikely' we would have our own children. And so, we decided that instead of making our marriage a pursuit of babies we might never have, we'd go straight for adoption.
More than a year after gaining approval, and while we were waiting to be matched, we found out I was pregnant. After the birth of our son, we hoped lightning would strike twice. It didn't, and once again, we knew adoption was the way to go for us.
This time though we already had a child in our family and my primary concern was him. When we were matched with a one-year-old and sent a photo of him, I showed it to my son. "Would you like him to join our family?" I asked. He smiled and said: "yes, he looks like me, doesn't he?"
It was meant to be, but I didn't let myself believe it would happen. Just in case.
In the car on the way to meeting the little boy we were going to adopt, I said to my husband, "what if he doesn't like us?" He laughed. "He's going to love us." I wasn't sure. We had sent him a book of photos of us so he would know what we looked like. After a while, he went over to the book and pointed at a picture of me and my husband. "That's right," said the foster carer, "that's Mummy and Daddy." It felt as if my heart stopped. Then he turned to look at me and smiled. I smiled back. It was going to be ok.
My husband played with him and made him laugh - yet I couldn't bring myself to pick him up. I wanted to watch him, to get to know him and for him to come to me when he was ready. I knew I loved him and I hoped he would love us too.
We were careful how we introduced our new son to family and friends. They would have loved to meet him straight away, but were kind enough to hold back until we were all ready. The school run was a bit different. Before the Easter holiday it was just me and my eldest son. Then, suddenly, I was dropping him off with a small boy in a buggy too. Most of the parents smiled and didn't ask questions. My older boy told them this was his baby brother and they accepted that. Some of the mums talked to me, asking how long he had been with us and how it was going. One or two went further and wanted to know what had happened to him that meant he had to be adopted. Their questions felt like an invasion of privacy.
Going from one child to two is a challenge for anyone. We went from having an only child, to having a toddler join us who had also been used to having all the adult attention in his foster placement. They weren't prepared to share toys, parents, space or anything at first. I'd go to soothe my crying one-year-old, only for his older brother to start screaming. They would lash out at each other when playing and I couldn't leave the room in case a fight broke out.
On his first few nights in his new house, our little boy was unable to settle. I drove him around in the car for hours and everything we knew about parenting went out of the window - we were in survival mode. I'd wonder if every one of my new son's reactions was down to his past and some deep-seated trauma. My elder son's behaviour, meanwhile, made me feel incompetent. More than once I wondered if the agency had made a mistake in placing this poor child with us in this house full of shouting and drama.
I asked for help and started receiving regular visits from a social worker who could offer me support. In those early days, my younger boy clung to me and my older boy felt pushed out. I had to find ways to ensure they both felt loved and cared for. That included making time for them both to have one-on-one time with me and my husband.
Resolving the issues of sibling rivalry is an ongoing saga. When people say, "oh all children do that," they don't take into account that our boys came to be brothers in a different way than their children. At times I've felt torn in two trying to give them both the attention and love they need from me. In the depths of this struggle though, I always hoped they would find a way to be together and love each other. My beautiful boys who have been made brothers by the wishes of grown ups: the youngest follows and copies his big brother, the eldest is fiercely proud of his baby brother. They fight, they bicker, they laugh, they make my heart swell with pride. It seems odd to call them my 'birth son' and 'adopted son'. They're my sons and this is our family.
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Guest post: "Adoption meant everything we knew about parenting went out of the window"
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MumsnetGuestPosts · 17/02/2016 14:17
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paigeec ·
18/02/2016 22:29
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