Placements

Another door
Another bed
Papers to shuffle
Go rest your head...


Another day
Another place
Another child
A different face

Long-term short term
Hard to place
Forget the name
Another case

Targets budgets
Paid to cope
Another home
Give words of hope

Childhood lives
Lost in wait
Reasons for change
In the welfare state

Just a little poem of reality.

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Adopt a Donkey

Is it just me or...

does anyone else get pissed off when searching for adoption related things. I reckon there is more information about adopting dogs, cats and donkeys than there is relating to human adoption issues.

Perhaps I'm just a miserable moaning sod! I don't want to adopt a dog or cat and I aint got room for a donkey. I want the latest information for UK forced Adoptions!
I spent the weekend browsing (out of sheer nosiness) to see what adoption groups or blogs I could find out there. If I didn't know what I already know I would be convinced the world of adoption is a planet full of happy shiny people. One forum (I nearly joined just to take the piss!) had a ten page discussion amongst members who were waiting to adopt, on what names they had chosen for the future child! Live Spaces and Face Book AaaaRH!!

Ive just got my moaning head on today. Think I might check out adopting a donkey after all. What do you think to the name Ned?

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Hair colour 1972/73

It is only since finding my family that everything in my life fell into place. You hear people say ‘the light went on’; it was floodlights in my case. Although I have an understanding now of why certain things happened, it isn’t easy sharing events with a key board.

It didn’t hurt and I’m not sure I can explain it. The smell, it stung my nose and eyes but no, it didn’t hurt. 1972/73 or there about. My adoptive mum was dying my hair over the bath. I was excited at first, it seemed so grown up. My hair was going to be the same colour as my sisters. My ‘sister’ is their natural daughter; she is eighteen months older than I am. I say sister, and I always will. Don’t ask me why I don’t think of her as my adoptive sister, because that is something I don’t understand myself. I just know in my head and heart she is my sister and I would kill for her.

Everything had been fine; I had sat for what seemed like ever with smelly stuff on my hair. I must have played half a dozen games with my amum and ate at least two packs of biscuits until it was time to wash it off. Amum didn’t want me to get any dye in my eyes so she had dug out a pair of rubber goggles. It was hysterical because I couldn’t hold them on for laughing. They were supposed to go over my head but of course, she wouldn’t have been able to wash my hair if I wore them properly.

I hadn’t noticed my adad come in; I just know something was wrong. My amum wrapped a towel around my head and rushed me into the bedroom. I could hear them arguing but not what they were saying. Mostly I could hear my amum crying or rather screeching. I don’t know how long it went on for it wasn’t long though. I had climbed onto the back of the settee (my favourite spot) and adad was brushing my hair. I just remember my amum ripping the brush out of his hand and literally screaming that I had done it on purpose. Done what?

It didn’t make sense; my amum was saying I was doing it to annoy her. Doing what? She was crying and shaking asking me why? I must have got scared or something because I know my adad picked me up and took me out in the car. It wasn’t long after that my amum got poorly (that’s what I was told) and had to stay in hospital for a bit.

The dye incident was never an issue, in fact over the years we often laughed about it. I never asked why it happened or what it was all about. I hadn’t given that day a thought for at least fifteen years. In 2005, I opened my front door and there was my real family. I was seeing them for the first time. If you had put me in a room with a thousand people and told, someone to pick what family I belonged to they would have pointed to my real family. There was no mistaking it. I was not only my mum’s double but also my two sisters were the living image of me. My hair dye jumped into my head like an electric shock (I’m dramatic I know ha-ha) but that’s how it was. It all made sense. I had up until the age of seven had blue eyes and blonde hair just like my afamily. My eyes changed to green and my hair is almost black.

My amum didn’t want anyone to know I was adopted. People often used to make jokes about my hair. Was I the milkman’s was the usual question? My adad just used to laugh but looking back my amum would end up having one of her funny turns (that’s what we used to call moods). I have worked through it in my head now. I think she felt everything she had done to get me was for nothing if people found out I wasn’t theirs. When she was having her breakdowns, she had decided in her head that I was changing deliberately to spite her.

Any one reading this will automatically think what a horrible person, because I know I would think that just reading it. She wasn’t a horrible person; she was just a scared woman with mental health issues.

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Adoption CyberWorld

Discovering the world forums quite possibly saved my sanity. The internet was until early 2004 alien to me. I had to ask the kids how to turn the computer on so you can imagine how bad my computer skills were.

I was the source of my kid’s amusement for a few months of my internet initiation. They 'helped' me to set up email and other user accounts, which I thought was good of them. It didn't take long to realise they were taking the 'p' out of me. I was suddenly a member of three on-line dating agencies, a Harry Potter fan site and not to mention all the gothic vampire sites! The final straw was armchair bob. Yeh, armchair bob. I had apparently subscribed to him, sort of like a virtual husband only without the ability to knee him where it hurts.

The time had come to admit my ignorance and get help from a friend. Kids banished from the house we began. My god I couldn’t believe what was out there or how easy it all really was! The kids would have to look elsewhere for entertainment from now on.

Typing the word adoption into the search box opened up a completely new world to me. I quickly came across some forums. Some of the forums where a bit dodgy to say the least but mostly they were made up of people just like me. Ok, everyone had their own story but in one way, another adoption, or the care system had affected their lives.

I joined four or five forums, mostly adoption but one or two that were set up for kids that had been in care (my reason for joining will become clear over time). For the first time in my life, I started to open up about my adoption and childhood. I ran away from my hometown at sixteen and had never spoken about my past to anyone. Obviously, being anonymous helped but it soon became clear that these people in my cyber world were more than just 'people'. They were individuals who not only understood each other but they actually care about people.

I don’t think I would of found my family without the help of the people (now my friends) using the forums. If I were feeling like shit (common side effect), there would always be someone who understood or put things into perspective for me. I soon learnt how to do look ups and where to find information from that would help in my search. It's all about helping each other.

For me and I suspect a lot of adoptees cyberspace is the only place I can be completely honest about my feelings. In the 'real' world, it is much easier to say nothing at all. Walking on eggshells is an understatement. If I was to say how I really feel to the different people in my life, I think it would cause a global meltdown! I often play out the conversations in my head but that is where they will have to stay.

When it comes to my childhood or adoption, I have a real problem with guilt and not wanting to hurt people’s feelings. I would never be able to tell my real mum how much it hurt or affected me not having her in my life. I could never tell her how confused and mixed up my feelings still are. I could list a hundred more things I could never tell her, all for the same reason. I wouldn’t want to hurt her. Is that just me or is it an 'adoption' thing. I would love to hear how it is for others. Oh, thank god for the world of cyber and forums!

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Madonna -Adoption farce

So Madonna's publicist has declared that her adoption dream is still on track. What a mockery...

Last year the celeb trend was little bony dogs that would fit in a hand bag and wear pretty pink diamond collars. Wow have things moved on. The battle of the celeb status has reached new heights. To be in the running the accessory must be alive. The more remote the ethnic background the bigger the status.

Her chances of adopting baby 'David' should of been stopped the minute she took him from his home country. The Hague convention for the protection of children was put into place to stop baby trafficking and the sale of babies. So why aren't the laws been put into force.

Inter-country adoption can mean the difference between life and death for some children. You only have to see a documentary about the dying rooms in china to know that. That doesn't mean you can just go and pick one. The law is that you have to be approved in this country through the adoption agency procedure before you can even approach the other country. Madonna brought a child into this country illegally and not a damn thing has been done about it.

What the f#c# is that all about! She says she fell in love with the child and wants to raise him as her own and his future will be bright, OK, maybe not her exact words, but along those lines. Bollocks! If she really meant that then the money that it will cost her to raise the lad why wouldn't she give that to the child's family. The money would probably raise his whole village and provide a better future for a generation of kids like him.

I'm fascinated to see what the next Celeb accessory is going to be. I just hope for the poor kids sake it isn't white middle class children or designer cats!

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Adoption File

I finally received my adoption file in 1994. When I was handed it I went through every emotion possible. Shock and disbelief were two emotions that refused to go away.

I don't know what shocked me more, learning that my childhood 'imaginary' name was actually the name I was given at birth or how little information there was in it. The two page questionnaire held no surprises or the torn bit of paper (which fell apart while I tried to scan it!). They read pretty much as my adoptive family had told me. I had been handed over to them at ten days of age by my real mum. I wasn't to find out for another eleven years that my afamily with the help of my real mums brother had lied to social services.

The file also contained a yellow form that had my birth name on it and my real mums name on it, along with date of birth. The form was to be sent off to the Registrar General at Southport and they would then send my birth certificate to me!! Now this is where, if you didn't already think I was a bit mad in the head, you will definitely think I am now. I couldn't part with that yellow form. It was the only thing I had ever had or seen that told me who I was. It also had my mums name on it. I cant explain how amazing that felt.

I photo copied the form and sent it off to Southport only to have it returned with a letter stating they could only except original forms. I was gutted. If it was to get lost in the post I would never ever have that confirmation again of who I was. I did warn you all that I'm a bit mad! The logical thing would of been to just keep the photo copy and send the original. YES!! I know! but I couldn't, I had waited nearly thirty years to have an identity I was scared stiff of losing it again. I hate thinking about just how desperate I felt at that time. Makes me feel a bit a sad freak to be honest, but hey fuck it I wanted a mum and needed a mum. I wanted to be loved.

I didn't part with my yellow form for over six years. The year 2000 I sent it off and got my birth certificate. here is how the powers that be summed up my birth. My adoption was little more than a clerical error at birth!

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