‘THE’ Phonecall

Well after many frustrating weeks of hearing nothing and waiting, our Social Worker phoned this morning to ask to come out to see us. I said is this ‘THE’ come out and see us meeting and she laughed and said yes. I asked if they had a child in mind and she said yes but couldn’t tell me anymore because Peter wasn’t there. As we were in work together at the time I said he’s right beside me, is it ‘m’ or ‘f’ and she said M. Then I asked the age and she said very young! Continue reading


Pillar to Post

So things finally seem to be moving in the right direction. It is January and our social worker has said that we are now aiming to go to the March panel, she has finally arranged to go and chat to our referees and has also told us to make our appointments for our medical examinations.

We have also had notification of a series of workshops we have to attend in the coming weeks to ‘prepare’ us for becoming adoptive parents.

I still can’t help but wonder where all the support comes from when you are becoming a birth parent for the first time, but as always I am prepared to jump through every hope put in front of me.

We attend the workshops and meet some really lovely people who are going through the same process, its interesting to hear their views on the assessment process and compare notes. I am shocked to find out that one couple were asked how often they have sex by their social worker! I mean, what’s the right answer? If you say not often is your relationship dysfunctional? If you say all the time, then will you be too busy bonking to care for a child? It really is ridiculous!

As we enter into March, I am excited and apprehensive that we may be getting closer to going to panel and being approved, but in the first week of March our social worker says that we had missed the deadline for the panel last week! It would have been nice to have been told!

I am so gutted, I can’t help but burst into tears. It feels like no matter how hard we try and how many hoops we jump through, we are always having to put our lives in social services hands. It really feels like we are being passed from pillar to post.