Musings after my first Mother's Day

For the first 30 something years of my life Mother's Day was never a positive one. Buying flowers to my mum and grandma when I was young was a must. Now that we live quite far away from each other I order some flowers and send a card. Until last year it had nothing but negative connotations for me. Every year in church all mothers had to stand up to receive flowers - I could always dodge this. In the second round all soon-to-be-mothers had to stand up to receive flowers and this awkward game continued until every poor person with reproductive organs on the inside had to stand and of course, receive flowers. I have worked in several countries in Africa and the first question was always 'do you have children?' No, I used to say. 'Then we should pray for you even more' they responded and continued to feel sorry for me.

But 11 months ago our two boys moved in with us and now I need to take a closer look at my Twitter handle (@FeelingMumYet) and ask myself: Am I feeling like a Mum yet?

• Took Snoops (7) to the GP recently and the good doctor asked me if I was his mum. Bless him, Snoops said 'yes, of course'. Then GP asked if I have PR (parental right) to sign a certain paper to which I had to say 'no'. From the day they moved in and we officially 'claimed them' I have all the parental responsibilities of being their mum, but only a fraction of parental rights. It feels odd that I need to check with their SW for most significant things, but the other 23h 58min every day they belong to me.
  
• I wrote about my recent one sided row with Birth Mum on which one of us is the boys' mum - she with her DNA or me with actually raising them. I received quite a few supportive comments from friends and random people who stumbled upon my blog; somebody said 'many woman can give birth, but only a few will become true mothers'. I quite liked that sentiment!
  
• I re-read some of my earlier posts and again I realised that I am still the only female in the house; I  live with 3 males who fart, burp, eat a lot more than me and always leave the toilet seat up!
  
• And then we look at the actual day itself. I know in many adoptive homes (and sadly also in many birth families as well) this day continues to remain a big challenge. Last year our boys just moved in before Father's Day and the whole day was a disaster that culminated in my husband getting kicked, bitten and attacked by a 6 year old. For poor hubby this was his first ever Father's Day, but I doubt he wants to remember it...

I guess enough time has passed since then, because the boys do call me MUM and in their heads there is no doubt this is their Finally Forever For Real Home. 6 said it the other day to somebody 'my favourite colour is red, just like my mum's!' So this gave me a reason to hope this time it will be ok and we are not facing an open can of worms...

Hubby took them shopping a day before and the kids could not contain their excitement! On the big day my 3 men made breakfast and kept on hinting that I will receive a present. 6 got me a truly beautiful necklace with Mother engraved on it. 7 got me a lovely china swan that doubles as a ring holder. But the most amazing thing was the fact that they have spent 1,5 months of their pocket money each! I was very touched! 

Both boys got me lovely cards too with a writing YOU ARE THE BEST MUM. To any other child this would be just a lovely cliché, but for my boys this carries a significant message: they had a few mothers and mothering figures during their short lives and among those women I AM THEIR BESTEST! :) 

So, yeah, thanks for asking, I AM FEELING MUM now!

Letter to me from Birth Mum

It started off as a beautiful day. It was warm and sunny so I planned a walk to the beach while the boys were in school. I was all dressed and ready when the postman came. An envelope 'Private and Confidential' from our LA. I didn't expect anything from them this week so as one would, I freaked out! There was another envelop inside; it was opened. A picture fell out. I picked it up from the floor. IT WAS HER! With Snoops' smile and Goofs' eyes! My heart sank...

We were assured she will not write. Even when we met her she told us 'she has moved on'. Recently when we needed her for something she was utterly rude to the SW and told her 'I have nothing to do with the children anymore so leave me alone'. And yet, I am holding a neatly written letter from her addressed to me.

I don't want to read it! I don't want to know anything about her life! I don't care what she's up to next! The only thing I want to know is why did she write to me, but for that I have to read her letter.

She is very polite and courteous. She thanked me for my lovely letter to her that was jam-packed with information about the children; their likes, hobbies, achievements in school and sports. She is only responding to my letter in a friendly tone. It stirs up so many puddles in me.

1. We are NOT friends!
This well known quote in adoption circles from Jody Landers summarises my feelings well. The only reason she and I even know each other is because she gave them birth and now they call me MUM.

From the letter you would think we are, indeed, friends. She is commenting on my comments, adding her own experiences, she is asking relevant questions and no doubt she is expecting me to answer them in my next letter. She is communicating with me better than some of my friends! What the heck is going on here???

2. I don't WANT to become friends with her!
Even though we know she herself had a very difficult childhood, which contributed greatly to her not being able to care for the children I frankly don't want to think of her as the victim. It is easier to see her as the abuser who hurt the children repeatedly and therefore lost the right to have them in her house and in her life! We have agreed to do letter box contact twice a year, but I was hoping for it to be a one way communication...

3. Nature vs nurture.
I shared with her about the newfound interest Snoops has for science, space and engineering. I'd like to take credit for that as until he moved in with us he had showed no signs of even remotely being interested in that, but in our house he was exposed to books on space and planets, sci-fi geeky stuff, funny science experiments...etc. But now she tells me 'it is fascinating how much he takes after me, I wanted to become an astronaut and studied science and engineering and space...' Baaaaah! When the initial anger subsided I had to conclude it is for the best that I know these things about her. Not just because I want to be in a position to answer Snoops' questions when the dreaded conversation comes, but also for his sake to know if he has any special gifting in those areas. In moments like this I am painfully made aware that he is not my biological son! And it has two obvious implications: he does NOT take after me and that he does carry HER DNA in which lots of secrets are encoded.

I know it is us who provide him with opportunities to feed his interests. It's highly unlikely she could have ever taken him to science shows, pay for his coding club, take the time to explain gravitational force to him a millionth time or just listen to his non stop chatter about space and planets. That was all us! But the initial input came from her...

4. Should I tell the boys about this letter?
They have the right to know, simple is that. But the SW also agrees it is not the time to do it! But when is it the right time? The longer we wait the heavier the secret gets and the potential of a future explosion grows exponentially! X_t = X₀ (1+r)^t  (in case you were wondering. See what I just did there?) From the way the boys behave, if our first recent Mother's Day is any indication, they are safely, securely and happily attached to us. They do not think about BM, they definitely do not miss her or have any positive memories of her, just the opposite. They do not need their pond stirred at this time. We haven't told them we met her or the fact that we wrote a letter to her. We even agreed with SW not to include that photo of her and us together in the children's Life Story Books. So, for now, we wait with this information. If it comes up in a conversation (as in if the boys ask me a direct question) I might include random snippets about her, but then I am sure their next question will be 'how do you know that, mum?'

For now her letter is tucked away in a locked cabinet and I will not look at it again until it's time to write my second letter to her, in which I will attempt a friendly (???) tone and respond to her questions so our pen-pal relationship can grow until such time my sons are ready to here about it.

Detective Mummy & the Scar

Imagine you read a script of a TV show...

Genre: Family drama
Starring: 

• Detective Mummy (trying to do the right thing, that is therapeutically approach the situation and treat the root of the problem instead of the symptoms presented on the surface.)
• Goofs (6 years old son, who settled in really well, but as you will see his roots run very shallow and a smallest of wind can throw him back to his previous life; usually the 'OK child')
• Snoops (7 years old son, surprisingly in this episode he is the 'good son' for once, partially because whenever his brother is the 'problem child', his sibling jealousy catapults him into angel mode
• Dad (not so therapeutic parent, in this episode he is struggling with cold)

Act I.

Scene 1: Friday morning, Dad, Snoops, Goofs getting ready to leave the house and go to Sports Club

Dad: 'Are we ready to go? Goofs, put your jumper on.'

Goofs: 'I am red hot, I don't want to!' 

Dad: 'Are you sure? It's really cold.'

Goofs: 'Yes, I am sure!'

Off they go. The three walk to the location of the holiday club; it's a 10-20 min walk, depending on everybody's mood.

35 min later, Dad back in the house

Det. Mummy: 'How did it go?'

Dad: 'Goofs had a massive meltdown and was crying all the way. He was upset that we didn't take the car like we did yesterday.'

Det. Mummy: 'Did you explain the only reason you drove them yesterday was because you were sick and it was pouring down rain and sleet?'

Dad: 'No, not really. I told him we can walk like we usually do.'

Scene 2: Flashback to yesterday afternoon

Snoops: 'Mummy, tomorrow we will have a water fight in Sports Club so we need an extra set of clothing.'

Det. Mummy: 'Wow, I am quite surprised since it's still winter and it will be cold tomorrow.'

Snoops: 'That's OK, I don't want to get wet anyway so I will just stay inside.'

Goofs: 'Oh, if Snoops is not doing it, I don't want to do it either!'

Det. Mummy: 'I think you boys are making the right decision. I am very proud of both of you!'

Scene 3: back to Friday afternoon, Det. Mummy walking to pick the kids up from Sports Club

Det. Mummy: 'Goofs, why are you so wet?'

Goofs: (crying in the room, wearing only his shorts and t-shirt.) 'I am so cold!'

Det. Mummy: 'Where is your jacket? And your jumper? And your sweat pants?'

Goofs: 'I am so cold!'

Snoops: 'Look Mummy, I am dry, just like you told me to be! I am the clever one, right? Goofs made the wrong decision and joined in the water fight. His jacket is soaking wet, just like his sweat pants! He is very silly, right, Mummy?'

Det. Mummy: (ignoring his need to reinforce his brother is silly, she turns to Goofs) 'Where is your jumper?'

Snoops: (crying very loud now) 'I didn't bring any!' 

Det. Mummy: 'Well, that wasn't very clever of you, was it? Unfortunately I didn't bring the car so we have to walk home.'

Snoops starts a massive meltdown that culminates in him calling Det. Mummy names. She knows the best way to get the situation under control is to put the jacket onto Snoops (it's only a bit damp on the inside) and put the extra (and dry) sweat pants on him as fast as she can with one hand, while holding the disregulated child with the other hand.)

The walk home is a misery for all 3. Det. Mummy tries to give attention to Snoops who is extremely excited because he won an award in archery today, while ensuring Goofs keeps walking, who, for some reason decided that he is so frozen he can't even move his legs.

Snoops: '...so Jack said that and then I told him, just watch, and then the teacher said...' (fades into background)

Det. Mummy: 'Come on son, you can walk, your legs are fine. The sooner we get home the faster you can get a nice hot shower.'

Goofs: (not following them, but starts walking in the opposite direction) 'I hate you. I don't want to go to your stupid house ever again!'

Snoops: 'I am so proud of myself for winning the archery competition! Are you proud of me, Mummy?'

Det. Mummy: 'Yes, of course, I am very proud of you! Could you just stand here while I run after your brother?'

For the next ten minutes Det. Mummy is walking very fast. In her left hand she is holding the hand of happy Snoops who is skipping next to her. In her right hand she holds firmly the hand of a deeply unhappy Goofs, practically dragging him behind her while Goofs shouts at her non stop. Some strangers pass by and Goofs is desperate to gain their attention. Some must be parents themselves as they see it's a tantrum with no tears and the child is in no danger so they give a sympathetic look towards Det. Mummy and walk away.

Scene 4: we are inside the house, Goofs had a hot shower and he appears to be content as he sits at the dining room table

Det. Mummy: 'So, Goofs, you need to finish your reading homework and then we can all watch a film since it's Friday Family Film time and today you are choosing.'

Goofs: (shouting) 'No, never! I will never do that stupid book! It's not fair, why Snoops doesn't have any homework?'

Det. Mummy: (quietly) 'It's because he finished his last Friday. Come on, it's only a few pages left and then you can watch it. You know the rules; first the homework and then the movie!'

Goofs: (throws the book at her and continues shouting.) 'You are so stupid! I hate you! I hate your stupid house! I hate this stupid homework. I will not do it. I want to watch the film now!'

Det. Mummy: (starting to raise her voice) 'No, you will not. remember what happened to Snoops a few weeks ago? He had several warnings and he still didn't do it so sadly he missed the entire film. I wouldn't want you to have the same outcome...'

At this point Goofs attacks Det. Mummy with full force. She manages to get out of his way and puts her arms around him from behind, while he continues to shout insults at her.

Det. Mummy: 'I can see that this is very difficult for you. I understand that you feel it is not fair, but...'

In this moment Goofs wiggles himself out of the embrace with force. In the heat of the fight he breaks 3 of Det. Mummy's nails and as you would have it, one broken nail manages to scratch his arm. The tone of his shouting changes into panic and screaming.

Goofs: (in pain) 'You evil xxxx. You scratched me on purpose. I hate you even more than JaneDoe (birth mum's name).'

Det. Mummy: 'I am really really sorry. That was an accident! I...'

Goofs: (in panic mode now) 'Oh my god! I am bleeding! I'm going to die! You killed me!'

Det. Mummy: (feeling incredibly awful, but trying to show she is in control for the sake of the child and speaks in a calm voice) 'It's red, but it's not bleeding. You will not die.'

Goofs: 'No, I will never accept your apology! I hate you!'

Det. Mummy: 'I wonder if it would help the pain if we got your favourite Star Wars plaster on it...'

Goofs: 'I HATE YOU! YOU STUPID XXXX! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! I WANT TO LEAVE YOUR STUPID HOUSE RIGHT NOW' 

Det. Mummy (she starts to go to bathroom to get plasters). 'I am really sad you feel that way. I don't hate you, just the opposite. I love you very much!'

Goofs keeps his eyes closed so he doesn't have to look at her, but crawls closer to her, inch by inch until he is snuggled in safely in her arms. She sits down on the dining room floor, scoops him up like a baby. They remain in that position for the next 25 minutes until his sobbing stops. Fade to black...

End of Act I.

Act II:

Scene 1: same location, Det. Mummy and Goofs sitting on the floor, fish and chips in the oven starting to burn.

Det. Mummy: 'This feels really good, sitting here with mummy, her arms around you and she is keeping you safe.' (Goofs just nods quietly). 'I can see you are having lots of big feelings in your tummy right now.' (another nod) 'I wonder if you are really angry with me or with JaneDoe...' (silence) 'I wonder if your feeling cold earlier reminded you of your time with JaneDoe when she couldn't keep you safe and you felt really really scared around her...' (nodding returns) 'Maybe you weren't even angry with this mummy, but the other mummy?'

Goofs: (whispering, still not looking at her but looking at the scratch mark on his arm) 'No, I am angry with YOU! You hurt me on purpose! (and crying starts again)

Det. Mummy: 'No, you know it is not true. It was an accident and I apologised. I would never hurt you! This mummy can and will always keep you safe!' (he keeps focusing on the scar) 'I am wondering if you keep looking at the scratch mark because it helps you stay mad at me?'

Goofs: 'Yes! I still don't think I can forgive you...ever! You hurt me, just like JaneDoe did! Can I get that plaster now?' 

Scene 2: in the bathroom, selecting a couple of fun plasters, just to be safe.

Goofs: 'Well, I see there will be no bedtime story for me today.'

Det. Mummy: 'Hmm... Let me ask you this, do you think your bad afternoon has something to do with this assumption?'

Goofs: 'Actually, it was not just a bad afternoon, mummy. I had a bad day from the beginning!'

Det Mummy: (her brain working hard to detect the connections and then... the light bulb moment!) 'I am wondering if you behaved badly this morning because you were cold?' (he is nodding, so she continues her detective deduction work) 'I think you assumed daddy will drive you like he did a day before so you thought you don't need a jumper. (more nodding and a quick look at her face) 'But he made you walk and then you felt cold without a jumper, but perhaps you felt upset with yourself but didn't know how to say it or get out of this situation so you panicked and started to 'act out' and...'

Goof: 'yes, and so my whole day was ruined, I didn't win in archery, but then they had the water fight and I knew I don't have extra clothes...'

Det. Mummy: '...but it looked like fun so you joined in because you assumed it's Friday and daddy usually picks you up with the car on Fridays...'

Goofs: 'yes, but then you came and you said we have to walk and...' (starts sobbing again.) 

Det. Mummy envelopes him in her arms again and starts making funny faces in the mirror. Moments later Goofs joins in and soon they are having a good time together.

Det. Mummy: 'I am so sorry I scratched you. Can you please forgive me?'

Goofs: (still laughing) 'Oh, I forgave you a long time ago!'

Det. Mummy: 'Oh, thank you. You say it was a long time ago?'

Goofs: 'Of course, mummy! I just didn't forgive you when I was mad. When I am happy I always forgive you!'

Det. Mummy: 'That's good to hear. Maybe you can also apologise to me...' 

Goofs: (turns around so he can face her) 'I am really sorry for my bad behaviour and for calling you stupid! You are my cleverestest mummy and I love you very much!'

Det. Mummy: 'I love you too, my son!' 

Goofs: 'So, can I go and watch the end of the film?'

Det. Mummy: 'Sadly no, remember? You still haven't done your homework.'

Goofs: 'You know what? It's actually fine with me. I got to sit with you all evening, it's way better than a film!'

Det. Mummy smiles back at him, but it's a bitter sweet smile. Discipline is important. Therapeutic parenting is even more important. Having consequences for bad behaviour is needed. Unconditional love and attunement is needed even more! According to Dan Hughes children who experienced loss and trauma need to experience comfort and joy to heal. In a twisted way of events, accidentally hurting Goofs turned out to be the reason for him to experience comfort afterwards. Yes, it was horrible as my hurting him fit into his distorted view of mothers and the fact that they hurt him. Yes, the scratch mark will be visible for a few days, but if his behaviour this morning is any indication, (when he saw me his very first words to me were 'Mummy, I am so sorry for my bad behaviour yesterday, I love you very much!) I think we are both on the mend...

The End 

Meeting Birth Mum...

The most dreaded meeting of my life was finally happening. We knew that at one point this meeting might happen, but we were hoping Social Services might deem it unsafe and cancel it. It got postponed a few times, but today we actually had to shake hands with that woman.

I have read a lot about how you guys felt during this super awkward meeting, but it's like with so many things in our Big Adoption Reality (BAR): knowing it and experiencing it is so very different! When we read the children's CPR there was no picture of her, but her life was there in great detail. Yes, she was in care herself; yes, she was very unlucky always getting mixed up with the wrong crowd; yes she was in a wrong place at the wrong time; yes, she has made several poor choices. BUT no, none of these justify why she was abusive towards her own children, why she inflicted physical and emotional pain on her little ones; no,  none of these are good enough reasons why she constantly refused help from Social Services. I can see her as a victim, too, don't get me wrong. But sharing a cuppa with her, having a very pleasant conversation with her, chatting and laughing about MY children... well, HER children... well, OUR children - you get the idea that it was very confusing, right?

We got there before she arrived. Oddly nobody thought about the sign in book we had to fill in. What's the point in being all secretive about names and locations if we put all our details into that book only for her to see it when she arrives a minute later??? So I signed us in as Mickey and Minnie Mouse. I doubt anybody noticed... We were sitting in a conference room with our SW and my pre-approved questions. The children's SW walked in and THE Mother was behind her. To be honest, we had no idea what to expect. Based on the description and the horror she inflicted on her children I did not expect such a meek, polite and pleasant woman, just the opposite. But she looked just like Goofs! I could have picked her from a line of 100 almost identical women! My brain still doesn't compute that the woman sitting in front of me is the same who caused all that trauma to the boys...

She was very civilised and we went along with it. She had a few questions about the boys and we responded sometimes in greater detail, sometimes in vague terms. She was very pleased to hear I signed up the boys to their respective after-school clubs, because she thought both were gifted in those respective areas. We did talk to her about some of the activities we did with them since they moved in and she said 'I am so glad they get to experience those with you, sadly I couldn't offer those opportunities for them.' I know I was supposed to feel compassionate about all that, but I kept thinking I spent only 50p on the pumpkin he carved for Halloween, she had spent a lot more on the pan she used to hit him with! We always have choices!

Sitting there listening to her stories felt very weird. She came across as a person, who KNOWS of the birth mother of my boys, not as somebody who IS the birth mother herself. I suppose that is her way of coping with this tragedy of loosing her children. She emotionally distanced herself from everything that happened and created her own new history in which they were a very happy family of X and everything was peachy. I honestly didn't expect her to say 'I was a rubbish mother' or anything along those lines, but I think I could have liked her a bit if she said something like 'I tried, but...' and gave me excuses. Choosing to focus only on the good bits is something I totally get and even admire in my/her/our boys, but for the boys it was the only way to survive those years while she is now conveniently forgets that she was responsible for most of the bad stuff!

Hubby and I managed to keep our cool and ask all the usual questions from the story of their unusual first names to their favourite foods and toys as babies and toddlers. She even talked about the father quite a lot. We did have moments when she shared something about one of the boys and I was smiling and nodding saying 'yes, he still does that' and vica versa. I said something funny and she added 'he was always like that, he got it from X'. The only time I almost lost it was when she admitted 'they witnessed some bad bits, but I am hopeful they won't remember any of it'. This was after we had said something about Snoops remembering a ball being kicked over his head when he was younger and BM said that his father had done that when Snoops had been 6 months old.

A few weeks ago after a very upsetting day Snoops decided it was time he shared stuff with me about her. The poor kid was shaking from top to bottom as he struggled to utter the words, he was choking on his own tears as he recalled some of the horror she subjected him to.

I so wanted to scream at her: 'Bloody hell, woman, did you just listen to your words??? They both remember every tiny detail! Of course they do! Why do you think they both have night terrors every night? Why do you think they are in constant flight/fight mode? Why do you think they have massive anxieties, challenging behaviour or lack of trust towards anyone? Why do they need years of therapy? Why do you think they HATE you? Because they remember! You created this alternate reality where you are all fine, but I have to pick up the pieces every single time! They are nasty to ME, violent towards us because YOU screwed them up!'

But I just sat there quietly looking at her. I thought if I loose it now chances are good she will contest the whole adoption process again. Instead I told her we will make sure the boys won't forget about her. She said thank you. We took a picture of the 3 of us, shook hands and she left. Hours later the children's SW called to say she thinks I was brilliant. Apparently BM is very pleased with us and how well the boys are settled. She also thinks we are wonderful and she promised not to contest the adoption order. So, was it worth it? Definitely. Will I be able to explain the boys why she couldn't keep them safe? I don't think so...

Birth Mum's contesting...

We did expect it. We were prepared. Or so I thought...

Things were progressing so well. Met the Foster Carer a few times, exchanged notes with the medical advisor, visited school, SAW THE BOYS from a distance, sorted out adoption leave cover for my work place and then BOOM. 1 phone call from the SW and suddenly everything was on hold...

Suddenly everybody was asking me how do I feel. Some assumed I was angry, some thought I was disappointed or sad or even devastated. I guess, I did have those feelings, too. But thanks to this wonderful community on Twitter I was overwhelmed with encouragement and positive messages from strangers whom I never met, yet I felt the closest to already. Adopters who have been there, done that sent me messages and hearing their stories my initial negative attitude was transformed into one of feeling sorry for Her. I also gained a whole new appreciation for Her as a mother who was not giving up on her children without a fight! When I shared these thoughts with our SW she was very impressed (and probably relieved that she didn't have to give a motivational speech or pick me up from the floor). She more or less assured us that BM won't be able to get her children back, but we can't assume anything so we need to wait it out.

We expected the court date to happen soon, but sadly the judge picked a date in April, which was still a month away. This meant the boys would definitely not move in with us during the Easter break as originally hoped. Despite the encouraging news that the judge didn't ask for a re-assessment on BM we were naturally anxious and irrationally worried. I say irrationally because all the evidence, practice and really, common sense dictated that there was NO WAY the children would return to Her home and stay safe. But I couldn't think rationally. My mind went into panic mode and the 'What ifs' took over.

The weeks dragged on slowly and finally the dreaded Friday arrived. Needless to say I couldn't focus on work or on anything, really. The only think I could think of was the fact that in these very moments a judge is making a decision ABOUT MY LIFE and I can't even be there to hear it, let alone contribute. I know, the judge was not even considering me at that moment, just assessing BM, but still; if the decision is for the boys to be adopted, chances are very good they will come to us thus it will influence the rest of my life. On the other hand if she decides the children should stay in the Fostering system, in a sense they will be unavailable for us, prospective adopters... Not helpful thoughts!

A whole day was blocked out so we expected a decision to be made on the same day. By 2 pm I was sufficiently full of chocolate (forever grateful for an amazing colleague who constantly fed me sweets all day!) I was in the middle of a telephone conversation, when my mobile phone rang. I saw the name; it was my SW calling. I only said 'hello' to the phone when she started: 'Good news, I have good news. Hi, it's me calling.' I will always love her for not beating around the bush and she just said it right away!

And suddenly the mind returned to the rational reality... But of course the plan is still adoption. Who in their sane mind thought the children would be returned to BM? No judge would have ruled that in a million years! So, the plan is still adoption and we are still the only family considered!

We shared the outcome with out friends and naturally they assumed we were over the moon. Yes, we were very pleased with the decision, but I couldn't help feel sad for Her. She  put up a good fight; she believed that she had made sufficient changes in her life and she genuinely believed she can have her children back. Deep down I wish that was the case! I wish these two lovelies could grow up with their loving birth mother, because that is how it should be. But sadly that's not in their best interest and they wouldn't be safe. It will be MY job to keep them safe!

FeelingDadYet (a.k.a my lovely husband and always the practical one) celebrated by buying 2 children's beds! :)