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About Me

Hi,


I’m a 52 year old white woman who grew up mainly in London. I started going to local under 18’s discos at around 14 and fell in love with black music and went on to become a club promoter before crossing over into other areas of music including live and management. I married my gorgeous black British hubby in 2010 after 4 years together (although we actually met when I was 19!). After various trials and tribulations, we adopted our mixed-race daughter, who came to live with us at 22months, on 28th May 2013.  


Adopting a child is a lot. Even in the very best cases, you are taking on a child who will already have experienced (whether remembered or not) huge loss and trauma. Read ‘The Primal Wound’ to understand how just being separated from the person who carried you in the womb, impacts a baby. 


This is our story; how we navigate this unknown terrain to allow our daughter to process her feelings and grow into such a compassionate, emotionally intelligent, wise individual that people frequently comment on it. I am starting in the present (Angel is 9) and will share as things unfold but also plan to go back and fill in some of what has been before.


It's BIG; big feelings, big learning curves, big love and it’s the most difficult and rewarding thing I’ve ever done.  There’s no gloss here and I will, for the most part, be talking about the difficulties as these are the times I find it most therapeutic to write. It’s  also what I think will be most helpful for other parents of adopted kids, or parents in general, grappling with how to manage big feelings. 


Someone wise once said ‘You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf’


I’m looking forward to sharing our journey  (-:


xx


PS. All names have been changed to protect our child's privacy. 

PPS. I’d love to hear if you find the blog helpful.


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Popular posts from this blog

In The Cut

So, been thinking for a while about sharing our story of adoption in the hope that it might help other families and because it is such an incredible journey, it feels somehow important to document. Maybe one day it will also be important for our daughter who shall remain anonymous as this is her story too and she may not want to share it. I’ll call her Angel as we called her our ‘angel child’ for the first six months of her time with us, knowing full well that as soon as she felt safe enough, a more fully rounded two-year old would emerge. She was also referred to as an ‘angel child’ by her birth mum and dad who had lost a previous pregnancy and so were very grateful when they fell pregnant with her.  Angel is 9 and will be 10 in July. Right now we are what I call ‘in the cut’. We have just come out of our longest spell of equilibrium (about 3 months) and I felt a new baseline of her self-worth had been reached. It probably has but when the wound opens up, it’s incredible how deep it g

Hidden Anger

  We are playing with dolls in her room. We are both mums and Angel is changing baby Annabel. She tells me she adopted baby Annabel because she was ‘too much for her birth parents’. ‘Really?’, I say, ‘I’m sure it wasn’t that she was ‘ too much’ . She was just a baby and babies really only sleep, eat and poo.’ She giggles at the poo word (still!). ‘I’m sure it was more about where they were at in their lives rather than anything baby Annabel did.’ ‘Ummm’ she says. We carry on playing.    Hubby goes with Angel on a school trip to a farm. He is alarmed to see her breakdown sobbing when a much smaller kid shouts at her for jumping on a wood pile where he is trying to dig a hole. It’s a very big woodpile, no malicious intent was meant and the kid is basically being a bit out of order but still Angel feels she has done something wrong. They talk about something called ‘toxic shame’ in the therapeutic parenting book I have been reading and how kids who have been looked after experience this b

Heart Day

  Today Angel was going on a school trip. They have been going to a farm every week for the last month. It's quite a drive (1.5hrs each way) and a long day as they don’t get back to school til 5pm. Hubby has been going on the trips but couldn't today and I couldn't go either. We told Angel Dad couldn't go on the weekend before the trip and she said she wouldn't go if he couldn’t. I talked about the film we had just watched in which a character says sometimes it's good to be brave and challenge ourselves and that maybe if she went, she will feel pleased after.  Angel - Well, how are you going to make me go? Me - Umm, I could say ‘no telly’ this weekend (she only gets telly on the weekend during term time) but I don’t want to make you go. I want to find a way that feels OK for you to go . Angel - I know you're going to make me go. Me - What could we do that would make it feel better to go? What about if I text your teacher and let him know that you are feeling