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We Are Family

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Category:
Birth family

20 posts in this category

Get Real

'I thought these are your real parents, no?' 

'So you are not real brother and sister then?' 

I guess most adopters have experienced questions such as these being asked of us or our children at some point. It's frustrating to say the least and at worse it can feel insulting and indeed be quite painful, even so I am surprised at some adopters reaction to it. 

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Bedtime Stories

....I’d share some of the books that have helped our family along the way as we wrestled with tangled feelings and attachments, not adoption books per se, just beautiful stories. So, this is not exactly a review, not exactly a blog, just some thoughts on the healing power of story. 

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Letterbox contact is here again

Oh no - the pressure of having to do letterbox contact is here again!

Every six months, I feel the stress and pressure rise the closer it gets to letter box exchange. 

It’s like going to the dentist to get a filling when all I’ve rather be doing is …. well...anything else. Absolutely anything else! 

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Dear Grandparents.

Dear Grandparents.

Being the birth mum it seems that people simply put all the blame on your daughter, even the birth dad gets overlooked by most - regardless of the obvious fact that he failed our sons just as much as a parent.

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12 Blogs under the Christmas tree #8

It's the first Christmas we have officially been a family of 4. Last year we had a court date in December that we had hoped would finalise the adoption, but a tiny overlooked detail meant that the judge deferred the decision until January. It wasn't what we had hoped for, but he was still with us and as far as we were concerned he was one of us. It just wasn't official yet.

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Letter Box Contact

Yearly letter box contact has been agreed and we diligently get the boys to write Christmas cards for birth Mummy and Daddy - regardless of indifference from our oldest and huge resistance from his younger brother - in addition we put pen to paper and write a letter updating them on the boys past year.

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Dear Son

The fact that you are not my flesh and blood I find endless fascinating. I know what your mother looks like and I see her freckled auburn beauty in your face. We don’t know what your dad looked like, but I have a sense of it. The colour of your skin, and your curly hair for starters. Yet in the end whatever they gave you, you are you. A world upon itself. I see my own mum and dad in my flesh, and more so as I age, but you are so different to those genes. So I see you. And it makes me curious precisely about you. And what you are all about.

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Dear birth daughter

I'll admit, love, that I’ve always found ‘the baby game’ irritating. The game you most often ask me to play with you, usually at the most inconvenient times. A game I didn’t really understand, or the fascination it held for you. At 10-years old, and nearly as tall as me, you’d want to be a helpless, mewling, wriggling little thing, while your adopted sister, although five years younger, was assigned the ‘teenage babysitter’ role or, if she protested too much, a twin baby to you, but one that was ‘smart’, and could ‘do more’ – the one that didn’t need so much attention.

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8 and counting

We adopted two brothers who we knew to be part of a sibling group of 5.

We were later to discover that in fact there was an additional, older half sister (paternal), as she lived with her mother she had nothing to do with social services or indeed us.

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