This blog post, written by Lisa Mainwaring – journalist, broadcaster, communications professional, and adoptive mum of two – is part of our WAF Education Support Programme, an online toolkit designed to equip families with the knowledge and resources to navigate the education system. Drawing on her personal and professional experience, Lisa explores the realities of adoption poverty, the hidden costs of raising children affected by early trauma, and the need for systems that truly understand and support adoptive families.
When we first adopted, I naively imagined the system would sweep in, clipboard in hand, and wrap us in a blanket of professional wisdom. Instead, it felt like being dropped in a maze with no map, no snacks, and someone shouting, “Just fill out the form!” from far away.
The truth is, once the ink dries on the adoption order, you often find yourself navigating a jungle of acronyms EHCP, CAMHS, DLA, ASGSF, and wondering if you’ve accidentally joined the civil service.
Note: This guide covers post-adoption support in England, including education, therapeutic funding, and benefits available to adoptive families.
This isn’t a guide to fixing that system. It’s a guide to surviving it, preferably with your sense of humour (and marriage) intact.
1. Do a benefits check, even if you think you’re not eligible
Let’s talk money, everyone’s favourite dinner-party topic, right?
I know so many adopters who’ve had to reduce their hours, step back from promotions, or walk away from thriving careers entirely because their children’s needs have escalated beyond what a normal working week can handle. I’ve met teachers, lawyers and accountants who’ve quietly become full-time advocates, trauma specialists and professional form-fillers, all unpaid, naturally.
Adoption poverty isn’t something people talk about much, but it’s real. The Belay Foundation coined the term last year after research found that many adopters are re-mortgaging their homes, draining savings, and working well into their 70s because they’re still supporting their children into adulthood. So if you take one thing from this, let it be: maximise your income early, don’t wait until you’re in crisis.
A common misconception is that if you’re working, you can’t get benefits such as Universal Credit (UC) or Disability Living Allowance (DLA). Not true.
Universal Credit is means-tested, which means your entitlement depends on your household income and circumstances, not just whether you’re employed. Many parents who work full-time still qualify because their wages don’t stretch far enough to cover essential costs. It’s designed to top up your income to a minimum level, adjusting as your earnings change.
In fact, around 40% of people on UC are working, which tells you everything you need to know. If your income is modest or your rent is high, it’s worth checking.
DLA, meanwhile, is not means-tested. It’s based entirely on your child’s care and/or mobility needs, not your income, diagnosis or whether your child has an EHCP. Many adopted children qualify because of developmental trauma, ADHD, sensory difficulties, or emotional-regulation issues.
Here’s how it breaks down:
- Care component
- Lower rate – £28.70 per week
- Middle rate – £72.65 per week
- Higher rate – £108.55 per week
- Mobility component
- Lower rate – £28.70 per week
- Higher rate – £75.75 per week
If your child receives DLA, you might also be able to claim the Carer’s Element of Universal Credit, even if you don’t qualify for the main benefit yourself. It’s a small but important nod to the time and energy you put in every day, the therapies, the meetings, the meltdowns and the emotional heavy-lifting.
Right, here’s my top DLA tip.
When you apply, ring the DWP and ask them to send you a DLA paper form. That form will arrive with a date stamp on it, which is important. It means your payments can be backdated to that date if your application is successful. Now, don’t just sit and wait for it to arrive. Go to the DWP website, download a PDF version of the form and start filling it in straight away. It’s a beast of a form; we’re talking epic trilogy length, and it took me a few weeks of chipping away each evening to complete mine. It asks for mountains of detail and evidence, so pace yourself and make notes as you go. Go to the Belay Foundation website to download a step-by-step guide to help you fill in the form. It costs about £25, but believe me, that few quid will save your sanity completing the form.
When the paper form finally lands on your doormat, pop that date-stamped front page on top of your printed version and post it all back together to the DWP. That way, your claim is safely linked to the original date you called, and your payment will be backdated accordingly. You’ve got six weeks from the date of your call to return it, so don’t lose track; it’s worth potentially six weeks of backdated money.
It may take the DWP a few months (or a small eternity) to make a decision, but hang tight. When it arrives, that money will help, trust me. Between therapy gear, incontinence nappies, endless snacks, and the electricity bill from your washing machine doing more spins than Strictly Come Dancing, you’ll be glad you applied.
Note: When your child turns 16, DLA transitions into Personal Independence Payment (PIP), though this may change. The Government’s Timms Review, launched in autumn 2025, is re-examining how PIP assessments work and whether the transition from DLA at such a young age is working. Some proposals suggest reforms could start from 2027, depending on legislation. So for now, your child will probably still move from DLA to PIP at 16, but it’s worth keeping an eye on DWP updates for news on when the new rules take effect.
And don’t forget, previously looked after children (PLAC) are automatically eligible for the Holiday Activities and Food (HAF) programme, even if they don’t get Free School Meals. Many councils also offer fuel vouchers through the Household Support Fund, often extended to PLAC families. It’s a small recognition that adopted children tend to come with higher needs. You just need to get the code off your SENCO.
Finally, remember that Turn2us offers not just a Benefits Calculator but also a Grants Search tool to help you find charitable grants tailored to carers, families and people with disabilities. Think of it as a secret menu for financial help; you just have to know where to look.
In short, working doesn’t mean you’re excluded from help.
Use those tools or contact Citizens Advice for guidance. There’s no medal for struggling silently, and you’ll thank yourself later for sorting the finances before the next round of paperwork lands on your kitchen table.
2. CAMHS, the ASGSF and finding the right kind of help
When your child needs therapeutic support, there are two main routes to help: CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) through the NHS, and the Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund (ASGSF). In theory, they complement each other. In practice, they can feel like two entirely different worlds.
The ASGSF is the government fund that helps pay for trauma-informed therapy including play therapy, Theraplay, Dyadic Developmental Psychotherapy (DDP), sensory integration, and therapeutic parenting support. It can also fund a specialist or multidisciplinary assessment to identify what kind of therapy your child actually needs.
In April 2025 the government reduced the Fair Access Limit from £5,000 to £3,000 per child per year. That amount now has to cover both therapy and assessments. So if your child needs a full assessment before therapy begins, much of that money disappears before you even start.
It is frustrating, but do not give up. Keep applying and reapplying, and ask your therapist to provide detailed reports showing the difference therapy is making. Keep your paperwork. Keep emailing. Keep breathing. Persistence really can pay off.
If your child is struggling, ask for a multidisciplinary assessment as early as you can. It is the best way to understand their sensory, emotional, developmental and educational needs. The ASGSF can fund this type of assessment, but remember that it comes out of the same £3,000 limit, so you may need to prioritise carefully. A proper assessment early on can save you years of guesswork and frustration.
Alongside the ASGSF, speak to your GP about a referral to CAMHS. This is the NHS mental health service for children and young people and it is organised into different levels of support.
Tier 1 and Tier 2 cover mild to moderate emotional or behavioural difficulties, often supported by school counsellors, educational psychologists or community services.
Tier 3 is more specialist, for children with complex or longer-term needs. This is where you will find trauma-informed psychologists, psychotherapists and psychiatrists who can offer structured, ongoing support.
Tier 4 is for children with the most severe or high-risk needs who may require intensive or inpatient care.
If your child is accepted into Tier 3 CAMHS, it can be life changing. It is not a quick fix, and the waiting lists can feel endless, but once your child is in the system they can access longer-term support from professionals who understand trauma and attachment. Tier 3 often includes access to psychiatrists, psychologists and family therapists who can work alongside schools and other agencies.
If you are trying to access post-adoption support services in England, CAMHS and the Adoption Support Fund (ASGSF) are the main routes to therapeutic help.
It is important to know that the trauma pathway within CAMHS sits under the mental health framework, not the neurodevelopmental one. The referral process for trauma is completely separate from the pathway for ASD or ADHD, which focus on diagnosis rather than therapy. When you speak to your GP, describe your child’s challenges using trauma language. Use phrases such as “attachment difficulties,” “trauma history,” or “emotional dysregulation.” This helps ensure your referral reaches the right team.
If you suspect your child may be affected by Foetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD), it can be even harder to get help. FASD diagnosis is not routinely funded by the NHS in most areas and there are very few specialist services. One NHS clinic in Surrey does accept referrals from across the country, but most families either wait a long time or go private. Private assessments can cost several thousand pounds. It is still worth pursuing because FASD is not just a behavioural condition. It is associated with a wide range of physical and neurological difficulties, such as problems with vision, hearing, the heart, kidneys and bone development.
If you think FASD might be part of your child’s story, ask your GP or paediatrician for a referral for a multidisciplinary assessment that includes medical, neurological, sensory and developmental checks. Make sure they know you are not only looking for behavioural support but also medical understanding.
Neither route is easy. The ASGSF provides trauma-specific support for a short window, while CAMHS Tier 3 can offer longer-term help but is already bursting at the seams. Yet, in their wisdom, the government chose this moment to cut the ASGSF just as CAMHS is struggling to meet record levels of need. You almost have to admire the logic. Perhaps they want to really test how far the NHS can stretch before it snaps. Or perhaps they still believe trauma is something you can cuddle out of a child if you just love them hard enough.
What we actually need is lived experience in the room when these decisions are made: parents, carers, adoptees and professionals who understand what trauma looks like in real life. Until policy is shaped by the people living it, we will keep repeating the same cycle of short-term fixes and long-term fallout.
The system may be flawed, but the people in it are extraordinary. The parents, the therapists, the peer groups, the teachers who try their best. And whichever ladder you find yourself climbing, whether it is ASGSF or CAMHS, do not climb it alone. Reach out to your We Are Family group. There will always be another parent ready to throw down a hand, a biscuit and a reminder that you are doing better than you think.
3. School: your new second job
If you want to understand your child’s needs, start with their school. And be warned: once you open this door, you might find yourself with a whole new part-time career in education law, diplomacy and biscuit consumption.
Your first ally (or obstacle) will be the SENCO, the Special Educational Needs Coordinator. A good SENCO can be worth their weight in gold. They know the system, they act quickly, and they communicate like a human being. A bad one, however, can leave you wondering if they think “trauma-informed” is a yoga pose. If you get the latter, deep breaths and persistence will be your best friends.
Explain what you are seeing at home, concentration problems, anxiety, emotional outbursts, social struggles, and ask what support can be put in place. Many children can access small-group interventions, sensory breaks or one-to-one help through the school’s Ordinarily Available Provision. These can make a real difference, even without an official plan.
That said, if your child’s needs go beyond what the school can provide from its own budget, you may need an EHCP, an Education, Health and Care Plan. Think of it as your child’s legal safety net. It secures support in law and names a school placement. An EHCP is based on need, not on diagnosis, so you do not need a label to apply. You can make a parental request for an assessment yourself, and schools must consider a request made by you or by them. In theory, the statutory process takes 20 weeks, although in practice, that clock runs on what I call “local authority time”, which is a little more… flexible.
If that all feels like too much, contact SENDIASS (the Special Educational Needs and Disabilities Information, Advice and Support Service). They offer brilliant, free advice and will talk you through the law, your rights and what to do if the school politely pretends it cannot help.
Getting an Educational Psychologist (EP) assessment can feel a bit like trying to book Beyoncé tickets. There are very few of them, and you will not get the one you want. Do not be discouraged. Some schools can commission advisory teachers or request partial EP involvement to get the ball rolling. Even a short assessment can help you gather evidence for future support.
A small but heartfelt warning: do not pay private “experts” to help with your EHCP for you. I know from bitter and bank-draining experience that there is an entire cottage industry out there promising the world for a four-figure fee. Some professionals are excellent, but many are simply very confident with clipboards.
Instead, reach out to SENDIASS, local charities, or advocacy services that help families for free. They genuinely want to help, not invoice you. And do not underestimate the wisdom within your own community. Parents in your We Are Family group have been exactly where you are. They will tell you what worked, what did not, and exactly how many chocolate Hobnobs it takes to get through an annual review.
If you do decide to go for an EHCP, remember it is a marathon, not a sprint. Keep notes, keep calm, and keep snacks. You will need all three. But it is worth it. An EHCP is the most effective way to secure consistent, legally binding support for your child, and that piece of paper can change everything.
4. Make the Pupil Premium Plus work for your child
Every school in England receives an extra £2,400 per year for every adopted child through Pupil Premium Plus (PPP) funding. In theory, this money is meant to help schools meet the additional social, emotional and educational needs of children who have experienced early adversity. In practice, it can vanish faster than your energy on a Monday morning.
Here’s how it works. When a child is Looked After (LAC), meaning still in local authority care, their PPP funding is ring-fenced. It is held by the Virtual School Head and can only be spent on that child, for targeted support agreed through their Personal Education Plan. Once the adoption order goes through, that money goes directly to the school’s main budget (go figure). It is no longer ring-fenced, and while schools are legally required to show how they use it to improve outcomes for previously looked-after children (known as PLAC), they do not have to spend it individually on your child.
The school must publish on its website how it spends all its Pupil Premium funding and the impact it has on learning. The Virtual School Head for your local authority also has a strategic role in making sure PPP is used properly for adopted and previously looked-after children. They can be a powerful ally if you are getting nowhere with the school.
So yes, you have every right to ask, kindly but firmly, how that money is being used to meet your child’s needs. You are not being awkward. You are being accountable. Ask to see the school’s Pupil Premium strategy statement (they are legally required to have one), and ask for specific examples of how your child benefits from it.
I know from experience that some schools are brilliant at this, using the funding for trauma-informed training, emotion coaching, sensory equipment or learning mentors. Others go very quiet when you ask, which is funny, given how loud they can be about “parental engagement” when it’s cake sale season.
If your emails go unanswered, keep at it. Copy in the Virtual School Head or the Designated Teacher for previously looked-after children. Keep your tone polite but persistent. Think of yourself as a slightly weary but determined detective following the trail of the missing PPP. Eventually, someone will respond.
When the system works, PPP can make a real difference, small adjustments that help your child feel safer, calmer and more able to learn. When it doesn’t, persistence and a well-timed nudge from the Virtual School can work wonders.
5. Find your tribe
At first, I felt completely alone. Friends with birth children meant well, but they didn’t understand why my son’s “tantrum” at a birthday party ended with him curled in a corner, hands over his ears, shaking. When I tried to explain trauma triggers, I’d get: “Oh yes, my Harry’s exactly like that when he’s tired.”
He isn’t.
They’ve never watched their child tip into full-blown panic because a balloon popped, not because it was loud, but because somewhere deep in his body, the sound felt like danger. They’ve never had to crouch on the floor at 7 a.m., holding a hyper-aroused and sobbing child because his sibling touched his cereal bowl, and his brain registered threat, not inconvenience.
They don’t know what it’s like to see your child go from laughing to blank, that thousand-yard stare when he’s flooded with adrenaline and disappears into freeze. Or to sit on the edge of the playground, heart-breaking, because your child can’t join a game without an adult beside him to keep his nervous system tethered.
Everything changed when I joined a We Are Family peer group. Suddenly, I wasn’t the only one writing bedtime scripts to keep my child’s body safe enough to sleep. These are the people who get it, who speak fluent “amygdala”, who can decode fight-flight-freeze before the first scream. They’ll make you laugh when you want to cry, remind you you’re not mad, and tell you you’re doing brilliantly, even when it’s only 9 am and the day already feels 12 hours long.
6. Learn the art of therapeutic parenting
Therapeutic parenting is equal parts empathy, detective work, and endurance. You’ll learn that what looks like defiance is often fear in disguise. You’ll also learn that sometimes, the most helpful response is a deep breath and a packet of crisps in the car park.
Courses from Beacon House, Zach Gomm, The Belay Foundation, or DDP Connect UK can help you put theory into practice. And remember when you feel angry, be angry at the system, not the child. They’re not giving you a hard time; they’re having a hard time.
7. Advocate like a professional (and keep a sense of humour)
You will become fluent in a new language, one that includes phrases like “trauma-informed provision,” “statutory duty,” and “multi-agency coordination.”
Meetings can feel intimidating, but don’t be afraid to speak up. You know your child best. And if all else fails, remember: the quiet parent with the colour-coded folder usually wins.
Keep a “paper trail of sanity”, every email, every phone call, every “we’ll get back to you.” Bureaucracies forget, but paper remembers.
8. Practise radical self-care
You cannot pour from an empty cup, especially when your cup is also filling out EHCP paperwork at 2 am. Burnout is real. Many adopters develop chronic stress symptoms because their nervous systems have been running at “code red” for years.
Book respite if it’s offered. Ask for help without guilt. Take a walk, even if it’s just to the end of the street. Therapy for you isn’t indulgent; it’s essential maintenance.
And when you do finally sit down, pour the good coffee. You’ve earned it.
9. Share your story, it’s healing
Talking helps. Whether it’s over coffee with another adopter, at a WAF event, or in a WhatsApp chat at midnight, sharing what’s hard lightens the load.
I said on the WAF podcast that “sharing is healing, isn’t it?” It’s true. The more we speak up, the less isolated we feel, and the more likely the next new adopter will know where to start.
10. Remember what’s really broken, and what isn’t
The system can be confusing, inconsistent, and occasionally ridiculous. But you? You’re doing extraordinary work.
You’re not failing. You’re parenting in conditions that would test a saint. You’re juggling trauma, bureaucracy, and bedtime stories about Nutmeg Gets Adopted, often all before 9 am.
So when you’re up late filling out another form or fighting another funding decision, remind yourself: the system might be creaking, but your family isn’t. You are building something solid, loving, and lasting, despite the chaos around you.
If you take one thing away, let it be this:
You are not just surviving the system. You’re quietly rewriting it, one determined, exhausted, gloriously imperfect day at a time.
And somewhere out there, another parent is raising a mug of tea to you, whispering, “You’re doing enough.”
FAQs
What post-adoption support is available in England?: Adoptive families in England can access support through CAMHS, the Adoption Support Fund (ASGSF), EHCPs, and financial help like DLA, PIP and Pupil Premium Plus.
How do I check my benefits eligibility in England?
Use the Turn2us Benefits Calculator to see what social security you can claim.
What does the Adoption Support Fund cover?
The ASGSF funds trauma-informed therapy and assessments for adopted and special guardianship children in England, up to £3,000 per child per year.
About the author:
Lisa Mainwaring is a journalist, broadcaster, communications professional, and adoptive mum of two boys who keep her humble, tired, and permanently caffeinated. She works part-time for the anti-poverty charity Turn2us and is passionate about exposing the policy gaps that leave adoptive families facing adoption poverty; the financial and emotional gymnastics of raising children affected by early trauma. Lisa shines a light on the messy, hopeful, occasionally hilarious reality of therapeutic parenting and the system that really needs to catch up. She believes in strong coffee, dark humour, and the power of community to change things (or at least survive them).
