(Monday 28th September 2015)
How did we move so quickly and so far in the space of one week?
On one Friday, we met our nieces for the first time in about 20 months (they had been so young when we last met that they had probably forgotten who we were). Even though we had held each of these girls on the day that they were born, celebrated occasions with them, had had contact with them, it felt like we were truly meeting them for the first time; most likely because we were not meeting them as an aunt and uncle but as prospective parents who had been fighting for them all year. In the week that followed we spent a good deal of time with them and on the next Friday, they slept over at our house and seemed quite happy with the idea of moving in with us forever.
I cannot quite get my head around it.
At our first contact visit in a park with the caseworker, I had some fears reassured. The picture I had begun to form in my head from the carer’s emails was of two hyperactive, impossible to manage, maniacal ‘monsters’. What a relief when I met these girls to realise that they were just children! They clearly liked us and responded well to us, and thankfully, all of the children seemed to get along fine. Over the course of the other visits, I found that their behaviour was not impossible to manage; in fact, our nieces presented me with no challenge that I had not encountered amongst my on children. Miss A and Miss L immediately called us ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’ and they are affectionate. I had been warned that they had “attachment issues” but now I am not sure if that is the real issue.
Since that first visit I came to understand that some of my concerns were valid. How will we cope? How will we give all of the children enough attention? How will we deal with the “special” needs of our foster children?
Tomorrow we will be going to pick up our nieces. Our new daughters. In the three nights since they returned to their carer, Daddy Duck and I could not help but relish the time with just our original children, Mr E and Miss R. Suddenly they seem so sweet, so lovely. Resilient and mature. Normal. These children who have driven me to dark days at times now seem easy. They are happy to sleep in, start the day with cuddles, eat when I get around to preparing their food. If I skip afternoon tea they do not seem to notice, whereas Miss A complains constantly of hunger. With my own children, I can yell occasionally but all is forgiven quickly because they know that they are loved. It will not be so simple with our foster daughters. The first time I “lose it” with one of them, how will they recover? Not to mention that I will always worry that Community Services is looking over my shoulder. I am basically their employee.
This next chapter of our lives is scary and exciting. We felt compelled to pursue this path because we believed that it was the right thing to do for our nieces. I still feel that way. Whether it will be the right thing for us is a different story.
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