My partner and I had not tried for birth children. Instead, we wanted to provide an adoptive home to children who might otherwise never find one.
After a difficult experience with the placing local authority—which later faced serious criticism from the Ombudsman—we adopted two sibling children who were in mid-to-late primary school.
At first, there were positive signs:
One child settled well and made excellent progress. Parenting them felt rewarding.
The other child found relationships and family life more challenging but described our home as somewhere that felt safe.
However, as they reached their teenage years, things became significantly harder:
There was violence—towards us, each other, and our home.
Both children struggled with self-harm at different times.
One child responded well to therapy we arranged; the other did not engage.
One child thrived academically, while the other faced constant exclusions from school.
Oppositional and challenging behaviour became the norm. One child started going missing.
We were exhausted, out of ideas, and desperately needed help.
Asking for Support – And Being Ignored
We repeatedly contacted children’s services, asking for help. For months, we were ignored.
Then, one of our children made an allegation of abuse, and suddenly, children’s services acted. Both children were accommodated to give us all a break.
Our experience from that point onwards mirrored countless stories we have heard from other adopters through PATCH:
We were visited once in the twelve weeks following the disruption, despite repeatedly asking for support.
The allegation was deemed ‘unsubstantiated’, yet we sensed social workers didn’t believe us.
We were offered a basic parenting course, but even the trainer said it was not suitable for us, given our professional backgrounds.
When I pointed out the legal duty of the local authority to hold a disruption meeting, I was simply told: “We don’t do that here.”
Contact with our children was never encouraged and eventually faded away, partly due to the pandemic.
No effort was made to help us address the challenges that had led to the disruption.
Instead of support, we were judged.
Misrepresentation and Blame
It became clear that social workers were misrepresenting us, twisting facts to fit their own narrative:
We were accused of lying, even though there was no evidence we ever had.
They tried to claim we had refused the parenting course, when in reality, the trainer had said it was inappropriate for us.
I was criticised for physically separating my children during a violent fight, even though minimal force was used, and neither child was hurt.
We were expected to manage violent behaviours that schools themselves couldn’t handle, despite them resorting to exclusions.
At one point, limiting sweets was labelled ‘withholding food’ (later retracted).
Not allowing our child to spend unsupervised time with a peer involved with knives was deemed overprotective.
Complaints we made about school—validated by the school governors—were used against us, painting us as ‘difficult’ and ‘unreasonable’.
A therapist who worked with our child described us as ‘excellent parents’—this was completely ignored in all social work records.
What social workers failed to acknowledge was that our children’s difficulties were not caused by our parenting—they were the result of early abuse and neglect in their birth family.
The Court Process – A Broken System
With no effort made to rehabilitate our family, the children remained in foster care, where many of their difficulties continued or worsened.
The local authority then applied for care orders, following their policy of seeking court intervention rather than leaving children voluntarily accommodated—even if the children were nearing adulthood and parents were cooperating.
I had hoped the court would challenge the lack of support from children’s services. That didn’t happen.
The Children’s Guardian, who was very inexperienced, showed no professional curiosity—they simply echoed the social workers’ narrative.
The judge made it clear that his main priority was to deal with the case quickly, as court time was in high demand.
Since social workers couldn’t provide any evidence that we had harmed or neglected our children, care orders were made on the grounds that our children were ‘out of control’.
A System That Fails Families
Looking back, I strongly believe that children’s services:
Did not act in the best interests of either us or our children.
Made a difficult situation worse.
Blamed us rather than recognising the long-term effects of childhood trauma.
Because of my experiences, I could never recommend adoption to anyone.
What Needs to Change?
The PATCH community has countless stories like mine. The system does not just fail adopters—it fails children, birth families, and everyone caught in the middle.
If we truly want to support vulnerable children, we must do better:
Listen to adopters instead of blaming them.
Recognise the long-term effects of early trauma.
Provide real, meaningful support—not generic parenting courses or dismissive responses.
Stop prioritising process over people.
Too many families have been let down. It’s time for real change.
By Frank T