It was an afternoon in late Spring when my husband and I first met our grandchildren. We met in a local park play area and the sun was shining. Our grandson, five years old, and our granddaughter, two and a half, gave us a box on which they had drawn flowers and a picture of me. My husband and I brought it home on the bus and I sent the children a photograph of their grandfather on the bus with the box on his lap.
My husband and I were surprised how outgoing, ready to smile and pose for photographs our grandchildren were. From the way they had been described to our daughter and son in law we expected the children to be withdrawn and anxious.
Our daughter organised regular, frequent contact so that the children could get to know us. We often visited them in their home, being there when their Daddy returned home from work and sharing the family meal. There was one occasion I remember quite early on when the children’s welcome to their Daddy seemed almost too enthusiastic, as if they were acting a part that was expected of them rather than being able to feel genuine emotion. We also noticed that our grandson often didn’t respond when we chatted with him, especially if my husband tried to engage him in conversation. Our granddaughter sometimes mimicked speaking angrily and punching her dolls. Nevertheless I believed that with time and the therapeutic parenting my daughter and son in law were advised to use, the children would settle.
It wasn’t long before my daughter began reporting really challenging behaviour exhibited by her son both in the home and outside, particularly on his way to and from school. This seemed to worsen daily and she was asking for help and guidance from the Social Workers, school, anyone who might listen. I was at a loss how to help. Things rapidly worsened and my grandson became violent. I saw bite marks and bruises on my daughter and she had a nasty burn where she had been distracted at the wrong moment. She lost weight, was permanently on edge and wasn’t sleeping. She started staying out in the play park until her husband was almost due home and I saw the desperation etched on his face when he came in.
My daughter and son in law tried everything to manage in their home and help their son cope with his emotions. There was a growing number of charts, timetables, chew toys and barricades each time I visited. I became scared for my daughter. As part of the support network, I felt I should help but this was way beyond my capabilities. I was no help at all to my daughter. That is something I shall always have to live with.
Eventually the decision was reached that my grandson should return to foster care. No immediate decision was made whether his sister should go with him. Also, quite when it would happen was uncertain.
I last saw my grandson as he walked into school one Tuesday morning and my granddaughter the same morning as she sat in her car seat when my daughter dropped me in town. Both children were collected two days later, after an extra 24 hour delay on the initial timing that my daughter had been told. The fact that her daughter was going too had been mentioned to my daughter almost incidentally. This is such cruelty.
For me, after such a protracted time of preparation for the children moving in, their departure felt very abrupt. However I realise the situation had reached crisis point and it had to happen quickly. When I knew my grandson had gone, for the first time for some while I wasn’t scared for my daughter.
I do have many cherished memories of my grandchildren, a little hand in mine, sitting together reading stories or watching television and so on. I’m not sure my daughter has any happy memories of her son because of the horror she endured. That makes me very sad. If only her son had received ongoing psychological support beginning at an early stage, I believe that by the time he was adopted he and my daughter could have had a workable, successful mother-son relationship.
My daughter and son in law spent years planning and preparing to adopt. They could not have done more. It distresses me greatly that my daughter speaks about feelings of guilt and failure. To her, my son in law and all adopters who have experienced disruption I say: you should be proud of how you tried. I salute you.