A Precious Life Changing Memory : Chapter 4

This is going to be the hardest for me to write, thankfully its short, but even so…..

June 2003 Social Services got in touch wanted to see me and H. Wanted the to meet with out my mother around. This wasn’t easy but I managed to do it. The meeting with this social worker boiled down to one sentence. Move out or we will put H into care. Without hesitation I agreed. They had a place for me in a mother and baby unit in a town around a 40 min drive away. This for me was a huge move, I had never been allowed to parent H on my own before, I had never lived independently, I couldn’t cook, I didn’t know household bills, but by heck I was not going to turn down this chance.
The unit was 6 flats still being built ready in October, supported weekdays 9-5, rest time left to own devices. A bedroom for H, a lounge bedroom for me, own kitchen and bathroom. With communal rooms too. I was nervous but so excited, Yet before hand I was asked to attend a important meeting at a centre in town.

This was new to me. Why were social services suddenly showing an interest? I was confused and went to the meeting totally unprepared for what I was heading into. To get this short, it turned out to be a child protection meeting, I was informed since H had landed in hospital at the age of 9months they had been watching the family and had had various reports. My mothers treatment and apparent admission of harming H was the final nail for it to go this far. BUT I was willing to go to the mother and baby unit and do all that was asked of me, so social were happy.
My mother on the other hand, woah, she was doing everything she could to make the move hard for me, quilt tripping me, wouldn’t even let me take a toilet roll for mine and H’s first night in the unit.

October 2003, H and I found ourselves in our little flat, both clueless about each other, and in a way strangers. I didn’t know how to handle him, he didn’t understand why we were suddenly in a new location without all his pets and people he knew.
Ill put it bluntly the first few days were hell. Support was little, I was too scared to ask for help. It went seriously downhill fast.
I wanted this to work so much, I would do anything to make it work, but instead of support, H in nursery just a week after the moving date, there was a knock at my door. A social worker and some other people, informing me that they were taking H into care. They wanted to take me to the nursery, let me pick him up, then they would drive me to the foster carers and let me say goodbye to him. My heart broke I begged, I questioned, I asked, but they had made their plans, I had no say. I was assured it was just for a few days to let me sort myself out
Picking H up from nursery holding back the tears, telling him he was going to stay with some people for a few days. His confused questions. Walking the path to the foster carers, pushing him to the door, the lady pulling him from my arms, as H broke, I was made to walk away by the social worker, His screams followed me down the path, I broke then, why the hell were they doing this. So many unanswered questions.

I was given regular contact, and was allowed to stay in the unit, but it soon became clear that social services plan was not to return him to me.
I had failed my child, I was hopeless, I wanted to fight to the end, but circumstances meant otherwise, situation arose were H found himself a big brother to a little brother end of 2004 (but that’s a story I will keep away from here) a little brother who I also lost to social services.
I fought from 2003 to 2007, court dates, meetings, physiology reports, therapist sessions, whilst trying to create so many memories with the boys, trying to jump through every hoop they asked of me. I messed up too many times though, I was hopeless, not strong enough, and just a downright mess who couldn’t fight alone against a huge system.

with H adoption was his only path, I was asked to attend court to ensure all paperwork to go through, they wanted me to sign the paperwork to ensure a quick route, if I fought against and refused to sign, he would have been in the system and not settled for potentially many more months.
On the day, my solicitor placed the papers in front of me, I was handed a pen, but I couldn’t do it, my support worker from the unit was with me, she spoke to me. Said it was time to let him go and stop being selfish. I had to put his needs and wants first, picking up the pen signing my child away was hell, and one I will NEVER forgive myself for, but I had to do it for him, he had to come first. his timeline and mine were too far apart.

Our final contact, was held in a building in a different town, we had a couple of hours to sit and just play, talk and go through his life story book I had spent hours making. His younger brother was there, it was amazing but heartbreaking, but I got through it. I asked to leave first, H was able to help put his brother into the car seat before giving me a hug, saying love you see you soon. I don’t think he fully was aware of what was going on, I just rubbed his head and say love you before getting in the car were the tears finally came.

To bring this down, to the basics before more tears fall.

I brought two amazing boys into this world, and gave two families the most amazing gift, a child they would never had had other wise.

I often get told to stop being selfish and put the children I have now first…. I try not to swear in this blog, but fuck you, I hate those words. I know first hand about putting a child’s needs first. It’s all I have spent the last 19 yrs doing.

I could write more on this, ripping into how social services lied to me on many occasions, exactly how and were I messed up, but I see no point or need, these demons are for me alone to deal with and make no difference to a past that cannot be changed.

I will never regret having H, I feel hatred towards myself for his start in life, but knowing that he now has an amazing adoptive father who is there for him has helped me ease the guilt of not being able to be there for him growing up.

For now, I am out of words, just:

I know he reads this, so I want to say I am so sorry H, I truly am.