V. Are You Right for Adoption?

The following paragraphs talk about some characteristics I think are necessary for adopters. They correspond to areas of personality, relationships, and motivations which the social workers will want to discuss with you during your assessment. You still need to be honest with yourself and your partner, and you still need to read slowly and thoughtfully, because the way you feel about these things will largely determine how happy you and your prospective child will be in an adoption.

Are You Realistic about the Ups and Downs of Parenthood?

Can you change a nappy, a really three-star messy one, without gagging?
Has a child ever been sick over your best suit? How did you react?
Do you faint at the sight of blood?
What would you do if your next-door neighbour came over, furious that your child had broken his greenhouse window with his catapult?
Are you good friends with your plumber?
How many different things found in the average home can you stick in a wall socket to give yourself a hefty electrical shock?
Question: How much pocket money does a 15-year old need per week? Answer: How much have you got?

Everyone knows about the Ups of parenthood. That’s what you see in the adverts. And it’s all true. You do cry when your six-year-old comes on stage in your bathrobe with a tea towel over his head as the ninth shepherd in the school Christmas pageant. Freshly-bathed babies do smell lovely. Showing your toddler her first hermit crab at the beach is a thrill. But to adopt you do need to have a realistic idea of what the Downs of parenthood are, too.

If you are from a large family you may well know both sides already. If you only have a little experience, don’t be seduced by the baby magazine covers. Get to know the grittier side, so parenthood won’t come as such a shock. Babies do not come with an instruction book. Toddlers had one, but they’ve flushed it down the loo. Teenagers have one, too, but it’s written in Grunt.

Parenthood is the morning news when a little girl has been found naked and dead on waste ground, and you think, “That’s somebody’s baby; it could have been mine”, and your hands go cold.
It’s getting up for the seventh time in one night when the baby’s got colic. Again.
It’s doing 13 loads of washing in one day because all the kids have got the flu at the same time. And so do you.
It’s when little Johnny watches you pulling weeds and asks, “What are you doing, Daddy”, and you say “Gardening, son”, and you turn around five minutes later and see your little treasure has pulled up all the bedding plants you set out last weekend, and you yell, “What in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?” and he replies, “Gardening, Daddy”.
It can also be the heavy knock on the door at 7:00 AM when the police come to search Paul’s room for drugs, and find some.
It can also be Molly aged 13, coming home falling down drunk.
It can be the boys next door running up to tell you Duleep is lying on the ground after falling off his bike and can’t move his arms or legs and you’d better phone for an ambulance.
And the school head phoning up to tell you to come and get Sarah, because she’s just kicked the English teacher in the groin.

Parenthood means more than the ability to actually enjoy a primary school orchestra’s rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In” or being allowed to watch children playing in the park without being made to feel like a pervert. It’s hard work. If they made a paid job out of parenthood nobody would do it. It’s the fact that it’s unpaid which makes it worthwhile. And raising adopted children isn’t just different, it’s harder than raising your own.

Raising adopted children is harder than raising ones you make yourself from scratch. True. But it’s also more fun and more satisfying. Every time I see one of my children win a medal for running or a national letter-writing competition or come home dripping wet after delivering newspapers in the rain with his dog trotting beside him or snoring noisily at noon with his size 48s hanging off the end of the bed I think, “I almost missed that”, and my heart skips a beat (well, maybe not every time, but plenty often enough).

If you don’t think you’ve got very much experience with children (nobody thinks he has enough, but you do need more than none), there are plenty of ways to get it, which I discuss below in the section Alternatives to Adoption. Pursuing some of these avenues is not only good for you and the children you will get to know, but it looks good on your application form, too.