"The children we support make the role of foster carer completely worthwhile." Photograph: Owen Humphreys/PA
This time last year we were going though our fostering assessment process, attending medicals, sitting through days and days of in-depth training sessions and facing a panel of experts. We thought that was the biggest challenge to be addressed – to be approved as foster carers.
We were confident in our abilities. We have been married for almost 30 years; our children are fully grown, independent and working. We are even grandparents! We felt by the end of the process we were prepared, if a bit apprehensive.
Our first foster child arrived at the beginning of autumn last year and in all honesty nothing could have prepared us for the emotional, mental and physical rollercoaster of the past eight months. Now, when I look back, I see how much harder it must have been for him but at the time we felt like our world had been turned upside down. We lost all time for ourselves, personal space was non-existent, the future for all of us was uncertain, and we were seriously lacking sleep.
As time has gone on, however, our biggest frustrations have not been with looking after him. He has very quickly assimilated our rules and adhered to our boundaries with remarkable tenacity and respect. As we get to know him and care not only for him but about him, we find it increasingly difficult to accept the painfully slow and cumbersome processes of social services. This is not to say the social workers and the family finders are not doing their jobs – they are, but they are seemingly paralysed by legislation and struggling against systems that are meant to protect.
The child we support is only three. He has lived in four different homes (so far in his short and eventful life). His care plan has been agreed by the courts since the end of last year, yet he still has very regular and confusing contact with parents who are not deemed fit to care for him. Somewhere in the ether there is a referral for him to be supported by a professional to understand his life so far – "life work"– but this has not materialised.
He was told nothing about why he was with us and why he was never going home again until we insisted someone try and answer his questions. He thought it was his fault he was in care – he thought it was something he had done wrong and that if he was good his parents would let him come home. And to top it all, it seems there is no one out there who is interested in adopting a delightful, loving and funny three-year-old boy.
From our novice and often tired perspective his needs do not appear to come first in any action that is being taken – or not taken – on his behalf. We were asked several times last month by the local authority if we would consider adopting him as he was doing so well with us. Thankfully, we are well supported by our agency and they have stepped in to remind us of what our role is and how best we can help the child.
Other more seasoned foster carers have told us that if they can't find anyone for a child they always ask the foster carers to adopt. We don't want to get used to this way of working; we don't want to adopt a child because he is just there; and we don't want to accept that children, through no fault of their own, are being ignored, delayed, frustrated, fobbed off and, quite honestly, at times neglected by the authorities.
We and many others want to see changes in practice, timescales and decisions. Fortunately, as clichéd as it may sound, the children we support do make the role of foster carer completely worthwhile. We are not giving up yet.
Suzanne Marlborough writes under a pseudonym