My first fostering experience

FH and I fostered from the first year of our marriage until our children began to get close to the ages of the teenagers we fostered.  We ‘specialised’, pretty much because we were both working full time and also possibly because of our temperament, in teenage boys and young mums.  I did not keep a record of exactly how many young people we fostered.  Some were long term, others short term, but it was double figures.  I have some funny stories to tell, but at the heart of them all is great sadness and loss.  Children from rich families came to us as much as those from poor families.  I have lived with one of my foster sons who came to me aged 13 longer than my own children and am godmother to the youngest daughter of one of my young mums, but I am not in touch with all of them.  We did not make a career out of it.

I wrote this after the placement of our first young mum broke down.  The first experience was painful, but after that I toughened up and I never ‘reviewed’ placements again in the same way.  Foster parents were in such demand it was a revolving door and as soon as one left they brought another.  For most of the period we fostered two.  It is quite poignant as it is 29 years ago and I was 26.  It was my first placement and the adjustment was obviously extremely difficult and I can see how lacking in experience I was and also how FH and I were settling in to our early married life.  The picture is of our dogs at the time – Spike and Jazz.  All names are changed.

After two introductory meetings in which she showed remarkable poise for a girl in her situation, Susan came to live with us on Sunday 13th October 1985.  I warmed to her immediately.  On the surface she was a typical 15 year old and I was quite relieved to feel she was not too sophisticated and unlikely to be the type to make a pass at my husband.

On the first day we cooked a lamb roast and she left it.  Apparently she only liked beef and convenience foods, but over the weeks that she was with us she began to experiment with and enjoy the different types of dishes that we served up to her.

From the foster meetings I was very much aware of the need to be sensitive to her feelings, but this was always quite difficult throughout her time with us.  In the 11 weeks that she was with us I only saw her cry once and that was in the second week after the baby was born.  Otherwise her emotions were always in neutral and FH especially was impressed with her lack of histrionics.  I felt that somewhere along the line she was missing out as she never seemed to feel real joy or express genuine sorrow at anything.

The early difficulties that we encountered were my attitudes to another woman in the house.  Susan was never aware of these as FH and I had our arguments concerning her in the privacy of the local park.  I did not like her cleaning around too much and wanted her only to help with tasks concerning her too such as cooking and cleaning up after meals.  I would ask her to help me by peeling potatoes etc, using phraseology such as ‘would you mind..’ and ‘can you..’  This led to a blazing row between FH and I about my not saying please to her every time which hurt me deeply.  Although he denies this, at times I did feel that FH did not really appreciate the extra planning she did involve on top of my work load and pregnancy and he expected me to treat her as an honored guest rather than a member of the house.

Up until the time the baby was born I would expect her to come shopping with me in the car once a week and to help in a small way with every evening meal.  She also did her own washing and got her own snacks in the day.  I felt that she was moderately happy.  She saw Simon, her boyfriend every day and they took the dogs for walks in the park.  She had her home tutor in the morning and spent any free time watching television.

I would have liked to have seen her have more girlfriends round and go out a bit.  In the month before the baby was born her brother stayed once, a schoolmate came one afternoon and we took her and Simon to a fire works display.  Only with her brother did she show signs of being a young girl, laughing and giggling.  Her conversation otherwise was of an older, rather boring woman.  She was superior about people (even Simon) and amusingly snobby.  I think she thought FH and I were very lower class living down-town Luton with the ‘Pakis’.  She was not too impressed either with the second-hand baby things my colleagues sent for her and only wrote a thank-you for a little jumper a parent of one of the children in my class made for her.

I really felt at the time that between us we had quite a lot to offer her.  FH used to make her laugh and she was always telling her Dad funny things he said.  They watched TV a lot together.  She opened up to me slowly about the saga of her relationship with Simon and her parents and talked to me about clothes sometimes.  She lacked a lot of basic essentials and I gave her some things, though what I had in colours that she liked was limited.  I felt quite ashamed to have so much.  Her underclothes especially were in a poor state, but I didn’t realise this until I did her washing later.

Her baby son Samuel was born on Saturday 16th November.  Her brother was supposed to be coming for the week-end and two of FH’s friends were coming for dinner.  After the first show I rang the hospital and explained the symptoms.  We collected Simon en route.  At the hospital a Sister Williams examined her and was very rude to both her and Simon.  They were sent to the ante natal ward where I had to get another Sister to reassure them both that they could be together during the birth.  I went home and had two attempts to cook a meal – the first being abortive as the mince was off.  At 3pm she rang me to bring her some things and at 7pm I was there in the dad’s waiting room just as he was born.

I felt very torn between FH and Susan on that day.  He wanted me at home entertaining his friends with him and she wanted me at the hospital as a compensation for her father not being there.  The week that Susan was in hospital was also quite demanding as she expected me to visit her every night after work and it was difficult as my Mum was also staying.  I think I went three  times in the end and FH went once too.  I despised her dad that week for not doing a thing while I was making excuses for him.  She talked a lot then about our place being ‘home’ and ‘her dogs’ which touched me.

When she came home things changed and she became very bossy.  She asked FH to do several things for the baby which he did as it was easier than saying no.  She asked me to fill the baby bath for her which I refused to do as after my miscarriage I was not supposed to lift, but my mum did for her.  The first week I cooked all meals and did all the cleaning and washing and got very resentful.  I would not have minded if she had been poorly, but she just sat with the baby, fed it and changed it and watched TV.  I felt that such an attitude was unrealistic.  Once she even asked me to make his bottles.

FH and I had another row and he attempted to have a few words with her.  Unfortunately the message came out too strong the first time and I had to soften it the next day, explaining that I was still prepared to do things for her, but that she must help a little.  She never came shopping with me again, but frequently asked me to make an individual trip mid week to buy nappies and milk.  I always refused saying why not.

Simon had been allowed into the house after the birth if we were in and began to come round more and more, staying for meals and asking our advice about his form filling problems.  The other TV came downstairs and they had privacy together with the baby.  I felt it was a good idea and she got him to help her with the baby, but FH did not like him coming round as often as he did.

Just before Christmas I felt that Susan needed to sort out her immediate future plans.  She was not getting on with the home tutor and although now coping well with the baby still doing very little other than watching TV.  The combined volume of 2 TVs was really getting to me, but we did manage to talk about that amicably.  Talking things over with Susan got better towards the end, though she admitted she found such discussions difficult.  She obviously could not discuss emotions at all with her dad, as the one time she broke down and we took her home for a fatherly cuddle, she never shed a tear in front of him.  Similarly, after a week-end home in December, she measured the success of it by how much she got her dad and brother to do for the baby.  I thought she liked bossing men around and did not relate well to women.  She resented her social worker supposedly ‘hogging’ baby and thought I did not like Samuel because I deliberately did not get involved with him.  In fact I think FH and I successfully got her to take full responsibility for Samuel, though we did not get as far as getting her to look after herself.

Simon breaking a large window, Thursday 19th December, was a shock out of the blue.  Our first concern after Susan was for the animals.  My emotional reaction to the mess came about four hours later when I was in the house on my own and got the weepies.  FH got it out his system by swearing and kicking the wall.

After this I was not as keen to have Susan back because I felt that living with us had lost its advantages.  However, she said that she hated him and court injunctions were made so she came back.  On Saturday 21st November another large window was smashed.  Susan’s contempt for Simon knew no bounds.  However, on Monday 23rd she took him his Christmas presents and on Tuesday we caught her coming back again from his house.  Then it was love.

At this point I felt very cold towards her.  FH’s reaction was a little more heated.  She was certainly making effective fools out of us as we had specifically stated no contact with Simon.  Afetr we had taken her home, in fact only hours earlier than she was due there anyway, I felt very upset that we had burnt our bridges.  FH was upset because I was upset.

In retrospect there was very little else we could do.  Simon could not have come back to our house for some considerable time, if ever and Susan was still under age  and supposed to be kept away from his house.  Another pregnancy would have been our responsibility.  Apart from anything else our respect and trust was gone.  Susan herself was just angry.

The most rewarding thing about Susan was the sense of sometimes being in the right place at the right time.  At different times I was sister, friend and mother to her and though she never said thank you for anything we bought or gave to her, she still did a lot for my self worth.  At times she made me bloody miserable, but when it came to the crunch I enjoyed the personal challenge.

FH was great the whole time and without him it would not have worked.  He calmed me down at crucial times and as different things irritate us we worked well as a team.  He never got emotionally involved with her as I did, but in some ways I felt she related best to him.

We both feel that we coped fairly well with Susan as a person and the baby was no problem at all.  Her relationship with Simon we could not control and that to my mind ended the placement.  The legacy she left behind came to light in the New Year – one hopelessly blocked drain, stuffed with pampers nappies!

Shortly after leaving us and turning 16,  Susan, Samuel and Simon got a council house.  I have not seen her since.