She learned English for me.

Not because she needed it. Not because her life required it. But because I was a child born in England, and she wanted to make sure that the country where I had begun my life would never feel entirely foreign to me.

My adoptive mother was a beautiful woman. Elegant, always. Even on ordinary days, even in a small Sicilian town where elegance was not especially required. She had a way of walking into a room that made people feel that something important was about to happen. And she had a generosity that was not performance: she helped people quietly, consistently, without keeping score.

I was nine months old when they adopted me. In Italy, at that time, adoption could take years — the waiting lists were endless, the bureaucracy overwhelming. Someone advised them to consider an international adoption. And so they came to England. To Epping, Essex. And they brought me home.

But home, for them, meant making sure I never lost the country where I had started. And so they moved to Watford. They bought a house. They built a life in England – in a country that was not theirs – so that I could grow up knowing where I came from. And while they were there, they learned English together, sitting at a kitchen table, working through grammar books and phrases, laughing at their mistakes.

For me.

Moving back to Sicily

I was nine years old when we moved back to Sicily. And Sicily became my home. Italy became my language. And England became the country where I was born, which is not the same thing as the country where I grew up, but which has never entirely left me.

My mother died when I was sixteen. Both my parents did, within a short time of each other. And the questions that I had not known I was carrying – about love, about belonging, about what it means to be chosen – became suddenly very loud.

Years later, I searched for my biological origins. I found them.

I remember it was raining. I was wet. I stood outside the door for a few minutes before I rang the bell – I don’t know why. Perhaps I needed a moment. Perhaps I already knew.

The door opened. She hugged me.

And I felt a cold embrace.

Not because I was wet from the rain. But because I had already known a warm one. Because the real embrace – the one that had held me through childhood and loss and everything in between – had already been given to me, years before, by someone who had learned English at a kitchen table in Watford, just to make me feel at home.

That is the moment I understood what my book is about.

Love Isn’t born. It’s Built

Love Isn’t Born. It’s Built. – Children Beyond Blood is not a story about searching. It is not a reunion memoir. It is the story of what I already had – and what it took me a lifetime to recognise.

Chosen love is not a consolation prize. It is not second best. It is, sometimes, the warmest embrace you will ever know.

I write under the pen name The Hidden Voice – a name I first chose for privacy, when I published my debut book, Two Lines, One Life. It has since become something more: a description of what I believe many adopted people carry. A voice that is real, and full, and true – but that does not always find the space to speak.

This book is my voice speaking.

And it feels right that it is written in English. I was born in England. My parents came to England for me. And now, decades later, I am sending this book back to where everything began.

My mother did not give birth to me.

But she built me.

And that, I have learned, is the most powerful thing love can do.

Love isn’t born. It’s built.

The Hidden Voice is the author of Love Isn’t Born. It’s Built. – Children Beyond Blood, available as a Kindle ebook and paperback on Amazon UK. She is also the author of Two Lines, One Life. Born in Epping, Essex. Living in Sicily, Italy.

Head to the homepage to read the latest articles about adoption, parenting and wellbeing.

I can still remember the feeling of trapping my arm in a car door as a child.

I remember the excitement of opening a bike and a mini keyboard on Christmas morning.

I remember the embarrassment, anxiety and sadness of being bullied at secondary school after dyeing my hair, with children singing the Fraggle Rock theme song at me for days.

The events themselves happened decades ago, yet I can still recall them vividly.

Why?

Because I remember how they made me feel.

Why feelings matter

Feelings give experiences meaning. They help shape how we see ourselves, others and the world around us. They can influence the choices we make, the risks we take and the stories we carry about who we are.

Yet growing up in the 1980s, I’m not sure anyone ever really explored my feelings with me. At times, they felt muddled, overwhelming and messy. Looking back, I often had to make sense of them on my own.

Perhaps that’s why I grew into an adult who felt things deeply.

Like many people, I’ve experienced panic attacks, comfort eating and periods where worry has made it difficult to switch off. I’ve watched friends, family members and colleagues struggle with their mental health. I’ve seen first-hand the impact emotional distress can have on children, young people and adults alike.

One experience that has never left me involved a young child who had taken an overdose and required urgent medical treatment. Watching a room full of professionals trying desperately to keep that child safe was heartbreaking.

It reinforced something I now believe strongly:

Feelings matter.

Not because they are always comfortable, but because they are always communicating something.

As an Early Childhood Studies graduate, childcare practitioner, lecturer and assessor, I spent years supporting children and families. Yet it wasn’t until I became an adoptive parent that my understanding of feelings was challenged in entirely new ways.

Feelings in adoption

When my daughter came home, I expected big emotions.

What I didn’t expect was the intensity.

The anger.

The anxiety.

The sleepless nights.

The school struggles.

The behaviours that often appeared bigger than the feelings underneath them.

Like many adoptive parents, I immersed myself in therapeutic parenting approaches and attachment-based support. These were invaluable, but there were times when I still felt stuck.

I wasn’t looking for a quick fix.

I was looking for ways to help my daughter understand herself.

To help her make sense of what was happening inside her body and mind.

To help her feel heard.

Helping adopted children to feel heard

Whilst waiting for specialist support, I discovered parent-led approaches that encouraged children to explore and process their emotions. At first, I felt frustrated that the responsibility seemed to return to me as the parent yet again.

But over time, I realised something important.

My role was never to fix my daughter’s feelings.

My role was to hold space for them.

That realisation changed everything.

It led me to create My Story, My Way, a resource designed specifically for adopted children.

I wanted my daughter to physically hold messages that reminded her she was safe, loved and that all feelings were welcome.

Not just the happy ones.

The complicated ones, too.

The confused ones.

The angry ones.

The sad ones.

Because feelings do not become less important simply because we ignore them.

Creative expression

Many adults struggle to identify what they are feeling. We go quiet when we’re overwhelmed. We snap when we’re stressed. We avoid things that make us anxious. We comfort ourselves with food, scrolling or distraction.

Children are no different.

Often, they simply communicate their feelings in different ways.

This is where creative expression became so important in our family.

Not every child can sit down and explain exactly how they feel.

In fact, many adults can’t either.

But children can draw.

They can paint.

They can create.

They can tell stories.

They can show us things they cannot yet put into words.

Some of the most powerful conversations I’ve had with my daughter have happened whilst drawing, painting or creating together.

Creativity creates safety.

It removes pressure.

It allows feelings to emerge naturally.

And when that happens, something remarkable occurs.

Helping children feel understood

Children begin to feel understood.

What started with one resource for one little girl has now grown into Wild Hearts Creative.

Today, our resources support children navigating anxiety, family separation, grief, confidence challenges, school transitions, adoption, hospital stays, friendship difficulties and many of life’s other big moments.

Not because we have all the answers.

But because every child deserves opportunities to express themselves, explore their experiences and feel heard.

The truth is that we cannot protect children from every difficult feeling.

Nor should we.

Sadness, disappointment, fear, frustration and uncertainty are all part of being human.

What we can do is help children understand that feelings are not something to fear.

They are something to notice.

Something to explore.

Something to move through.

And perhaps if we can help children do that, we give them something far more valuable than happiness.

We give them the confidence to trust themselves, whatever life brings.

Because feelings felt in childhood can last a lifetime.

But so can the experience of being understood.

About Wild Hearts Creative

Gem Mullings is the creator of Wild Hearts Creative, which was born from a deep belief that children deserve gentle, meaningful ways to express what is happening inside them, especially when words feel hard to find.

With a degree in Early Childhood Studies and years of experience supporting children and families through childcare, education and family support, she has always been drawn to the emotional world of children and how feelings often show themselves through play, behaviour, movement, creativity and connection long before a child can fully explain them.

As an adoptive parent, she knows how important emotional safety, belonging and creative expression can be for children navigating big feelings, identity and life experiences.

Head to the homepage to read the latest articles about adoption, parenting and wellbeing.

Adopting a child with ADHD can be absolutely joyous. However, there are often challenges when it comes to sleep, as it’s often overlooked when it comes to ADHD. It’s a 24/7 disorder, and a child’s brain doesn’t stop when it is time to sleep.

But the good news is, there are lots of holistic tools and approaches you can embed to support them! I’m Jade, an infant and child sleep consultant and ADHD sleep awareness practitioner, and these are my tips to help you support your child to a better night’s sleep.

Structure around evenings

I often recommend separating the evening routine from the bedtime routine. Adopting new practices at this time can help when it is time to sleep.

For example:

• Evening walks after dinner or proprioceptive exercises can be great for their nervous system regulation. Plus, fresh air helps sleep, too!
• Reducing screen time. This often goes without saying, but depending on the age and stage of the child (social media/video game influence), these could be having a bigger impact on the evenings and nights.
• Journaling can be a great tool for children who feel more anxious or struggle to wind down at bedtime due to busy thoughts. Getting those all out way ahead of bedtime can help with the rewiring during their wind-down for sleep.
• To-do lists – help for those moments when they are in bed and suddenly need to “still do that thing”. Embed it into the evening routine, and they get a dopamine hit from ticking off the list!

The Bedtime Routine

Predictability and consistency are both key here. Consistency is important, as if things are too fluid, many kids will want to deviate from the normal routine. Here are some tips to support this.

• Routine charts – this helps keep everyone accountable (us as caregivers, too!) to keep things steady and consistent.
• Sensory input is important, and all children are different when it comes to sound, light and sensory needs. Find out what your child’s preferences are here. If using a night light, I recommend a red/amber tone, as blue and white lights can alter their melatonin production.
• Other tools could include belly breathing meditation techniques! I highly recommend listening to the “Your Floating Bed” podcast on Spotify.

Support for Children with ADHD: Sleep Pressure

Many ADHD children are time-sensitive, which means weekend lie-ins may make it difficult for them to sleep on a Sunday evening before they need to get up for school on Monday. To alleviate this, try to keep wake timings within a 20-minute window.

Many children with ADHD suffer from delayed sleep phase disorder. This affects their time when they fall asleep, which is outside the societal norms (early bedtime and early wake for school). One of the best things you can do here if push bedtime out to help rewire their feeling that “sleep is hard” before bringing it earlier again.

Look at External Factors

Like adults, there are often external factors which influence children’s sleep. For example, social dynamics, new anxieties, a change in diet or medications. If there are other factors at play, this could be impacting your child’s ability to wind down in the evening.

Keep a good diet, and if sleep changes have happened since changing medication, then it’s a good idea to speak to their GP to review this.

Also, try to dive deep with your child. What else is going on? Having those conversations around sleep is really important, but so is their day-to-day lives and habits, as changes in these can affect their ability to switch off at night.

Manage Expectations

Progress may be gradual, and often is! Some kids will take to new tools (new eye masks, weighted blankets etc) well, as it brings them that shiny object dopamine hit. But when it comes to anxieties and building up their confidence, this will take a bit longer. Make your changes gradually rather than feeling you can just get straight out of the room. Give them small snippets of independence before building this up.

It may also be that you are noticing the lack of sleep is impacting their focus, emotions and irrational behaviours even more. They might be feeling this too. Communication around sleep can be key for you all to unlock what tools or changes you can put in place.

We want to create a safe space for our children to help them thrive. A place where they can be open and honest in their challenges and be given full support. Bring these conversations earlier in the evening, which allows you space to build their confidence at bedtime with positive encouragement in their own safe place.

To find out how Beyond the Stars can help to support your sleep journey, visit their website or follow on Instagram.

Head to the parenting section to read more articles about sleep support.

Managing school year transitions (Part I) – supporting endings from home

It’s that time of year for schools in England and Wales when staff are ramping up transition arrangements for the next academic year, and our children may be showing us in a variety of ways that they are unsettled by this. It’s been a difficult end to this school year with so many children in and out of self-isolation, which has made the usual implementation of transition plans within school that much more difficult.

For children who’ve experienced trauma, this time of year (coming towards the end of term) can be especially hard – those feelings of loss, of significant change, can resurface and can lead to heightened anxiety. For them (and for so many others, especially off the back of another up and down year thanks to Covid), how endings are supported is just as important as everything that goes into preparing them for new beginnings (whether that be going up a school year, or transitioning from nursery to primary, primary to secondary, or secondary to college).

What parents can do to help to help school year transitions

Here are just a few considerations you may find useful to support your child through the end of this final summer term.

Hopefully school is working with you to ensure that a clear transition plan is in place and underway, based on your child’s specific needs, so you’ve had some input, know what to expect and when – use this to talk to your child at home about it at the right time for them.

Transition plan

Check that your child’s transition plan includes going back to basics with things like knowing where the nearest toilet to their new classroom is, where they will put their bag, where they will put their water bottle, how safe the classroom is – things that can cause real anxiety for children who’ve experienced trauma can be around basic needs.

Contact from new teacher

Ask the next teacher if they would be happy to send an email (or postcard) to your child around a week before the start of the next term to tell them a bit about their summer break, and to say how much they are looking forward to welcoming them to their class. Obviously this suggestion comes with a caveat that teachers need a break over the summer and this request may be over and above the usual kind of request they might receive from parents.

Help them share their worries

Open up a space for your child to share their worries – you will know best how to do that, but always worth remembering the power of play for connecting up with feelings, or of just taking small opportunities to check in from time to time, being curious with them. They may also prefer to write their worries down and pop them in a jar; or for older children, maybe they might be encouraged to journal, or write a blog that never gets published?

Start a dialogue

Start a dialogue with the next class teacher where possible (if different to the current one), share your insights, concerns and hopes for the start of the new year, and agree the best mode of communication going forward – preferred modes can differ between teachers, so it’s useful to have that discussion in advance of the next school year, when everything can be a bit frenetic.

Saying goodbye

Check there will be an opportunity for your child to say goodbye properly to key staff and their peers so there is a clear end point to the year where the teacher communicates what will happen after the summer holiday once again. Getting your child/young person involved in writing in or making thank you cards to hand over can be a good opportunity to support clear messaging around this end point so they are involved in saying thank you in their own way.

Ask their teacher if it might be possible for them to pop in at the beginning of next term to say hello. Children who’ve experienced loss can feel endings particularly keenly, but messaging in the vein of ‘you’ll be moving on to a different teacher after the holidays, but I value our teacher-pupil relationship and will still be around even if you’re not in my class anymore – I still care’, or similar, can be very reassuring.

Consider whether a small photo of their current teacher and/or a small transition item of some kind might be helpful for your child to take away with them at the end of term.

New classroom and staff

Similarly, ask for photos of the next class and of the future key staff that you can look at with your child/young person as appropriate over the summer – helps with familiarisation. Even better, if school can do a quick video showing the classroom, maybe even walking the route from the school entrance to the classroom too, that’s a bonus (especially for those who were unable to visit their new classroom due to bubbles isolating at the end of term).

The Invisible String

With younger children, read the book The Invisible String (or sit down with them and enjoy this recording of it) and explore the concept of everyone being connected, even when not together.

Manage your expectations with ends and starts of terms – if your child is older and has been with you a while, you’ll know the drill, and you’ll know that these are waves to ride out as we support our children with navigating their way through another change the best way we can. Look after yourselves.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I hope helpful. Sending you all good wishes.

Emma Spillane is a qualified teacher, adoptive parent and attachment & trauma trainer who works with schools to support them on their journey towards becoming trauma-sensitive. More information about how she works with schools and the training and consultancy she offers can be found on her website

If you enjoyed reading this article, why not buy me a coffee to help support the magazine? If you’d like to read more articles about adoption, health and well-being, and parenting, head over to the home page and have a look at what’s new.

That’s the thing about a name. It’s special to the person who picked it. My choices of baby names won’t be the same as yours. And it definitely isn’t the same as our children’s birth family.

When we first started thinking about adoption, one of my worries was that our future child would already have a name. What if we didn’t like the name? Would that affect how we felt about the child? That sounds ridiculous, but names do provoke a strong reaction in people.

I’m sure we’ve all liked a name and then gone off it when we come across someone called it who doesn’t live up to our expectations. I remember liking a particular name when I was about 10. Then I came across a girl about three years older than me with that name who liked to pick fights with younger kids. That put me off the name completely.

While we were waiting to be matched, I let myself gradually buy a few bits for our future child. It helped me believe I was going to be a mum. I couldn’t let myself think of names, though. One reason was I thought it would jinx things. I was also convinced we’d be matched with a child who was old enough to know their name. And even if we weren’t, I didn’t think it would be right to change their name.

Naming our daughter

When we found out about our eldest, she was six months old. Our social worker said to us early on that she thought we should change her first name, moving it to a middle name. Her birth mum likes boys’ names for girls, and it’s quite a distinctive name.

It was really difficult to think of a first name that fitted with her birth name. I can remember thinking that we should just pick our own names and lose the birth name completely. At that stage, I didn’t have the level of insight or understanding about the importance of the name as I do now. I’m horrified now that I ever had that thought.

The names our children’s birth family picked for them are not ones we would have ever picked. But that doesn’t mean they should be disregarded. They’re part of our children’s identity and history. In the future, they may decide they want to use their birth name as their first name. My mum has never liked her first name, so she has always been known by her middle name.

I’ve read some blogs written by adult adoptees who are struggling with their identity because their names were completely changed. Removing all birth names feels to them like their parents were trying to erase their birth history.

I’ve written a few times about our progress with life story work with our eldest. She’s at an age now where she understands the history behind all of her names, as does our youngest.

Birth name: being open and honest

We’re always honest (in an age-appropriate way) in our answers when our kids ask about things to do with their birth family. Recently, our eldest has been talking a lot about her name. She asked me why her second middle name is what it is. I told her that it was the name her birth mum picked for her. I also said that her sister’s second middle name is the name her birth mum picked for her.

She asked if she could choose her little sister’s first name when we told her about her. So, with our social worker’s approval, our youngest’s first name and first middle name were picked by us, and her second middle name is the one her birth mum picked.

At the moment, our eldest doesn’t like her birth name because it’s a boy’s name. But as she grows older, she has a choice. If she wants to use it, she can. The point is, she knows that it’s significant because her birth family picked it for her. As she grows up, I hope it helps her to understand her and her sister’s history.

So whilst it is just a name, there’s a lot more to it than that. We picked her first name, her first middle name is my middle name, and her second middle name was picked by her birth family. Our eldest picked our youngest’s first name, we picked her first middle name, which is also her niece’s, and my late aunt’s middle name, and her birth family picked her second middle name. So there’s a history and story behind all of their names, which we think embraces the children’s whole identity.

FAQs About changing your adopted child’s name

Head to the homepage to read more articles about adoption, parenting and wellbeing.

When you’re preparing to welcome a new child, the list of things you’re told you need can feel never-ending. A buggy. A bouncer. A next-to-me cot. A breast pump. A baby bath. And that’s before you’ve even started on the smaller stuff.

Most parents do one of two things: they buy everything new, or they spend weeks trawling second-hand marketplaces hoping to piece together a collection of kit they can trust. Both options have their merits. But there’s a third option that many families simply don’t know exists – and for adoptive parents in particular, it can be a genuinely brilliant fit.

Renting.

So, before you reach for your credit card or start scrolling second-hand listings, it’s worth knowing that renting baby and toddler equipment is a genuinely viable option – and for many families, a better one. Renting means you only pay for the time you actually need a piece of kit, and when that phase is over, it’s simply collected. No selling, no storing, no outgrown bouncer taking up half the living room.

Equipment from a reputable rental service is also checked and maintained between uses, which removes the uncertainty that can come with buying second-hand – particularly relevant when you’re welcoming a child who deserves nothing but the best from the start.

This blog post looks at how renting your baby and toddler equipment works and the main advantages for you and the environment.

Why rental makes sense

I started Merry Go Round Club because I kept seeing the same thing happen to families around me. They’d spend thousands of pounds on equipment, use it for a matter of months, and then be left with a house full of stuff they didn’t know what to do with. The buggy in the hall. The bouncer in the corner. The breast pump in a bag at the back of the kitchen cupboard.

Baby equipment has a surprisingly short useful life. A next-to-me cot is typically needed for around six months. A newborn bouncer might hold a child’s interest for three or four months before they’re ready to move on. Even buggies – often one of the biggest single purchases a family makes – may not suit a child forever as their needs and your lifestyle evolve.

Renting means you pay for the window you actually need, and nothing more. When you’re done, it’s collected. No selling, no storing, no guilt about the money spent on something gathering dust.

The savings can be significant. Renting key items rather than buying them new can save families typically 70% of the cost of buying new. This equates to hundreds of pounds over the first year – without any compromise on quality. For families who have often faced considerable costs as they prepare to adopt, that’s not a small thing.

The flexibility factor

For adoptive parents specifically, I think rental offers something that goes beyond cost: flexibility.

When you’re preparing for a placement, there’s often real uncertainty. You may not know the exact age of your child until close to the time. A toddler and a young baby need very different kits – different buggies, different sleep setups, different equipment altogether. Buying everything in advance can feel like a gamble. And buying in a rush, once a placement is confirmed, can be stressful and expensive.

Renting makes it easier to respond to what you actually need, when you need it, rather than having to predict the future. If something doesn’t work for your child, it can be swapped. If your needs change, the rental can change with them. That kind of adaptability is genuinely useful when you’re navigating a process that rarely goes exactly to plan.

With adoption, you don’t always know in advance exactly what age or stage your child will be at when they arrive – and renting means you can respond to what you need rather than having to guess.

At Merry Go Round Club, we offer monthly and short-term rentals of the products families rely on most in the early years: buggies, bouncers, baby baths, carriers, and next-to-me cots, with delivery and collection included as standard. Each of those covers a specific window of need, which makes them a natural fit for a rental model, and a much lighter lift than buying everything outright.

What about buying second-hand?

Second-hand equipment is an appealing idea – and there are great finds out there. But it comes with uncertainties that are worth thinking about.

Safety standards for baby equipment are updated regularly. A cot or buggy that met guidelines when it was first sold may not meet them now. Without a full history, it’s hard to know whether equipment has been in an accident, stored badly, or simply worn in ways that aren’t immediately visible. 

Renting from a reputable service means equipment is checked, maintained, and sourced carefully. You know what you’re getting – and that peace of mind matters, particularly when you’re welcoming a child who has perhaps already experienced enough uncertainty.

Renting your baby kit: Less clutter, less confusion

Two things nobody tells you enough about before you have a child: how much stuff accumulates, and how overwhelming the baby product market is.

The sheer volume of equipment that comes with early parenthood catches most families off guard. Renting means that when a phase is over, the equipment leaves. The house doesn’t gradually fill with outgrown items waiting to be dealt with.

And the baby product market – particularly for parents who haven’t been immersed in it throughout a pregnancy – can feel completely bewildering. There’s enormous pressure to buy everything, buy it immediately, and buy it new. Rental sidesteps a lot of that noise. You get what you need, for the stage you’re at, without having to navigate an industry designed to sell you as much as possible.

The Kind Initiative

When I set up Merry Go Round Club, I knew from the beginning that I wanted it to be about more than a transaction.

The Kind Initiative is something we are looking to grow to support families who are navigating early parenthood in genuinely difficult circumstances. Whether that’s financial hardship, a crisis situation, or simply a need that falls outside the usual routes, we are looking to build out help, regardless of the circumstances. 

We are looking at a mechanism where existing customers can look to “pay it forward” so that kit is made available for someone who needs it. Working with local organisations up and down the country, who can contact us to ensure that certain families who need support the most, shouldn’t be the ones who go without. 

I think adoptive families understand better than most what it means to walk a path that wasn’t designed with you in mind. The Kind Initiative exists because every family – however they got here – deserves a decent start.

Rental won’t be right for everyone, and it isn’t the only answer. But for families approaching parenthood with uncertainty, time pressure, or a desire to do things a little differently, it’s an option worth knowing about. And if you do look into it, I hope it makes things just a little bit easier.

Femke is the founder of Merry Go Round Club, a UK-based baby equipment rental service. Find out more from Merry Go Round’s website.

FAQs about renting baby kit

Head to the homepage to read the latest articles about adoption, parenting and wellbeing.

The majority of prospective adopters make their application to adopt through the normal ‘agency’ route – they are approved as adopters, matched with a child, the child is placed with them, the local authority (LA) supports them in making an application to adopt that child, and the LA (on the whole) manages the process on their behalf.

There is another route to adoption, which is less common and far more complicated – the ‘non-agency’ route.

I will not be able to cover all possible scenarios in this article, so it is more that I wish to flag up the complexities of being a ‘non-agency’ applicant for adoption and clarify when you should seek advice and representation.

By way of an example, Re J, K and L was a case in which I represented the applicants. They were foster carers who wished to adopt three children who had been in their care for many years. The case was ultimately unsuccessful because the court felt the applicants were not the best placement for the children long-term, due to difficulties within the placement that were very particular to that case. Despite that, the case sets out some of the challenges that non-agency applicants will face.

The procedure

Non-agency applicants are usually step-parents or foster carers, and the child must have lived with them for a prescribed time (it varies depending on which category you fit into) before they are allowed to even make the application to adopt. In some circumstances, the court can shorten that time requirement, but that too requires an application to the court.

Applicants must give their own local authority notice of their intention to adopt at least three months before making the application. This must be done in writing, which triggers the LA’s obligation to assess the applicant(s). It’s important to make sure you are sending that notice (which can just be an email) to the right place, so it’s a good idea to check that.

The LA must see the child in the placement and prepare a report on the suitability of the applicant to adopt a child (often referred to as an Annex A report). Bear in mind this applies to step-parents as well as foster carers. The report is sent to the court, not to the applicants (although they should see the part that applies to them). 

It’s also important to remember that birth parents are automatically respondents to these applications and can oppose them.

Applying to adopt without the local authority’s support: Seeking legal advice

The real difficulties arise where the Annex A report is not positive, or where the LA says they do not support the making of the adoption order, even when the report is positive.

At that point, it is very important to take legal advice because these proceedings can be very tricky.

For example, if you challenge the conclusions of the Annex A report (without seeing it), we need to get the report for you to read, put together evidence to refute the conclusions, and consider whether someone independent should prepare another assessment.

We will need to ensure that the LA cannot remove the children from your care in the meantime (if you are a foster carer) by asking for their formal agreement not to or applying for an injunction to prevent them from being able to.

The evidence we need to gather will depend on the reasons why the LA are opposing the adoption, for example, do they think the children should not be adopted at all, or should they be adopted by someone else? Do they have concerns about your care of the children or your ability to support the children’s relationship with their birth family? Do they think an alternative order would provide sufficient protection for the children in your care? All of these scenarios require a different response.

These proceedings can be difficult, time-consuming, and expensive, and it is essential that you speak to a solicitor who really understands adoption law.

If you’d like legal advice about this topic, head to our website to find out how I can help.

Head to the homepage to read more articles about the legal aspects of adoption

My journey to motherhood

I never wanted kids.

Life, fun, career came first, and kids just didn’t fit into any of that.

Then the moment hit me, like a steam train. 

It was like an overacted scene from a movie. I sat bolt upright in bed, early 40s, a 12-year relationship behind me, realising that if I didn’t do something soon, kids wouldn’t even be an option for me. My ovaries were shouting loudly.

I’ve never had that feeling before.  A deep maternal feeling. I had a niece and nephew who I loved dearly, but this was different.  I needed to figure out my options (I was single) and fast. 

Long story short, IVF on the NHS wasn’t an option; I was too high risk (did I mention I was 42 at the time?). So I decided to go through the adoption route.

I remember attending my first information event. It was full of social workers, adopters who’d been on the journey before me, and lots of couples.  I was with my mum.

I sat and listened to the talks, heard people ask lots of questions, then we broke for tea to “mingle”.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I felt like a fish out of water.

Months went by, and I couldn’t shake this feeling of so desperately wanting to be a mum. So, after having time to digest the information at the last event, I went to another.  I was prepared to do this alone. I was prepared to know that I would be surrounded by other people doing it together.  But I also knew I had so much to give a child as a single parent.

That was the event where I signed the registration of interest form and started my year-and-a-half journey to becoming a mum.

The adoption rollercoaster

The memories of my adoption journey bring back lots of mixed emotions.  I don’t think anyone can ever really prepare you for something like this.  The meetings, the paperwork, going over my past with a fine-tooth comb, having some really difficult conversations, and hearing about children who are already in the care system and their life experiences (which was an emotional rollercoaster on its own).

But the more I heard about the children, the more determined it made me to give a child a home.

Then comes the adoption approval panel, answering questions from professionals and previous adopters. The answers I gave and their short but informed decision about me determined whether or not I could be a mum.

Once you’re approved, it’s onto the part of the journey I focused on every single day.

The adoption process: Family finding 

This was the bit I was most looking forward to, but the bit I think was least prepared for. Profiles of selected children were shared with me based on information gathered in the first half of my journey.  The hardest part for me was declining real, actual children who needed a home.  I couldn’t take them all, but I knew that the right one would come along when it was time. 

There was heartbreaking disappointment during this part, too. Saying yes and feeling so connected with a child through a small profile, not even knowing their name, and for that to fall through for one reason or another was the hardest part of the entire journey.

Looking back now, of course, I can see that everything happened for a reason, but it’s so hard to reframe it that way when you’re smack bang in the middle of it.

Then S came along, and I instantly knew we were meant to be together (thinking about this still brings tears to my eyes), but that didn’t go smoothly.  There were things I had to wait on, further decisions I had to make, until finally, around six months later, after we’d been through intros, I brought him home. The most surreal day of my life.

I remember having a child’s car seat in the back of my car a few days before I left for the 8 or 9 days with his (amazing!) Foster Carer. Then to have a young child in that seat on our journey home together is something I can’t even begin to put into words.

Parenting a child with additional needs

We’re now over five years together, and he is my world.  It’s not easy because he has complex additional needs.  Not only am I an adoptive mum, but I’m also a special needs mum, and that has turned out to be a very different life from what I imagined my life as a parent would be.

I took the full 12 months off work, and following my adoption leave, I ended up quitting my job and walking away from a salary, so I could be his carer.  This was not a difficult decision.  I made a promise to him, to the child I imagined right at the beginning of my journey, that they would always come first.

Creating a family-first business

Working for someone else, having a job, just didn’t give me the flexibility I needed to be there for my son in the way he needed and deserved, and still does.  So, I set up my own business, The SEN Business Mum.  I now help other parents, particularly special needs parents, grow a profitable and sustainable business around family. 

I’m an accredited business strategist, and combined with my 20+ years in customer service, I help teach other parents the strategies they need in order to build a family-first business model.

A business they love, a business that gives them financial security, but on their terms, all whilst still being the parent they want to be, instead of having life dictated to them by someone else’s business.

As much as my own adoption journey feels like a dream sometimes, I make sure I still stay connected with the adoption service. We attend yearly events because it’s important to me to surround my son with other children who have been through a similar experience to him.  Maybe not so important now, but as he grows older, I’m hoping everything I do now is making his continued journey a little bit easier.

You can find out about The SEN Business Mum from my website, or come and say hello on Instagram.

Head to the homepage to read the latest adoption, parenting and wellbeing articles.

Written by Kate Patel, Head of Adoption and Fostering

Across the country, adoption agencies are facing a concerning trend: while the number of children needing permanent families remains high, fewer people are coming forward to adopt. This is not, I am certain, due to a lack of compassion or concern but rather the result of overlapping social, economic and cultural pressures that make adoption seem more daunting than ever before.

At Diagrama Adoption, we see these challenges on the ground every day and understanding them is key to supporting prospective parents and ensuring that children find the stable, loving homes they deserve.

The scope of the need

The number of children waiting for adoption in England has increased significantly in recent years. As of mid-2025, there were approximately 2,940 children with a placement order waiting to be matched with adoptive families, up by roughly 45% compared to three years earlier.

Meanwhile, the number of approved adopters has dropped sharply from about 2,480 to around 1,420 over the same period, a decline of around 43%. This imbalance means more children are waiting longer, with the average time between a child entering care and being placed with an adoptive family nearly 10 months.

Half of those waiting have been in the system for 18 months or more, and children who are older, in sibling groups, from ethnic minority backgrounds or with additional needs face especially long waits. These are the very groups of children that Diagrama Adoption specialises in supporting, and we understand that finding families for children who may wait the longest and whose needs are often more complex is more difficult.

Demand for adoptive families is rising

These figures paint a clear picture: the demand for adoptive families is rising, but the supply of adopters is shrinking, and the reasons are rooted in broader societal shifts.

Alongside these challenges, the Government’s 2024–27 strategy for modernising adoption sets out a clear ambition to reshape how adoption works in England, so it is more responsive, consistent and family-centred. The strategy focuses on modernising recruitment and matching processes, making better use of data and digital tools, and strengthening regional collaboration so children are not delayed by postcode differences.

A key emphasis is improving the experience for both children and adopters by reducing bureaucracy, increasing transparency, and ensuring families receive the right support at the right time, not just up to placement, but throughout their adoption journey. By placing stability, early support and long-term outcomes at its core, the strategy recognises that adoption must evolve to meet the increasingly complex needs of children waiting today.

The credit and cost-of-living crisis

Economic instability is among the most frequently cited barriers prospective adopters mention. The ongoing cost-of-living crisis, rising energy bills, housing costs and the broader credit squeeze have left many feeling financially insecure, even when in stable employment.

Although agencies do not expect prospective adopters to be wealthy, perceptions about “financial readiness” act as a psychological barrier. Many people worry that past credit issues or financial commitments will count against them, even though adoption assessments look at overall stability and support networks, not perfection. This uncertainty disproportionately affects young adults and those early in their careers, groups who otherwise might have been well-placed to adopt.

Working from home: flexibility and pressure

The shift to remote work has transformed family life, and while flexible working should, in theory, make adoption more achievable, many people report the opposite experience. For many, working from home has meant constant overlap between work and personal life, increased expectations for availability, and ongoing career pressure without the separation and support provided by a workplace community.

Prospective adopters often voice concerns that managing professional responsibilities alongside the emotional and practical demands of a newly adopted child feels overwhelming, especially without clear signals that their employers will be supportive of adoption leave and the time required for introductions and early bonding. This uncertainty can amplify hesitation, particularly for single adopters or those without nearby family support.

Fewer people coming forward to adopt: Social narratives and changing family patterns

Alongside economic and cultural pressures, broader shifts in how society approaches family formation are influencing adoption rates. People are having children later in life, family structures are changing, and there is greater diversity in how people build families. While these developments open doors for a wider range of adopters, they also create uncertainty around timing and readiness.

Media narratives that emphasise the challenges of adoption, rather than balancing them with stories of joy, growth and resilience, can also contribute to misconceptions. Many prospective adopters tell us they feel they must be “perfectly prepared” before considering adoption, an unrealistic standard that stops many before they take the first step and one which we address during our online information sessions.

Looking forward: building confidence and connection

The decline in adoption enquiries should not be read as a lack of willingness to adopt. Instead, it reflects a society grappling with uncertainty, where people feel less confident about making long-term commitments. To address this, we need coordinated effort from adoption agencies, employers, policymakers and community organisations.

At Diagrama Adoption, we know that clear information, compassionate guidance and ongoing support make a decisive difference. As a voluntary adoption agency, we work independently of local authorities and can offer a more personalised, flexible approach, taking the time to build strong, trusting relationships with prospective adopters.

This means people are supported at their own pace, with consistent professionals throughout their journey. Prospective adopters need reassurance that they don’t have to have all the answers from the outset and that support continues long after a child comes home.

Adoption remains one of the most powerful ways to change lives. By acknowledging the real pressures potential adopters face, from economic stress to emotional fatigue and responding with empathy and practical help, we can make sure that fewer children are left waiting and more families find the courage to take that first step.

If you’d like to participate in a Diagrama online information event, head to our website to get all the information and register for an online event.

About Diagrama Adoption

Diagrama Adoption is a voluntary, independent adoption agency, dedicated to finding loving families who can offer a permanent home for children across London, Kent, Sussex and Surrey.

The Diagrama Adoption agency is small enough to offer a personalised and friendly adoption experience while benefitting from the expertise and security that comes with being part of the larger Diagrama charitable foundation. 

Diagrama Adoption welcomes all adoption enquiries regardless of age, faith, sexuality, ethnicity or whether you are single or a couple.

Head to the homepage to read the latest articles about adoption, parenting and wellbeing.

Beacon Family Services has collaborated with artist and social worker Marley Starskey-Butler whose lived experience of the care system brings a powerful depth to their work. Marley observed Beacon over a year, to see the therapeutic play they offer families, and how they help trauma-experienced children and their families to build trust using approaches like Theraplay and Dyadic Developmental Pschotherapy and created an exhibition titled Compensare: For the Swallows We Weigh.

The exhibition, running from the 24th January until 4th April 2026 at Eastside Projects, Birmingham, celebrates the tireless, often unseen efforts of parents and social workers who show up every day, fighting for the children who need them most. Together, they’re creating real, transformative change, despite the overwhelming challenges faced in today’s socio-political climate.

It considers what it takes to rebuild trust, heal invisible wounds, and nurture a child’s sense of belonging. Compensare: For the Swallows We Weigh invites you into a world where art meets therapeutic play and where the quiet triumphs of adoptive families and professionals meet systemic challenges.

Opening at Eastside Projects, Birmingham, this moving exhibition is born from a connection between two social workers who know the weight of the work and the hope that drives it. The exhibition explores the profound impact of relationships on children’s mental health and the hope that carries families forward when the journey feels impossible.

The inspiration behind For the Swallows We Weigh

Inspired by time spent with founder and director, Charlotte Jenkins and her team, Marley, who is grounded in professional and familial experiences of the care system, translates therapeutic practice into art, revealing what it means to nurture trust and joy in children who have lived through trauma.

Marley’s visual storytelling is set against a backdrop where political priorities and funding decisions continually shape access to therapeutic services. It highlights how systemic forces intersect with the lived realities of families and the professionals who support them.

Marley spent months researching and deeply immersing themselves in the work of Beacon Family Services. Through this, the emotional dynamics between social workers, therapists, adoptive families, and children navigating the difficult terrain of trauma, parent-child connection, and emotional development was brought to life. The result is a powerful mixed-media exhibition that reflects the intersection of art and social care, shining a light on the emotional and support landscapes that shape family relationships in the face of adversity.

“We wanted to capture the essence of the work and share that with all those who fund and experience our work,” said Charlotte Jenkins, CEO of Beacon Family Services. “It was a privilege to allow Marley to observe all our work. Their previous exhibition, Thirty-Six, had a profound impact on me because it expressed the depth of feeling about our own and others’ identity that we must grapple with as social workers.”

Photo Credit: Marley Starskey Butler

Therapeutic Play

At its core, the exhibition poses critical questions about how we as families, therapists, social workers and professionals can create spaces of transformation for children. How can therapeutic play, such as Theraplay® and DDP, help children feel safe enough to trust again? How can art, and the process of creating it, offer a voice to those who often feel lost or unheard in the system?

In addition to the exhibition, a series of community events will take place from January to April 2026, including hands-on Theraplay® experiences for families, movement workshops, and an artist Q&A. These events offer an opportunity for reflection, for the exchange of ideas, and for a deeper connection with the therapeutic practices that are changing lives.

This exhibition is not only for social workers and adoptive or kinship families but for anyone who wants to understand better the profound work that supports families. It’s for those who believe in the power of art, the importance of early mental health intervention, and the need for stronger, more supportive systems enabling all children to thrive.

This promises to be a moving and meaningful exhibition for professionals working in social care and mental health who are interested in relational play and emotional support or working creatively, for changemakers and advocates, for families involved in adoption / fostering / kinship care, and for anyone interested in the art, process, and social issues addressed by the work of Beacon Family Services.

The exhibition is a celebration of the hope that drives us all forward, even when the journey might seem impossible.

Beacon Family Services

Based in Sutton Coldfield, Beacon Family Services is a social enterprise driven by the ethos that every child deserves the chance to thrive. The therapists, practitioners and social workers at Beacon Family Services support families in Birmingham and the UK by addressing the pressing need for early mental health support through relational, authentic, and inclusive services with proven impact. They have a wide range of fully funded programmes that can be commissioned by social workers. Their evidence-based, flexible approaches – including Theraplay® and Dyadic Developmental Psychotherapy (DDP) – provide families and professionals with the tools to foster emotional wellbeing and resilience in children, strengthening relationships and addressing behavioural challenges in a meaningful way.

Marley Starskey Butler

Marley Starskey Butler is an interdisciplinary artist and qualified social worker who lives and works in Birmingham. Their practice interweaves storytelling, memory, and emotional landscapes to explore how people make meaning of personal and collective narratives within systems of care.

Grounded in lived professional and familial experience in child protection, fostering, adoption, and mental health, their work centres on themes of well-being, social justice, and human rights. These experiences inform both the content and methodology of their practice, positioning it at an intersection of art and social care.
Recent exhibitions and projects include Thirty-Six, Midlands Art Centre, Birmingham (2024); Hospital Rooms – Sandwell CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) (2023/4); and Dwelling, Eagle Works Studios, Wolverhampton (2024)

About Eastside Projects

Eastside Projects is an artist-run public gallery and cultural space in Birmingham, UK. It commissions, produces, and exhibits contemporary art, focusing on new ideas and fostering dialogue within the city and beyond through diverse projects, residencies, and community engagement, including their “Cultural Citizens” programme.

As a platform for artists and audiences, it challenges traditional gallery models and explores new ways to support art and culture in an inclusive and accessible way.

Head to the homepage to read the latest articles about adoption, parenting and wellbeing.