IMAGINE
Imagine... Just for a second... You are a parent. It's great isn't it? Watching your child walk and talk, learn and grow. And then one day you realise... somethings wrong. You're baby isn't developing as you hoped he would.
Now, all your friends have lives of their own, you don't want to burden them with your problems, your parents are at a loss as to what to do, and too old to help, but in this day and age, that's no longer a problem.
Social Services are there for you, they want to help you, they thrive on supporting you.
You feel you are failing as a parent because you can't understand what your child is going through, you just don't know how to deal with this cruel blow that life has dealt you.
So you decide, for your child's own good, and for your own sanity, to call in the professionals who can help you, who promise to guide you, who swear they will be there with you at every obstacle, standing by your side as a carer and above all else, a friend.
You feel like a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders, you are open and honest with the lovely social worker who listens intently, it feels good to share how you are feeling with someone who understands, who sympathises with you.
As you sit talking to her, you start to cry, you truly feel for your child. Everything comes tumbling out in torrents of emotion. You tell her you just can't cope on your own anymore, everyday is a constant uphill struggle, you don't understand what your child is feeling, you even admit that you do need help, and beg them to do something, anything, just to ease the pressure. You just want to enjoy your child again.
Your nice new social worker friend takes notes, you think she is writing down your problems, not every word you say, not your actions, not the crying, not the frustration, not the anger you feel at yourself for feeling you've failed your child in some way.
But she is.
She closes her note book and stands up to leave, tells you not to worry anymore for she will fix everything and reminds you that she's always here if you need to chat.
As you thank her, she smiles and says there is no need to show her your gratitude, she is only doing her job after all.
As she leaves, and you close the door behind her, relief washes over you, like the tide ebbing over the sand, you're calmer and pleased that this nice lady came to see you.
You walk in to the bedroom to look at your child, sleeping soundly in his crib, for the first time in ages, you look at him and smile contently for you know that you will both soon be getting the help and support you need.
And so, you muddle on for a couple more days by yourself.
As you're tidying the house one day, the phone rings. You answer it and it's the nice lady that came to see you just a few days before. She talks with you about how you are and you tell her you're feeling much more better, she's pleased for you and asks you if you would like to talk through your problems with someone who can help you make sense of them. This appeals to you, after all, you've been trying to make sense of everything for months.
And so, an appointment is made. You arrange someone to look after your child for a couple of hours and walk in to the councellors office, and again all your problems come tumbling out. Like the social worker, he listens to you intently and takes notes. And again, you feel better, for having someone listen to you, and more importantly, understand you.
You leave his office feeling refreshed and on your way home, you have a spring in your step. You pick up your child from your friends and tell him that everything is going to be alright, your heart warms as he happily gurgles at you, you realise how much you cherish your child and you feel so fortunate that there are people on your side.
Again a couple of days later, your social worker calls, you're happy to hear from her, you thank her from the bottom of your heart, you tell her that the counciling session was brilliant, and you feel much better in yourself. Your social worker is happy for you and asks if you would mind your child being checked.
Of course you dont mind! Maybe now you will get the answers to all the questions buzzing round your head. Another appointment is made and you happily take your child to see the doctors.
They tell you that you can go for a coffee and a scone, and they will see to everything, you're a little wary of leaving your child but the doctors insist.
You go to the hospital canteen and have a coffee, then head back up to where your child is.
Your child is checked over by several doctors, and eventually handed back to you.
You are told that you can now go home and that someone will be in touch with you in a couple of days. You smile and thank the doctors, and leave.
A couple of days pass, and your social worker calls, asks if you can come in to see her, you quickly agree and set a date. Tomorrow
You are amazed at how quick they work, and you praise them for it.
Tomorrow comes and you and your child set off for the meeting. When you get there, you are greeted by your social worker and she guides you down a long hallway making small talk as you go. You come to a room, and sitting there around the table is your councellor, you think it's nice of him to take time out of his busy schedual to attend to a patient like this, beside him are the doctors who checked your child, innocently you think they are just a great bunch of people, there is a man there you don't know but you're not worried, he must be here to help.
You are asked to sit down, and you do so. Smiling and nodding at everyone as you do.
Your social worker sits down and the meeting begins.
It appears this lovely bunch of people have some concerns over your childs welfare, when they tell you this, you laugh in disbelief. They give each other knowing glances and nod their heads, as if they are talking in some secret language.
They tell you that you have a personality disorder, and they claim that your little 'outburst' of laughter there, proves it.
They tell you there is nothing wrong with your son, that you're just weak and not fit to be his parent.
By now you are shaking and crying, you thought these people were here to help you, not to condemn you. Your once friendly councellor glares at you and states that your overly emotional, a trait of your new found personality disorder.
You try to tell them they are wrong, that you are fine. But your pleas fall on deaf ears as they talk amongst themselves.
Your social worker stands up, she says she really wants to help you, get you better. But to do this, it is better for you and your child to be apart while you recover. She hands you papers saying all you have to do is sign and your child will be givin the best care possible and it will only be for a few weeks. You say no and you keep refusing, and they keep badgering you.
Eventually you sag, and you sign the papers, your heart breaks as your precious child is taken away and you have to return home alone.
You wait til the next day and you hear nothing from your social worker, at quarter to five you call the office, but she already left. You're aching to now how your cild is, but nobody can help you.
At nine o'clock the next morning, you call again, your social worker isn't there, by now you are frantic with worry. Its a Friday and the office is closed for the weekend, you break down and cry, you fall to your knees, you realise you are grieving, and the people who once seemed so lovely to you don't care.
You call the office continuesly throughout the day, begging to know how your son is, and everytime, the reply is the same. Nobody knows.
Somehow you make it through the weekend. Monday morning comes and by now you're angry. You're straight on the phone demanding to know how your child is, and you're told he is fine. You're social worker is back and says you have to see another counsellor and a psychologist, you agree. However, this time it is weeks before an appointment is made. You eventually get seen, and you are open and honest as you were before.
After all the assessments, another meeting is called. You go, hoping to get your baby back, but you dont. You are told the child would be at serious risk in your care, and you can't have him back.
You're lost and alone with nowhere to turn.
You believe the authorities are No match for you, but you fight on regardless.
All to no avail.
There is a court case held but the judge agrees, you are a threat to your baby.
YOU HAVE LOST. THERE IS NO WAY OUT. YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR CHILD AGAIN.
For the next 18 years, you search for your child, you miss him and buy him cards and presents for every birthday and christmas.
Till one day you recieve a call. Your child has found you and wants to meet you.
18 years have went by, and now on your doorstep is your baby. He's 18 now, a big strapping lad, you have a tear in your eye and embrace him. taking in his scent and swearing that you will remember this moment for ever.
He has a lot of unanswered questions, and you are dying to know if he has been happy. Together, piece by piece you discover the truth.
You missed out on 18 years of your childs life - FOR NOTHING!
AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT.
