Clive vividly remembers the day when, without warning or time to work out what he was really letting himself in for, he became a kinship carer. She looked so calm and so comfy, absolutely oblivious about what’s just happened. It was just me and her and a little suitcase with some belongings in it.
I’m a teacher, but training as a teacher does not prepare you for looking after a baby. I didn’t have anything.” A few hours earlier, Clive, a primary school headteacher, had taken a call at work from children’s services. He assumed it would be about one of his pupils, but it was about his six-week-old niece.
Would he, as a family member, take her into temporary care? I’ll need to put a few things in place, so just give me a couple of days.’ They were like: ‘No, she needs to come to you today. We need to drop her off at four o’clock.’ “I was kind of like: ‘Well, what happens if I don’t say yes today?’ They said they’d have to come up with ‘other options’.
So I started to panic: what if she goes into foster care or for adoption? So I said yes – and deal with the consequences later.” “I went home and just sat there waiting. It was a bit bizarre because I don’t think I’ve ever been home at 3.30pm on a school day before.
And then social care came, dropped her off. I was career-driven all the time. And then a baby was sprung on me that I’d never planned for.” Clive, then 32, would now admit he was naive about the consequences of the decision that changed his life.
Nine years on, with the “temporary” stay having become permanent, “Uncle Clive” is Savannah’s legal guardian, though she is in regular contact with her birth parents. He adores her, and theirs is a heartwarming kinship success story. She still has the pink blanket.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
