I have never told a 'Twitter Story' - this is always more of a 'work' space for me, but this week feels like a good time to revisit & reflect on the 'overlapped' part of my life. This picture was taken almost 17 years ago. In it, I am 22. I had been qualified less than 6 months. 
T had just turned 2. She had sustained scald injuries to 33% of her body. NAI. She was unusual - for her 3 month inpatient stay she was on the ward alone without a main carer. So a core team of ward staff became her main carers. I was her Play Specialist & I saw her every day.
I provided daily play. I helped at mealtimes. She had MRSA - we went for lots of walks. I was at every bath (which was really a dressing change). I took her to theatre & was there in recovery. I waved her off as she went to foster care. I went to court - twice - to give evidence.
20 months after the first picture was taken, T moved into our house as our daughter. 20 months after that her adoption was approved by a family court judge. All the roles changed - patient to daughter, Play Lady to mummy, Family Support Worker husband to dad.
A rollercoaster ride began (I'm not convinced it will ever stop). I now know a lot about the impact of early childhood trauma because we live it every day. We've faced complex PTSD, DID, attachment disorder, operations, laser surgery - & crushing, exhausting secondary trauma...
...we also added three more children (by birth) to the mix. So T has been our eldest of four. And, in spite of all the emotional white-water rafting, family life is happy. There is often a lot of silliness and shared affection - and arguing, oh my goodness the arguing....
This week I'm reflective & thoughtful - remembering that little, alone person, so badly hurt & so much in need of connection. That connection was achieved first through play & has been sustained many times since through sheer determination when connection was just painful & hard.
On Friday, T heads off to University to study Occupational Therapy 🙂 It's only Monday but already I'm a bit overwhelmed by excitement for her, pride at her achievements when sometimes the odds were huge, anxiety around how she will cope & a touch of grief that comes with change
Independent living was never a given - time will still tell. But I love her & I am immensely proud to be her Mum 💜 So my Twitter Story was really a connection story. An adoption story. A play story. (And a gentle reminder to be careful about taking your work home with you... 😉)
I have been a bit overwhelmed by all the lovely responses to my Twitter Story today - thank you. This is a new chapter beginning - none of us know how it will turn out, but T has lots of support awaiting at Uni & I'm convinced that she will make a smashing OT one day.
Worth also saying: 1 This man is an absolute star - a brilliant Dad. 2 On many days we've not felt at all brave, heroic or capable. Some days we've felt utterly wrung-out in every possible way. Gin, chocolate, swearing & laughter help - & friends. We have some smashing friends 💜
