When Sarah took on the full-time care of her newborn niece she wasn’t prepared for how alone she would feel or how much she would doubt her ability to be everything the little one needed. With support from Family Action, she found that she was more than enough, and began to thrive in her new kinship care role.
It’s the time they call the witching hour in childcare circles – just before bed – and my niece has been screaming for hours on end because of chronic constipation and colic. Nowadays I know that some babies are just inconsolable, and you’re not “failing”, but I didn’t know what to do at the time.
There wasn’t any support from family nearby, so ultimately it felt like it was just me. It was winter and I remember she went through a stage where she didn’t like going outside in the pram, and I wasn’t having anyone round because I was terrified she’d start screaming.
I was alone with her 24/7, and I felt isolated and trapped; I thought ‘I’ve given up life for this baby and I’m not good enough’.
A whole new world of kinship care
I never wanted children – I can remember feeling that way even as a child. It’s one of the most difficult jobs in the world, it’s a huge responsibility, and one I never wanted.
But I got a call from my new-born niece’s social worker asking if I would be willing to work with social services as a kinship carer. My brother and his partner love her very much, but at that point they weren’t able to raise her due to a chaotic lifestyle. I accepted – thinking it would be a temporary thing.
It was difficult as I was single and I was doing this myself and, if I was lucky, I would have maybe two percent of my time to myself each day. That came to a head on Christmas day, when I was sitting there doing bicycle legs with her to relieve her constipation for hours, and she spent most of the day in tears. Who am I kidding? We both spent most of the day in tears.
Finding Family Action
The health visitor put me in touch with Family Action’s perinatal services. Over the coming weeks we both started to become more confident. I’d not really gone to playgroups or interacted with other parents, but we attended things like Family Action’s Smoothie and Snuggles sessions, and she started to be comfortable around other people.
Their dedication and level of service blew me away. Getting me out of the house was a big thing, but they went above and beyond.
I learnt to sing to her and distract her, and that progress gave me the confidence to work with Family Action to find other things we could do in the local area. Emma got me in contact with her colleague Sarah who does baby massage. And… the constipation one worked like a charm!
Family Action also helped me with little tips, like trying white noise to help her to sleep, which really works for us, and gave me games I could play with her that I still do now. Emma also got me knowledgeable about baby groups and helped me attend days out for a picnic at the park and the seaside.
They would check up with me regularly to see if I’m ok and send me random messages filled with empathy, check whether I was coming to activities or needed a lift, take me to care meetings, introduce me to other charities and give me links to videos and resources that would help.
Mostly, though, they told me that I was doing the best I could and that they were there for me if I needed to talk.
Looking to the future
The skills I’ve been given by Family Action have helped with how I think about my responsibilities and allowed me to keep a level head and not be overly anxious. When was she fed? Have I taken her temperature? I realised that as long as she’s safe in her Moses basket I could step outside and take a deep breath.
I used to have a TV on the floor with art journals and comics, but now I have a play pen that takes up most of the front room. Nine times out of ten I’m in the playpen with her and she’s quite happy. I think she’s pleased that she can always see me so I can say peekaboo and reassure her that I’m right there.
I’m not her mum, and there are conversations to be had in future, as I’m mixed race and she’s not, but that’s okay as all these conversations will help her know who she is. But those conversations will come later.
I call her my deice – daughter and niece - so I guess I’m Mauntie!
For now, she’s nearly a year old and she’s 20 pounds…. She’s a chunky bubba, which is a problem as I REALLY need her pushchair to last a bit longer. She’s babbling and sitting and waiting for me to read to her, which she loves.
It’s funny… if I want to try to be better as a person she’s the sole motivation, and I almost wish I could have the same impulses in any other part of my life. There’s a drive to provide for her because it’s not just me.
I can’t go out to the pub or art galleries, or bike rides any more. I’ve had to give up any possible future I had, and every decision now has to take her into consideration.
And if I had to? I’d do it all again. She’s worth it.
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Over 130,000 children are estimated to live in kinship care in England. With your support, we can help more Kinship Carers like Sarah provide stable homes in which children can thrive.
