by Cathy Glass
Once the baby was winded, I showed Faye how to change the doll’s nappy. It was just like the real thing, only it had Velcro tabs to fasten it so it could be reused, rather than the sticky tabs of real nappies. Faye thought this was great fun and put the nappy on and took it off quite a few times.
‘I’ll show you how to clean a baby’s bottom another time,’ I said. ‘We need cotton wool and warm water, and also some cream.’
She put the nappy on one more time and then cradled the doll in her arms while I went to start making the dinner. Ten minutes later Lucy arrived home and came straight into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. I told her about the change of plans for Faye and that she was being given the chance to keep her baby. Like Paula, Lucy didn’t comment, and I guessed they both shared my concerns that Faye had an awful lot of learning to do to get anywhere near the level that was required to parent a child.
Lucy went into the living room to say hi to Faye and I heard her ask what the baby was called.
‘Snuggles,’ Faye said.
‘No, I mean, have you thought of a name for your baby?’ Lucy asked.
‘Snuggles,’ she said again.
Lucy, tired from a day at work, lost interest and went up to her room to relax and listen to music until dinner was ready. When Adrian arrived home just before six o’clock, I told him, as I’d told Lucy and Paula, of the new plans for Faye. It is important in fostering that all family members are aware of important changes to a young person’s care plan so that no one inadvertently says something inappropriate, and also so that we can all help them achieve the best possible outcome while they are with us. Fostering involves the whole family, not just the main care giver.
‘I guess that’s good news then,’ Adrian said. ‘But what will happen at the end of the six months if it doesn’t work out?’
‘The social services will apply to court to have the child freed for adoption,’ I said. ‘But I’m trying not to think of that. Faye can learn. It just takes her longer.’
He nodded thoughtfully and then went to shower and change, as he was going out after dinner.
Faye didn’t want to be separated from the doll when it was dinnertime and brought it with her to the table, and kept it tucked on her lap. With her bump in the way and her lack of coordination, it wasn’t long before gravy splashed on the doll. As I wiped it off I took the opportunity to say that it wasn’t a good idea to have a real baby at the table for this very reason – that hot food and drink could be accidentally spilt on it, and a baby’s skin is very delicate. I said there was a doll’s crib in the loft and I’d fetch it down after dinner, so she’d have somewhere comfortable and safe to leave the baby when she wasn’t holding it, just as a mother would with a real baby. I stored some larger toys in the loft and brought them down as and when they were needed by the children we fostered, as there simply wasn’t enough room in the house for all the toys I’d collected over the years. There was also a doll’s pram in the loft, but that would be far too small for Faye to practise with.
After dinner Adrian went into the loft for me and brought down the doll’s crib, which I’d wrapped in a large bin bag to protect it from dust. It was already made up with a complete set of bed linen, and I put it in the living room where Faye was. She loved it and spent the next half an hour playing: putting the doll to bed, picking it up, feeding and changing it and then putting it to bed again, all of which seemed very positive. Children and adults learn through play. She then placed the crib beside her while she watched television, left it there while she had a bath, and then returned to the sofa in her dressing gown to watch more television.
‘Faye,’ I said gently. ‘You do realize that if that was a real baby it would be crying to be fed every two to three hours. You’ve been able to eat dinner, watch television, have your bath and then watch more television without being disturbed. That wouldn’t happen with a real baby. You would have fed and changed it at least twice during the evening. And it might have taken a while to resettle, so you will have missed some of your programme.’ She needed to know the reality.
She smiled amicably and I don’t think she had the least idea of the point I was making. ‘A baby demands a lot of attention and its needs always come first,’ I added.
She smiled again and returned to the television. Again, I thought we could have done with one of those life-size electronic baby-simulator dolls that are programmed to cry every few hours and react to external stimuli. They’re used in teaching situations and can’t be switched off. They record if the baby’s needs are being met, how it’s handled and how long it’s left unattended. But I didn’t force the issue. Faye was happy and we’d covered a lot during the first day.
When it was nine o’clock she wanted to take the doll and the crib up with her to bed, which seemed like a good idea, as in reality she would have her baby in her room with her at night. Although, again, that was the only similarity, for this ‘baby’ wouldn’t be waking her every two to three hours to be fed and changed, and then possibly still cry and need soothing and resettling to go back to sleep. Faye liked her sleep and needed it. How would she cope with being woken every few hours? As every parent knows, sleep deprivation takes its toll; no matter how much you love your baby, you can feel utterly wretched without enough sleep.
During the evening I’d wondered a few times how Stan and Wilma had reacted when Becky had told them of the change in Faye’s care plan. I was soon to find out. Having said goodnight to Faye, Snuggles and the baby doll, I came downstairs and sat in the living room. The girls were in their rooms, doing their own thing or getting ready for bed, and Adrian was out. It was nearly nine forty-five when the landline rang. ‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Cathy, it’s Stan.’ His voice was low and subdued. I felt my pulse step up a beat.
‘Hello, Stan.’
‘I hope I’m not disturbing you. You can probably guess why I’m phoning.’
‘About the change in the care plan?’
‘Yes. Wilma was going to call you but she’s too upset.’
‘I’m sorry.’
There was a pause before Stan said, ‘I really don’t know what to think. Wilma is blaming herself. She says that if Faye had stayed here with us then the idea of keeping the baby would never have occurred to her.’
‘Wilma shouldn’t blame herself,’ I said. Although it was true that Faye had been living in Wilma’s shadow, and since coming to me she’d begun to find herself, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, was it? ‘I hope you don’t think I persuaded Faye to change her mind.’
‘No. Becky said it was Faye’s idea, but I think we should have been consulted before any decision was made. We’ve brought her up and we know her best. We’ve had very little help from the social services all these years, and now they’re trying to drive a wedge between us and take Faye.’ Which was how many parents felt when the social services became involved in their family.
‘What has Becky said?’ I asked. ‘You know I wasn’t aware of the decision while we were out earlier today.’ I didn’t want him to think I’d been keeping it a secret. ‘Becky telephoned me just before she telephoned you.’
‘I know. She said she’d just spoken to you. She was nice enough. But she said that, as Faye was an adult, she had the right to have her wishes taken into account, and they thought it was appropriate for her to be given the chance to look after the baby. I think she said for six months. But then what? Becky knows we can’t look after the baby and Faye. It’s as much as we can do to look after ourselves.’
‘The staff at the mother-and-baby unit will teach Faye parenting skills,’ I said. ‘As well as assess her.’
‘I know, and Becky said you would be helping her too. But what good will that do in the end? Unless there is a miracle, the baby will still have to go for adoption at the end of six months and it will be more upsetting then. Faye might be an adult in age, but she’s a child in all other respects. You know that.’
‘I understand how diff
icult it is,’ I said. ‘I can’t promise a miracle, but now the decision has been made to allow Faye to try to keep her baby, I will do all I can to help her. If she is able to parent the baby then perhaps adult social services will be able to find long-term support. I don’t know what’s available.’
‘Nothing, as far as we know. It’s usually the family that steps in, and we’re Faye’s only relatives.’
Had the baby’s father been known then the social services would have explored that avenue to see if the father or one of his close relatives could help long term, or even foster or adopt the child. Relatives are always considered by the social services as the next best option if a parent can’t look after their child.
‘I don’t know what else I can say, Stan,’ I said. I felt dreadful. He sounded low and very different from the man who’d proudly taken us all out to lunch earlier.
There was a pause before he said, ‘Could you try and persuade Faye not to go ahead with this? I know she can be stubborn, but she may listen to you. It would be best in the long run.’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t do that,’ I said. ‘It would be unethical for me as a foster carer, and also against my own personal feelings. I have to help Faye and give her every chance. I hope you understand.’
‘Wilma said you’d say that, but it won’t be you who has to deal with the mess when it goes wrong and she comes back to us.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. I didn’t know what else to say.
He wound up by saying a rather curt goodbye and that they’d see Faye as usual the day after tomorrow. I felt bad, but there was nothing else I could have said or done, and I hoped Stan and Wilma wouldn’t put pressure on Faye to change her mind when they saw her, for I thought it could backfire. Faye wanted to try to keep her baby and, difficult though it was for them to accept, her grandparents needed to respect her decision.
Chapter Fifteen
Optimistic
The following morning Faye brought the crib with the baby doll in it downstairs and set it on the floor beside her while she ate her breakfast. I had to chivvy her along, as we had an antenatal appointment at 9.45. Despite using the time chart on her bedroom wall, Faye was taking so much longer to do everything now that she was feeding and changing the ‘baby’. While this was of course similar to what would happen in real life – it takes forever to get out of the house with a young baby – I didn’t think we were going be able to use the doll as an excuse if we were late for the appointment. Faye also went to the toilet, forgetting that she needed to take a urine sample with her to the clinic, so we had to wait until the mug of tea had worked its way through and she could produce a sample.
I didn’t see a problem in Faye bringing the baby doll with us until we were in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery when I heard a young boy say to his mother, ‘Look, Mum, that woman is playing with a doll and she’s grown up.’
Faye didn’t appear embarrassed by the comment, but I was for her, and while I let her continue to hold the doll I took away the toy feeding bottle and put it in my bag for safe keeping. When it was our turn to go in she carried the doll in her arms across the waiting room and to the consultation room, as one would a baby. It was the same midwife as before and she smiled as we entered.
‘No Snuggles today?’ she asked, glancing at the doll.
‘He’s on my bed at Cathy’s,’ Faye said as we sat down. I passed the maternity folder and sample pot to the midwife. ‘I’m keeping my baby. So I’m learning how to look after it,’ Faye said.
The midwife looked at me questioningly.
‘Faye’s been practising on the doll,’ I clarified. ‘I’m doing what I can to teach her. Once the baby is born she’ll be going to a mother-and-baby unit.’ I didn’t know how much the midwife knew.
She nodded and brought up Faye’s details on the computer screen and then asked her, ‘So, how have you been, Faye?’
‘I’m all right,’ Faye said.
She smiled. ‘You don’t make much fuss, do you? Some women find the last trimester of pregnancy very uncomfortable.’
‘Faye rarely complains,’ I said. ‘I know she’s uncomfortable sometimes because I see her shift position or rub her tummy, but she doesn’t say.’
‘Well, that bodes well for the delivery then,’ the midwife quipped, throwing Faye a smile. ‘Let’s check your blood pressure first. I’ll also have to take a blood sample this week.’ She stood and, taking the pressure sleeve from the desk, placed it around Faye’s upper arm.
Faye cradled the doll as the midwife took her blood pressure and then a blood sample, weighed and measured her, and checked the urine sample, the results of which were all normal. She took the doll with her to the couch and held it beside her as the midwife applied the gel and then ran the Doppler over her bump. The baby’s heartbeat sounded loud and clear.
‘My baby,’ Faye announced proudly with a huge smile.
‘Yes, it is,’ the midwife said. ‘It’s got a good, strong heartbeat.’
‘I’m keeping my baby,’ Faye told her again.
‘I know, you said.’ It was impossible to gauge what the midwife thought of this; her tone and manner were completely professional.
Faye returned to sit beside me, the doll on her lap, as the midwife updated the maternity folder and then the computer. As she finished she asked us, ‘Have you been going to the antenatal classes?’
Faye looked at me.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t thought appropriate before. Perhaps we should go now, though?’
‘The classes can be useful,’ she said. ‘You’ll have missed some, but it might be worth going to the remaining ones. Faye would have been given a sheet with the dates and times at her first visit to the hospital.’
‘I’ll find out,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’ I knew I hadn’t seen this timetable so I guessed Wilma hadn’t passed it on, as Faye wouldn’t be going to them.
We said goodbye, and as we left the midwife reminded us to collect another sample pot from reception and to make an appointment for the next antenatal visit in two weeks’ time.
Once home I made us a drink and a snack as Faye went upstairs and fetched Snuggles. She laid him in the cot beside the baby doll and then played with them both. And it was playing, as a young child might play, rather than practising parenting. I wasn’t sure how much use this was, and I was concerned that Faye might think she could play with a newborn baby like a toy, so I pointed out the differences. Then I opened the laptop and brought up a good website I’d found, which had detailed pictures of many aspects of parenting. I clicked through to the page that showed the correct way to hold a baby and how it should lie in a cot, and showed Faye.
‘Look at the picture of the baby,’ I said, pointing to the screen. ‘You always lie a baby on its back with its feet at the very bottom of the cot so it can’t slip down under the covers.’
But Faye wasn’t interested. She glanced at the screen and then continued to play with Snuggles and the doll, so I closed the laptop and said we’d have a look at it again later. Faye’s attention span could be limited sometimes, like a child’s, and it was no good forcing learning upon her if she wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
Becky telephoned that afternoon to advise me she’d arranged a review for the following Monday at Wilma and Stan’s flat at two o’clock, and I was invited. I updated Becky on the antenatal appointment, including that the midwife had suggested Faye go to the antenatal classes. Becky said she wasn’t sure how much Faye would gain from the classes, but I could try one and see how it went. I said I’d telephone the hospital to find out the dates. I told her I was using a doll to teach Faye, and I asked her if she knew where I could borrow an electronic baby-simulator doll from, as I thought it could be very useful. She agreed it would be useful and said she’d look into it. I also said that I thought I should go shopping with Faye soon to start buying what she needed for the baby, and I mentioned some of the items on my list.
‘Buy the essentials,’ Beck
y said. ‘First-size babygrows, nappies, lotions, bottles, formula and so on, but not the big items. The home has all the equipment Faye will need for the baby and she can borrow one of their prams.’
From which I assumed that Becky wasn’t looking further than the initial six months, which may have been practical but was also disheartening.
I telephoned the hospital maternity unit and it took a while to find the right person to speak to about the antenatal classes. Then I was told that Faye should have filled in a form at the start to say she wanted to attend the classes, as numbers were limited, but when I explained the position the person I was speaking to said she would be able to attend the two remaining classes, and also visit the maternity unit, which she was already booked into. I said I would be accompanying Faye and I was her birthing partner. She said that was fine, most mothers had someone with them – their partner, mother or a friend – and you were allowed up to two people in the delivery room with you.
That afternoon I tried again to teach Faye the correct way to hold a baby and lay it in its cot. This time with more success. She’d tired of playing with Snuggles and the doll as toys by then and was now treating the doll like a baby again. I emphasized how important it was to always lay the baby in the cot the way I was showing her: on its back with its feet at the very the bottom of the cot so it couldn’t slip under the covers and become overheated. I didn’t go into the reasons why this position was recommended – that research had shown it reduced the number of cot deaths, also known as Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS), as Faye would have found it too confusing and possibly upsetting. She practised with the doll a number of times, putting it to bed in the correct position, getting it up, feeding and winding it, and then settling it in its cot again. She did well, I praised her, and again I felt we were making good progress.
Edith, my support social worker, telephoned that afternoon and I updated her on Faye. She said she’d been in contact with Becky to see how things were going and would visit me the following week. Had I been fostering a child Edith would have normally come to the review, but she didn’t feel this was necessary, as it was only a short meeting compared to a child’s review. We arranged a date and time for her visit and I asked her, too, if she knew where I could borrow an electronic baby-simulator doll. She said she knew secondary schools used them, but didn’t know where I could hire one from and that she’d look into it.
