social services (happy mothers day?)

All good stories have a twist to it, which I suppose means that mine at least should make it into the realms of a good story. I hope this one doesn’t make you cry, but if it does Im sorry, you can join in with me.

Last Friday we had a meeting. One that we were promised wouldn’t happen by many different people and one that came completely from nowhere. It had already been re arranged from the previous week so this added to the stress. This meeting was with a social worker to discuss the impact of my disability on my ability to be a parent.

Unfortunately this meeting is just the start of the assessment process. We now have 3 more meetings, separately to discuss in detail this impact of my disability on my ability to be a parent. It is a full social services assessment and one that is hopefully going to conclude that the only impact that it will have will be a positive one. But this is social services, so who knows.

I have unfortunately been open and honest about my disability to my midwife and doctors and nurses throughout this pregnancy. I say unfortunately, but there are some perks, which I will discuss later on. In the main though the disclosure of my impairment has been the most disabling part of being pregnant for me. Far more than the slowly decreasing mobility and the morning sickness and the other body changes, the impact that saying that I’m disabled has had is immense.

I am not treated the same as any other parent to be, and there seems to be an automatic assumption of deficit in my case. Ironically its not one that social services seem to be able to meet per sea (budget cuts seemed to be mentioned in every other sentence through this meeting) but its certainly there.

The assessment will be a bit of a crystal ball exercise. I don’t know how Im going to be a parent, or what might happen. I have never done this before. But im not allowed to say that. I have to pretend that I am fully prepared and know exactly what I am doing and not going to get anything wrong. Life within social services world is a tad idealistic and it is documented that they place a higher expectation on parents under their scrutiny.

I write all this about me, but its not that I have forgotten I have a supportive and loving husband, they have. I have to have 2 more meetings on my own and he has one of his own too. They are simply not taking into account that I need his support in order to be able to properly engage with this process. It is not as if I am reliant on him or he somehow controls me. It is well documented that I can not cope with professionals too well and I have two stock responses to these things, both of which are not effective and I can’t see ending well. I just need someone else there to keep me calm and sounding half reasonable. But theres been no consideration of this, which is ironic considering the nature of the assessment, and the alleged outcome of me being fully supported.

As I hope I don’t need to spell out, the impact of this grey cloud above our heads has been enourmous. Physically speaking I am putting this horrible cold down to the stress of the assessment. My mental health is at the worst its been for a long while, but Im not telling anyone that, again it would raise concerns and issues. On Friday night I couldn’t sleep so went down stairs and was drawn to the massive pile of baby stuff in the corner. 

Seeing all the neatly piled up clothes that we had washed the weekend before ready for when Baby comes along in a few weeks time shouldn’t have gotten me so upset that they were flung across the room, but they did. It shouldn’t have made me pick one of them up and hug it as if I had somehow lost this baby before we have even started, but it did. I can’t help these emotional responses. Im 33 weeks pregnant, im irrational and moody, and that’s nothing to do with my mental health. I never cry but I have been a lot more emotional in this pregnancy. 

They admitted they should have done this assessment by 24 weeks, but again, budget cuts. There is just no recognition of what they are doing to me, to us. These last few precious weeks are meant to be building up to baby being born and we were just started to get excited about the reality of parenthood. But these things have been robbed from us. It is not that there should be any real threat of baby being taken from us or anything  extreme, but it’s the parnoia that you just cant help feeling thanks to the stories in the media and the official way this is all happening. 

We just want to be parents. Is that so much to ask?