When a Child's Birth Parents Leave: Supporting a Child Through Loss and Confusion

My darling little girl, I am so sorry.

There are times as a parent when you would give absolutely anything to take away your child's pain. You would gladly carry it yourself if you could. You would take every tear, every question and every moment of sadness if it meant they did not have to experience it.

This is one of those times.

When you came to live with us at just five months old, I made you a promise. I promised that I would protect you, love you and give you a safe and happy home.

You had been placed into foster care when you were only three weeks old. From the very beginning, we fought to bring you home with us. When you finally came to live with us, you were still such a tiny baby, and I remember knowing that I wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.

Four years later, I find myself feeling as though I have failed you.

Not because I haven't loved you enough. Not because I haven't tried to protect you.

But because I cannot protect you from everything.

When a child's birth parents come in and out of their life

For a long time, your birth parents were part of your life.

They visited you. They took you out for the day. They built a relationship with you and became part of your memories.

You trusted them.

You believed the things they told you and you cherished the time you spent with them. As a little girl, you did not question why they came and went. You simply loved them.

And then, suddenly, they stopped coming.

There was no proper goodbye. No explanation that you could understand. They were simply no longer there.

And I watched you try to make sense of it.

I watched a little girl who had already experienced separation at such a young age have to deal with another person leaving her life.

That is incredibly difficult to watch as a parent.

The questions I don't know how to answer

You ask me questions.

Why did they leave?

Where have they gone?

When are they coming back?

What did I do?

Why don't they want to see me?

And perhaps the hardest question of all is the one you sometimes ask without actually saying it.

Was it my fault?

My heart breaks every time I see you trying to understand something that is far too complicated for such a young child.

I don't always know what to say.

There are things I could tell you. There are things I feel angry about. There are things I wish were different.

But I have to put my own feelings aside because this isn't about me.

It is about you.

I don't want my anger or disappointment to become another burden for you to carry. I don't want you to feel that you have to choose sides. I don't want to make an already confusing situation even more painful.

So sometimes I don't have the perfect answer.

Sometimes I simply hold you.

I kiss you.

I tell you that I love you.

And I remind you that you are safe.

You are not to blame

You are innocent.

You have done absolutely nothing wrong.

I wish I could make you understand that.

I wish I could take away the worry that sits inside you when you wonder whether you have somehow caused people to leave.

You haven't.

None of this is your fault.

You are a little girl who deserves to feel loved, wanted and safe.

You deserve to know that the decisions made by adults are not your responsibility.

And I hope that one day, when you are older, you will understand just how deeply loved you have always been.

I may not have given birth to you, but you are my little girl

I didn't give birth to you.

But I have loved you every single day since you came into our lives.

I have cared for you through the nights when you wouldn't sleep, the tears, the cuddles, the laughter, the tantrums, the milestones and all of the ordinary little moments that make up childhood.

I have watched you grow.

I have watched your personality develop.

I have watched you become your own little person.

And being your mum isn't about biology.

It is about being there.

It is about loving you.

It is about making sure you know that you have a home.

It is about being the person who is there when you wake up and the person who is still there when you go to bed.

Most importantly, it is about making sure you know that you don't have to earn my love.

You already have it.

Completely.

When children fear being left

One of the things that has been hardest to see is how much you worry about people disappearing.

Sometimes you worry that I will leave.

Sometimes you worry that you might disappear too.

I reassure you as much as I can.

I tell you that you are safe.

I tell you that this is your home.

I tell you that I love you.

I want you to grow up knowing that you are secure and that you belong.

I can't control the decisions other people make, and perhaps that is the hardest lesson I have had to learn as a parent.

I cannot protect you from every disappointment.

I cannot make everyone behave in the way I wish they would.

I cannot prevent people from hurting you.

But I can be here afterwards.

I can listen.

I can cuddle you.

I can answer the questions I can answer.

And when I don't know what to say, I can still hold your hand.

I haven't failed you

I started this letter by saying that I have let you down.

But perhaps that isn't fair.

Perhaps protecting your child doesn't mean preventing them from ever experiencing pain.

Perhaps sometimes it means standing beside them while they experience something painful and making sure they don't have to go through it alone.

I wish I could have stopped this hurt from happening.

I wish you had never had to experience the confusion of someone you love suddenly disappearing from your life.

But I cannot change what has happened.

What I can do is make sure that you know you are loved.

I can give you a safe home.

I can listen to your questions.

I can reassure you when you are frightened.

And I can remind you, over and over again, that none of this is your fault.

You are my little girl.

You always have been.

And I promise that I will continue to love you, care for you and be here for you.

Because sometimes being a parent isn't about being able to fix everything.

Sometimes it is simply about staying.

And I will stay.