12 Things I Wish I'd Known Before Becoming an SGO Kinship Carer

12 Things I Wish I'd Known Before Becoming an SGO Kinship Carer

Thirteen years ago, I thought I understood what we were agreeing to when we said yes to becoming special guardians for our SGO child. I knew we would be raising another child. I knew there would be changes to our family life. I knew it was a serious commitment. What I did not know was how much I still had to learn.

I did not understand the reality of childhood trauma, how complicated relationships with birth parents could become, or how quickly the support around us might disappear. I had no idea how much time I would spend reading reports, filling in forms, chasing professionals and trying to explain our SGO child needs to people who had never met them.

I have thought about those early days many times. Sometimes I wish I could sit beside the version of myself who was frightened of saying the wrong thing to social services and tell them that asking questions was allowed. Sometimes I wish I could warn myself about the relationships that would change, the exhaustion, and the guilt I would carry about the effect on our other children.

I would still say yes. That matters to me. I can be grateful that our SGO child is part of our everyday lives and still admit that some years were desperately hard. I do not think those feelings cancel each other out.

This is our experience, thirteen years into Special Guardianship. It is not a description of every kinship family, and I know that other families have very different experiences of local authorities, birth parents and support. These are simply the things I wish I had known before we became SGO kinship carers.

1. I would ask more questions, even when I felt frightened

At the beginning, I trusted the professionals to tell us what we needed to know. We had never been through an SGO assessment before, so why wouldn't we? We were told adoption proceedings had begun alongside our assessment. I heard that as a warning that if we did not step forward, we might lose our SGO Child from our family altogether.

We were also told that Special Guardianship, rather than fostering, was the route we needed to take because of stability and the timescales involved. I felt we had to move quickly. Looking back, I wish I had asked what each option would mean for our SGO child and for us, and what we could expect once the court process ended.

I cannot go back and change those conversations. What I can say is that I now know the difference between being cooperative and being afraid to challenge something I do not understand. I would tell myself to write down every question, ask for answers in writing and seek independent advice. A decision this big deserves more than a hurried explanation.

2. I would never rely on a verbal promise of support

During our assessment, one social worker advised us to appoint a solicitor and said the local authority would pay the fees. We acted on that advice. Later, we were told the fees would not be covered, leaving us with a bill of more than £1,000.

I still remember the feeling of being left to sort it out. The money mattered, of course, but what stayed with me was the realisation that what one professional said did not necessarily carry through to the next. We had several social workers over roughly six months. People changed roles and sometimes we only discovered a change after the fact.

If I could do it again, I would ask for written confirmation of legal costs, financial assistance, therapeutic support and the Special Guardianship support plan. I would ask who was responsible for each promise and what happened if our circumstances changed. I have learnt that support described in a meeting is not the same thing as support arriving when a family needs it.

3. I would believe that family relationships really can change

I remember being warned that taking on a Special Guardianship Order could fracture family relationships. I thought our family would be different. I believed people would understand that we were trying to keep our SGO child within the family rather than risk them being adopted outside it.

Some relatives did not agree with our decision. There were difficult conversations, hurt feelings and relationships that broke down. I was shocked by how personally I took it. We were already coping with a huge change at home, and suddenly I felt I had to defend the reason we had stepped forward.

Some relationships have healed over the years, which I am grateful for. Others never quite returned to how they were. I would tell myself not to spend so much energy trying to convince everyone. I could listen to their feelings without allowing them to decide what was right for our household. I wish I had understood earlier that doing something for a child can still come with painful losses of your own.

4. I would learn about early childhood trauma from day one

Our SGO child came to us as a very young baby, only weeks old. We were reassured that because they were so young and would have a loving, stable home, they would settle and be fine. I clung to that reassurance because I wanted it to be true.

As they grew, I began to see that early experiences can leave their mark even when a child cannot explain or remember them in words. I had to very quickly learn about attachment, emotional regulation, fear, trust and the ways distress can appear as behaviour. I also had to learn not to assume that every difficult moment was simply naughtiness or defiance.

I do not believe every child who enters care will experience the same difficulties. I do believe children deserve adults who understand the possibility of trauma and know when to ask for help. Love has always mattered in our home, but love alone could not teach me everything I needed to know. I wish trauma informed support had been offered to us at the beginning rather than something we had to discover later.

5. I would prepare for the silence after the SGO

During the assessment, independence was spoken about as a good thing. Once the SGO was completed, we would be able to get on with family life without social services being involved all the time. At that stage I thought that sounded wonderful.

What I did not appreciate was how lonely it could feel when the professionals stepped away. The court order did not magically resolve the anger, grief and conflict around our family. We were still dealing with the birth parents and with the emotional impact on our SGO child, but without the same people around us to mediate difficult situations.

I would tell myself to ask before the order was made who to contact if arrangements broke down, if threats were made, or if our SGO child's needs became more complicated. I would want clear information about requesting a reassessment of support. I know Special Guardianship is meant to give a child permanence. I have learnt that permanence should not mean a family has to manage every difficulty alone.

6. I would stop taking every accusation to heart

In our experience, the birth parents blamed us for the fact that our SGO child was not living with them. We were accused of stealing their child. I found that deeply upsetting because it was not how I saw our role at all. We had stepped forward because a child we loved needed somewhere safe to grow up.

I can recognise that losing the care of a child must bring grief and anger. I can hold that understanding and still say that threats, intimidation and abuse were not acceptable. At times, the hostility unsettled our entire household.

Thirteen years later, I wish I had known that I did not have to defend myself in every argument. I could keep boundaries, record worrying incidents and put our family's safety first. I would tell myself that somebody else's version of events did not have to become my own.

7. I would think more carefully about the impact on our other children

I knew bringing another child into our home would affect everyone, but I did not understand the full extent of it. Our other children had to live alongside the difficult days, the changes in routine and the attention that our SGO child sometimes needed.

There were times when I felt guilty that I had brought so much disruption into their lives. I wondered whether they felt overlooked, whether I was being fair, and whether I was doing enough for each of them. Those are hard questions for any parent, but they felt particularly heavy when I was already exhausted.

8. I would expect support to involve paperwork and persistence

I wish someone had explained how much of our lives could be taken up by applications, reports, assessments and repeated explanations. Over the years, we have had to learn about the Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund, often shortened to ASGSF, and about Education, Health and Care Plans, or EHCPs.

Sometimes it felt as though I had to prove the same difficulties again and again to a new person. I would gather evidence, explain what was happening at home and school, and then wait. Waiting is especially difficult when a child is struggling now, not six months from now.

I have become better at keeping records and asking for written decisions. I would tell myself to start a folder early, keep copies of everything and write down names and dates after important calls. I would also tell myself to rest when possible. Constantly fighting for support can become its own source of exhaustion.

9. I would look beneath behaviour before reacting to it

One of the biggest changes in me has been learning to ask what might be behind a behaviour rather than only looking at the behaviour itself. That has not always been easy, particularly on days when everyone is tired and emotions are running high.

I have learnt that anxiety, sensory overwhelm, uncertainty, rejection and difficulty regulating emotions can all affect how a child responds to everyday situations. When neurodivergence is part of family life, I have also learnt not to assume that every struggle has the same cause. Trauma and neurodivergent needs can overlap, but they are not interchangeable.

I still get things wrong. I still have moments when I respond too quickly or wish I had handled something differently. I would tell myself that learning matters more than pretending to have all the answers. Our SGO child needed adults who were willing to understand them, not adults who never made mistakes.

10. I would understand the devastating impact when birth parents suddenly disappear

When our SGO child was younger, they had regular contact with their birth parent. What I never expected was for those visits to suddenly stop altogether.

The birth parent walked away, blocked me and cut off all communication. There was no explanation, no goodbye and seemingly no thought for how their disappearance would affect their child.

Our SGO child hasn't seen their birth parents for years now, at the time of being abandon again, the impact was devastating.

For a child already living with early childhood trauma, this sudden abandonment added another layer of rejection, confusion and heartbreak. We watched the trauma we had been trying so hard to understand become even more difficult to manage.

I struggled to understand how anyone could simply disappear from their child's life, knowing the hurt it would cause.

How do you explain something like that to a child when you don't have the answers yourself?

I couldn't make their birth parents come back. I couldn't take away the pain or make sense of their decision. All I could do was continue providing the love, reassurance and stability our SGO child needed.

Looking back, I wish I had understood just how deeply the sudden loss of contact could affect a child already carrying so much trauma.

11. I would make space for the questions that grow with a child

When our SGO child was a baby, I was thinking about feeding, sleeping and keeping them safe. I had not fully considered the questions that would come as they got older. Why did this happen? Why couldn't I stay? Was it my fault? Why did somebody not come when they said they would?

I have seen how the same story can feel different at different ages. A child who accepts a simple explanation when they are small may revisit it as a teenager with much harder questions. I have had to learn to listen, and not to rush in with reassurance before I have heard what they are really asking.

I would tell myself that I do not need a perfect answer to every question. Sometimes the most important thing I can offer is a safe place to be angry, sad, confused or curious. Our SGO child's story belongs to them. My job is to help them make sense of it with honesty, care and respect.

12. I would be kinder to myself on the days I felt I couldn't cope

There have been days when I have questioned my ability to do this. Days when I have felt exhausted by the appointments, the emotional strain, the paperwork and the feeling that there was always another problem waiting to be solved.

I used to think that struggling meant I was failing. I know now that compassion fatigue is real and that loving a child does not make a person endlessly resilient. I have had to learn that asking for help is not weakness, and that I cannot pour everything into everybody else without eventually running on empty.

If I could go back, I would tell myself to notice the ordinary good days as well as the crises. The laughter at home. The conversations that show how much our SGO child has grown. The moments when they trust us with something difficult. The quiet pride of seeing the kind, thoughtful teenager they are becoming.

I would still choose this life with them. I would simply wish for more understanding, more support and a little more kindness towards the person I was while I learnt how to live it.

What thirteen years have taught me

Me and my husband started this journey believing that saying yes was the biggest part of becoming a kinship carer. I now know that saying yes was only the beginning.

I have learnt to speak up, to keep records, to question decisions and to ask for help even when I am tired of asking. I have learnt that a child can be safe and loved and still carry difficult feelings about their early life. I have learnt that family can be complicated, that progress is rarely straightforward and that I do not have to pretend every part of this has been wonderful.

Most of all, I have learnt that our SGO child is so much more than the circumstances that brought them to us. They are growing into their own person, with their own opinions, strengths, worries and hopes. Seeing them happy, growing and finding their way matters more to me than I can properly put into words.

If you are at the beginning of an SGO assessment or have only recently become a kinship carer, I hope something in our experience helps you feel less alone. I cannot tell you what your journey will look like. I can only tell you what I wish I had known about ours.

About me

I'm a married mum of four children, and we are special guardians and kinship carers to one of them. Our Special Guardianship journey began in 2012, and it has taught me more about family, resilience, childhood trauma and myself than I could ever have imagined.

I live with several chronic illnesses and disabilities, including ME/CFS, fibromyalgia, spinal stenosis and chronic pain, which bring their own challenges to everyday family life.

Writing has become a way for me to share our experiences, reflect on the difficult moments and hopefully help others feel less alone. Through Cracked Nails & Split Ends, I write openly about kinship care, Special Guardianship, parenting, chronic illness and the realities of family life. I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I believe there is value in sharing what life is really like, including the parts that aren't always easy to talk about.

Related reading on my blog

Our experience with social services during our Special Guardianship journey

How the Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund helped our SGO placement

Editorial note: Check the two related article URLs before publishing. Suggested SEO phrases woven naturally into this post include SGO kinship carer, Special Guardianship Order, kinship care support, childhood trauma, birth family contact and ASGSF.