I have not done the exact calculations but, looking at the dates, I can be pretty confident that I was experiencing a second miscarriage around the same time as Nicola Sturgeon was experiencing hers.
At the time, she was secretary of state for health, and I was the health correspondent for BBC Scotland. Our paths crossed all the time. We were going through exactly the same traumatic experience and dusting ourselves down, keeping our emotional secrets, smiling and getting on with the job.
The lack of a successful pregnancy led me down a road which Nicola Sturgeon is now considering herself – fostering and adoption. We are adoptive parents and, for a while, we were also respite foster carers (looking after foster children for short periods to give their full-time carers a break). It’s been quite a journey.
Much like being first minister, the learning takes place on-the-job in an environment which is very unforgiving. The “preparation sessions” last just a few weeks, and the most useful lessons are not in the classroom but in the toilets. This is where we met up with other prospective adopters and shared stories of lost paperwork, the mysteries of the children’s hearings system, and the latest waiting times for placements.
Once in the job, Nicola will face more challenging behaviour than anything Boris Johnson could throw at her – and that’s just the social workers! There are amazing people in the social work field, but there are also some who cannot see past their own childhood trauma (which draws them to the profession in the first place), and others who are just plain space cadets.
When it comes to the children, Nicola will need to draw upon all her leadership skills: patience, cunning problem-solving abilities, and a sense of perspective. How would Nicola resolve a major meltdown with no obvious cause?
And the former FM will probably need to abandon any notion of observing her own healthy eating targets when the inevitable happens and she is faced with a young person who refuses point-blank to eat anything unless it’s orange (apart from carrots). It’ll be spaghetti hoops and fried chicken every night.
I hope she’s not squeamish, because there will be a lot of wee and poo, with accidents most likely to occur in exciting environments like the homes of middle-class friends or the beautiful atrium of a museum. She will need a sense of humour and a German-made washing machine.
This time, there will be no cabinet colleagues to turn to for support – your children’s behaviour will be completely different to that of their classmates and, whilst some enlightened teachers will be supportive, others will think it’s all bad parenting.
Great rewards carry great risks
The rewards can be great. We are blessed with a gorgeous, funny, caring, loving adopted son who is the centre of our world and who amazes us every day in the way he has bounced back from the trauma of his past.
We had loads of fun having foster children for the weekend, watching their eyes pop when presented with a turret of cakes at “afternoon tea”, and being a small part of a foster system around them which changed the course of their lives forever.
Unfortunately, though, as regular readers of my column will know, the adoption of our other son broke down due to the lack of support we received when faced with extremely challenging behaviour.
We have had lots of good intentions from the Scottish Government, but nothing legally binding. That will only happen when politicians themselves experience the broken system
And, when we resigned as foster carers in the midst of this crisis, we were sent a letter by a fostering charity, informing us that one in seven foster carers are accused of abuse, and recommending that we purchase lifelong legal insurance. That took the shine off that experience, too.
Either foster carers are spectacularly more likely to be abusive, or we need to recognise that severely traumatised children may be more likely to make false accusations.
Nicola, you have had a taste of a police investigation – imagine if the allegations concerned child abuse. Much like being first minister, the rewards carry great risks.
We need politicians who ‘get it’
So, apologies if I sound jaded, because – and I’m sure I speak for all foster parents – I desperately hope you do become a foster carer. We need politicians who “get it”.
For a brief period, this was the case at Westminster, and game-changing legislation in England was the result. We have had lots of good intentions from the Scottish Government, but nothing legally binding. That will only happen when politicians themselves experience the broken system, have real understanding and pursue effective change.
Our system claims to put children first, but it will never achieve the right results for young people in the care system until we focus on the foster carers and adoptive parents who take on the hardest job I’ve ever had in my life. You’ve changed the course of many lives as first minister, Nicola, but fostering could be your greatest achievement.
Eleanor Bradford is a former BBC Scotland health correspondent and now works in communications
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