Their brother, plain and simple
William was nearly four years old when Robert and his wife adopted him. Their three birth children were then aged 14, 12 and 11. They all say now that they look upon William as
their brother, that there is no difference between the way they feel about him and the way they feel about their other two siblings. But this took years to develop as Robert describes…
We were lucky with our first three children. They were born close together and got on well in their early years. Evie and I thought long and hard before going ahead with adoption. We felt we had something to offer and we hoped it would enrich the lives of the whole family. It certainly has, but it’s been a bumpy road at times for the others.
William practising his Jedi moves
Our first consideration was the possible impact of adoption on our other children. We talked to them about the sort of children who needed families. They were very enthusiastic, but we tried to keep it real: ‘How would you feel if he or she took your things, or broke them?’, ‘How would you react if he or she had temper tantrums?’, ‘What if he or she got into trouble at school or with the police?’
We also wanted to stay upbeat and confident, so we discussed how we might all manage different problems if they arose. We would not have gone ahead with adoption if the children had been against the idea, but they seemed supportive. Interestingly though, years later, Ed, our oldest, said he didn’t feel he’d had a real say in the process – but also said he didn’t have a say as to whether he should have birth siblings. He just trusted us to make the right decision.
We thought carefully about the type of child that would best fit in with our family. We decided there needed to be a large age gap between a new family member and the others to cut down on possible competition. We felt that a child with a disability might fit in best, reasoning to ourselves that he or she would be less of a threat to the children. We did not feel comfortable about a child with overtly sexualised behaviour, again because of the possible impact on the others, though of course you never quite know what to expect when you adopt a child. In the end we adopted William, who has cerebral palsy.
At first, William was hard work to care for, emotionally and physically. He’d had a succession of carers and, to begin with, didn’t want to be in our family! In a way, his disability made it easier for us to bond with him, because he was so physically dependent. It also meant the other children quickly developed a sense of compassion for him, and eventually this grew into love. At first they were distressed by his distress – in the early days he was inconsolable at being separated from his foster mother, and nothing seemed to comfort him. He wasn’t grateful to have us as a family and it took time for him to feel he belonged.
We tried to get the children to imagine how they would feel if they were moved to a new, strange family away from everything and everyone they knew. We’ve always talked with them about what William has gone through, and tried to help them to make sense of what can seem like irrational behaviour.
Because of his disability, William has taken up a lot of our time. We adopted him at the point when the older ones were beginning to ‘grow up’ and do their own thing, but we do wonder, particularly in respect of our third child Robbie, whether adopting William had an adverse effect, namely on his educational attainment. Our two older children did well at school, but Robbie less so. He tells us academic work just isn’t his thing, but would it have been different if we hadn’t adopted William and had given Robbie more of our time?
We have tried to give the three older ones ‘special time’, both individually and collectively – the odd meal out and the occasional one-to- one camping trip. These stand out as happy memories for all of us, though we also have happy memories of holidays with the whole family.
We had to strike a balance between involving the others in William’s care and not expecting too much of them. It’s really hard getting this aspect right and our oldest son has said he thinks we expected more of him than we did of the others. Maybe that’s a hazard of being the oldest in any circumstances?
What about their relationships now? Sometimes William and Robbie are great allies and conspire together, disappearing to cook and eat pot noodles in secret. At other times William is irrationally cruel and provocative, calling Robbie “big ears” and “curly hair” (his ears are unremarkable and his hair is too short to curl!). Silly and innocuous you might think, but William is skilled at this. “Don’t touch Robbie’s arm, William,” we’ll say at tea time, but William has to extend his arm and pull at Robbie’s sleeve, until Robbie moves out of reach. Then, of course, William has a tantrum: “Robbie, come back… Robbie!”
Robbie says: “I think of him as my brother. He is my brother. In fact, in some ways, I feel closer to William than to the others now. I suppose it’s because they’ve moved on. It’s funny though, because at the same time I don’t think I know him so well – my relationship with him is less natural than with the others.”
“The thing I find most difficult is that he’s ill such a lot. It’s just not fair on him. And it’s a real shame he can’t walk and play football and stuff. It’s amazing how happy he is with all that. I feel really proud of him for the way he just gets on with life. I don’t know how I’d be if it was me.’
“William’s my brother,” says Kate, “Just the same as the other two. He sometimes drives me mad, but so do the others.” William has gone through phases of persecuting Kate. “You’re so ugly, Kate. And you’re smelly. I don’t want to sit next to Kate.” Occasionally it reduced her to tears and she’d snap back about how nasty he could be, but it would be like water off a duck’s back. Now though, William loves her, and when she’s home she does her bit in terms of role-playing scenes from his current favourite film with him, and she’s proudly introduced him to all her friends at college.
Ed left home for university when William was seven. William adores him, but was very jealous of Ed’s girlfriend. Ed is William’s Jedi Master, just like in Star Wars, and they have ‘training sessions’ when Ed comes home, picking up each time from where they left off. Ed is travelling round the world at the moment – he rarely makes contact with his anxious parents, but he emails William regularly, and the other day he phoned from the other side of the globe to wish him a happy birthday. “I love you Ed,” said William down the phone. “I love you too,” replied Ed.
Our birth children have been heroes during our adoption journey. Maybe the age difference and William’s physical dependency helped, but whatever the reasons, our birth children all look upon William as their brother, plain and simple – and the loving bond that flows between them is clear to see.
Robert Marsden
Robert’s wife and children’s names have been changed to protect their privacy.
Robert's book about William's adoption, The Family Business, is available from BAAF Publications
Originally published in the Be My Parent newspaper in May 2008.
This article is published with the kind permission of the people involved. You may download it for your own reference but if you wish to use it for any other purpose, please contact Be My Parent for authorisation: Be My Parent, BAAF, Saffron House, 6-10 Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS. Telephone: 020 7421 2666/5/4.
Last updated: 29 August 08
