Please Don't Take My Baby Read Free

receiver I felt a frisson of excitement: a new child and a new challenge. Although Jade wasn’t exactly a child, and she would only be staying with me for a short while, I would do all I could to help her. I felt sure she would benefit from some stability in her life and my TLC (tender loving care), which I prided myself on offering to all the children I looked after, and wouldn’t go amiss even with a teenager. A wiser, more experienced teen carer might have asked some appropriate questions – for example, about Jade’s boyfriend, the father of her unborn baby, and what involvement, if any, he would be having in Jade’s life. But for me at that moment, elated by the prospect of doing all I could to help Jade, such questions never crossed my mind.
    Leaving the hall, I jogged up the stairs and to the spare bedroom to make some last-minute changes so that it was suitable for when Jade arrived and she felt comfortable. I didn’t think she’d mind the soft toys dotted around the room, but I removed the toy box. Then I changed the duvet cover and pillowcase, replacing the pictures of Batman with plain pale yellow. Satisfied the room was clean and welcoming, I returned downstairs. As a foster carer and an individual I try not to be judgemental, and if I thought Jade was far too young to be having a baby and that she should have been more careful I didn’t dwell on it. Who knew what past experience had brought Jade to this point in her life and self-righteous recrimination is never helpful. My role was to look after Jade and her unborn baby, which I intended to do to the best of my ability, and if she left me feeling less alone and better able to face the world then I would be delighted.
    Jill telephoned again two hours later, by which time I had vacuumed the carpets, dusted the shelves, tidied the house and begun the preparation of the spaghetti bolognese for dinner. Although it was only lunchtime, I knew from experience that when a new child arrives time evaporates; I’d been caught out before by suddenly finding it was seven o’clock and no dinner was ready. Now, having been fostering for eleven years, I was better prepared. However, the only news Jill had was that she didn’t know when Jade would be arriving, as Rachel hadn’t been able to contact her. Apparently Jade wasn’t in school and Meryl didn’t know where she was.
    ‘I’ll phone as soon as I know more,’ Jill said.
    Such uncertainty isn’t unusual in fostering, so I wasn’t fazed. Plans change and I knew enough about teenagers to know that their timekeeping was fluid and their appointment keeping variable.
    As the afternoon was cold but bright I put the washing on the line to dry, and then with some time to spare I began a new fostering folder in preparation for Jade’s arrival. In this would go the forms the social worker would bring with her, as well as the daily record all foster carers have to keep of the child they are looking after. This includes medical, education and social-care appointments, any significant events, details of contact and the child’s general disposition. This record keeping allows the child’s progress to be monitored so that additional help can be accessed if necessary. The notes are confidential and when the child leaves the foster carer they are placed on the child’s file at the social services. Even though Jade would be with me for only a short while I had to start a file, although I couldn’t include much at present other than her name, age and today’s date. More information would follow with the social worker when she placed Jade.
    Having heard no more from Jill that afternoon, I left the house at 3.00 to collect Paula from school. Adrian, as normal, would make his own way home from secondary school; usually he walked with his friends. I knew I needed to prepare both children for Jade’s arrival. Although they were used to children suddenly appearing and starting to live with us, a heavily pregnant teenager was