Mummy's Little Helper by Casey Watson

Author:Casey Watson [Watson, Casey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Attachment theory is one of those subjects that can be really, really interesting, or really, really dull, depending on whom it is who’s explaining it. Halfway into our introductory lecture, which was taking place in one of those out-of-the-way centres that local councils maintain just for the purpose, the fact that I was nodding off didn’t augur well for the remaining few hours.

Not that I wasn’t interested. Attachment theory – first described by the psychologist John Bowlby – was perhaps the single most common thread that ran through everything we did as foster carers. So many ills of the world could perhaps be attributed to little children not having been able to form a strong attachment to their mums (or, to use the parlance, ‘primary caregivers’).

Almost every child we cared for had had some sort of issue in this regard, so it was a useful – perhaps necessary – part of our continuing training that we understood how these essential human attachments worked.

This had obviously not been the case for Abby, however, and it was to her that my mind kept straying. Though with the distraction of the ‘cupcakeathon’ she’d been reasonably okay this week, it was still pretty tough, because yet again it had been decided that with Sarah’s current treatment being so intense it would be best if they continued on just phone calls during the week nights, and a visit on the Sunday, as before. I had my own thoughts about that – were they stretching the gap between visits in order to start preparing her for what was to come? No one had said anything to me, but it felt that way. I was also still smarting at being ticked off by Bridget for overstepping the boundaries of ‘my position’ in wanting to try and do my best for Abby. And though I knew Mike was right in what he’d said about that, I still couldn’t help but feel huffy about it, which was making my mind stray a little.

I also couldn’t help thinking about what was going to become of her. All the previous kids we’d fostered had been in such a bad place when they’d come to us that whatever happened to them – and good outcomes were by no means guaranteed for them – we were at least working on the premise that, however things turned out for them, it was unlikely to be worse than where they’d come from. They’d come from hellish lives – lives of neglect, abuse and heartbreak – and we were a step on the road to them reclaiming their childhoods, nurtured and supported, if not by their own parents, then by people who really cared about what happened to them, in most cases, for the first time in their lives.

This was not true – and wouldn’t be true – of Abby. Yes, if they found a caring foster home, she perhaps would reclaim her childhood, and, all being well, her mother’s illness would be controlled sufficiently that she would have many years yet in which to be a positive influence in her daughter’s life.

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