Lorett – Humans of Avon and Somerset

“Adoption doesn’t just give a child a home. It changes who you are – it opens a part of your heart you didn’t even know existed.” 

For anyone who knows me, I’m usually the bubbly one. The chatty Scouser who’s always smiling, laughing, trying to lift the mood. I wear my heart on my sleeve, what you see is what you get. But like so many of us, there have been times when what was going on inside didn’t match what people saw on the outside. 

Life has thrown its challenges at me – twice in my career, I reached a point where the stress of policing became too much, and I had to take time off to reset. Those moments taught me the importance of recognising when you’re struggling and of leaning on support when you need it. 

Outside work, life is full – busy, chaotic, but full of love. My wife Dee and I have been together for 25 years, married for 17, and we’ve always dreamed of building a family. We were blessed with our first son, Gabriel, through IVF, and he brought joy and light into our lives. But as we looked to grow our family, we explored adoption and that’s when our lives changed in ways we never could have imagined. 

We looked down the adoption road, and honestly, while people often hear about how difficult the process can be, it wasn’t quite what we expected. Our journey began about ten years ago. We applied with the adoption service, and soon a social worker came to meet us. We started having meetings, learning step by step what the process would involve. 

I remember there was a BBC drama about two gay men adopting. The first episode was heartbreaking, but oddly enough, it mirrored our process perfectly. I was the bubbly, outgoing one, and my partner was more reserved. She took everything in, thought things through, while I tend to dive in headfirst. 

The training sessions and meetings with our social worker were intense. You go in with preconceived ideas; what kind of child you want, what age, what gender. We thought we wanted a baby girl. But adoption isn’t like picking from a catalogue. We had to think about all sorts of factors: drugs, alcohol, foetal conditions, disabilities. You have to decide what you could handle, what kind of life you could support. And slowly, we widened our expectations, we realised the most important thing was being able to offer love and a safe home, whatever challenges might come. 

After six months of training, interviews, family references, and panels, we were approved to adopt. And then came the waiting. When things were quiet locally, we opened our search beyond South Gloucestershire, hoping to find the right match for our family.  

Eventually, we started using the online portal. You could filter by age, gender, area, and any additional needs, and we found ourselves checking it every day. Every new listing made our hearts race, wondering if this could be the child we were meant to meet. 

Then, one Thursday in February, I logged on and saw his face. A little boy. He looked a bit like our son Gabe. He was only ten months old. 

I didn’t say anything at first. Then my partner saw him and said, “Oh my God. Have you seen the baby?” And I was like… “Yes”. 

We asked ourselves if we should show our interest. That’s how it works, you see a child you feel drawn to, and then you let your social worker know. So, I asked, “Are we going to do this?” And she said, “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s do it.” 

On Friday, we contacted our social worker, telling her we had seen a baby we were interested in. She contacted the council and listed our interest. Normally, you’d expect to wait but this time, things moved fast. 

Monday morning, our social worker called. “You’ll never guess what—this baby…” she said. It was going to be a quick time adoption because the foster carers were going on a three-week trip abroad. They didn’t want to put him into another foster home because he had already been through so much. And suddenly, we were in. We were going to adopt a baby. 

Reality hit. Work, planning, preparing – it was overwhelming. We thought we’d get six months, but we had just two weeks. By Monday evening, twenty families had shown interest. By Tuesday, it was down to three, with interviews on Thursday. Friday, a decision would be made. 

Friday came, and I was at Concorde House, working as an Inspector in CID (Criminal Investigation Department). Everyone knew what was happening. Then the call came, I went into a side room. 

“Hi, just want to let you know we loved your interview. We think you’re a perfect family.” 

I couldn’t believe it. I put the phone down and just sat there, stunned. Then I went back out to everyone cheering, and I said, “It’s a boy!” Everyone clapped and shouted, it was surreal. 

And just like that, we had two weeks to prepare. Two weeks to bring home a baby we hadn’t even expected to meet so soon. Two weeks that changed everything. 

When our son Senan came to us, our lives changed completely. He had experienced early trauma and was later diagnosed with a genetic condition and learning difficulties.  

The early days were tough. We followed everything we’d learned about therapeutic parenting, wanting to give him everything he needed emotionally. What no one really tells you, though, is that boundaries are just as important. Children who’ve been through trauma need those boundaries to feel safe. Without them, things can spiral and for a while, they did. 

We’ve had to deal with aggression, exhaustion, sleepless nights, and moments that left both of us emotionally and physically drained. But with help from adoption services, behavioural specialists, and his school, we started to understand what he needed and how to support him better. 

Senan’s school has been incredible. They’ve worked closely with us and brought in educational psychologists to observe, guide, and help us adapt. Slowly but surely, we’ve built better routines and stronger foundations. 

Our eldest, Gabe, has had his own challenges too. When Senan’s behaviour was at its most difficult, it was hard for him to cope. He went from being an only child to having a brother who demanded every ounce of our attention. It caused tension, and there were times when we had to find new ways for everyone to have their own space even converting our garage so Gabe could have a quiet place to focus and rest. He’s since been diagnosed with ADHD and understanding that has helped us support him too. 

Despite the challenges, Senan is a joy. He’s funny, sociable, and full of life. He loves his school, his teachers, and sports. He’s thriving in ways we once worried might never happen. Watching him achieve things other people might take for granted — getting dressed by himself, taking the bus to school, finding his confidence — fills me with pride. 

You learn that happiness looks different for every child. What might be exciting for one can be terrifying for another. For Senan, his “happy place” might just be sitting with his toys or watching his favourite show and that’s okay. It’s taught me to let go of expectations and focus on what truly matters: love, patience, and safety. 

When people ask about adoption, I tell them this: it’s the best thing we’ve ever done. Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it changes everything. But that child will give you far more than you could ever give them. Senan isn’t “our adopted son”, he’s, our son. We don’t think of adoption day or birth parents; we think of our family. 

I sometimes have dreams where I imagine what life would have been like if Senan had gone to another family, and the thought is unbearable. We can’t picture life without him now. Has it been what we expected? Not at all. Has it been worth it? Absolutely. 

It’s changed me as a person, as a parent, and as a partner. I’ve learned patience in a whole new way. I’ve learned to manage my emotions, to be kind to myself, and to understand that both Dee and I experience the challenges differently. I deal with the exhaustion of being the one he’s most attached to, while she faces the pain of rejection when he lashes out. Supporting each other and knowing when to step in for the other is what keeps us strong. 

Adoption doesn’t just give a child a home. It changes who you are — it opens a part of your heart you didn’t even know existed. 

Every day, I look at our boys and I’m proud of how far we’ve come, proud of how much love we have, and proud that even on the hardest days, we’re still standing together as a family. 

Looking back now, I realise how quickly life can change. One moment you’re waiting, unsure if this is your path; the next, you’re holding a child and wondering how you ever lived without them. Adoption isn’t just a process, it’s hope, love, and a leap into the unknown. And for us, it was the most incredible leap we could have ever taken.