How the Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund (ASGSF) Saved Our SGO Placement

Girl facing back looking into a river.

I want to write this because there was a moment where everything we had worked so hard for almost fell apart, and the reason it did not is because of the ASGSF programme. Without it, I am certain our SGO placement would not have survived. This is not an exaggeration. This is our lived reality.

When she first came to us, life was chaos. Her behaviours were extreme, negative, and at times frightening. There was aggression that came from nowhere, distress that could not be soothed, and emotional storms that felt relentless. We were exhausted and scared. We questioned ourselves daily. Were we doing something wrong. Were we failing her. Were we enough. We loved her fiercely, but love alone was not enough to heal what she carried inside her.

At that point, there was a dangerous assumption placed upon us. We were told she was a baby when everything happened, so she would not be affected. Once she was with a secure and loving family, she would thrive. Those were the words of a social worker, delivered with confidence. I now know that statement was deeply wrong. Whether it came from manipulation, false information, or sheer ignorance, it caused harm. Trauma does not check a birth certificate. Trauma does not wait until a child can remember. Trauma lives in the body, in the nervous system, and yes, it can begin before a child is even born.

Our lifeline came in the form of the ASGSF programme (Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund). It quite literally saved us. Through ASGSF, she received occupational therapy sessions both inside of school and outside of school. For the first time, someone was looking at the whole child rather than just the behaviours. The therapy gave her the tools she never had, and it gave us the understanding we were never offered before.

Through the programme, she also received the diagnosis she so desperately needed. That alone changed everything. Suddenly, we were not dealing with a naughty child or a difficult child. We were parenting a traumatised child with specific needs. The diagnoses unlocked access to the right support, the right strategies, and the right compassion. We finally had language for what we were seeing every day. We finally felt believed.

The impact on our family was enormous. The aggression reduced. The meltdowns became less intense. School became a safer place for her. Home became calmer. We began to breathe again. It was, without a doubt, the best thing to happen to her and to us as a family. ASGSF (Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund) did not just support her; it held us all together at a time when we were very close to breaking.

That is why the news that the ASGSF programme was cut completely felt like heartbreak. It felt like someone pulling the rug out from under the most vulnerable children and families. We were not alone in that fear. There was outcry. There was campaigning. Voices were raised because we knew what was at stake. Eventually, the programme was reinstated, but with far less funding available to each child.

This is where the pain deepens. Many of the children who rely on ASGSF (Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund) have experienced removal from their birth families. They have lived in foster care. They have been moved again into their SGO or kinship families. That is multiple losses before they even reach stability. Each move compounds trauma. Each goodbye leaves a mark. Yet the funding that supports their healing has been reduced, as if their needs somehow shrink over time.

I know that other SGO children arrive through different routes. I know not every story mirrors ours. But trauma does not follow a single pathway. In our experience, the trauma was layered and complex. It began early. It continued through separation, uncertainty, and change. By the time she reached us, her body and brain were in survival mode. Expecting her to simply settle because she was now loved ignored everything science tells us about trauma.

These children are born into circumstances they did not choose. Some experience stress and trauma in the womb itself. Elevated cortisol levels, maternal distress, instability, and fear can all shape a developing brain before birth. None of this is the child’s fault. Yet when they finally reach their SGO or kinship family, there is often an unspoken expectation that they should be fine now. That love should fix it. That time should erase it.

ASGSF (Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund) recognises the truth. It acknowledges that trauma needs treatment, not denial. It provides specialist support that understands attachment, sensory processing, emotional regulation, and developmental trauma. Removing or reducing that support does not save money in the long run. It shifts the cost onto families, schools, and ultimately the children themselves.

Our SGO placement survived because someone listened, because funding existed, and because intervention came in time. Many families are not so lucky. If ASGSF (Adoption and Special Guardianship Support Fund) disappears or continues in a diminished form, more placements will be at risk. More children will suffer silently. More families will feel abandoned.

This programme did not just help us cope. It gave our child a chance to heal. That is why I will continue to speak out. Because children who have already lost so much should not have their lifeline taken away too.

About me

I am a married mother of four children. One of those children is our granddaughter, for whom we are legal guardians and kinship carers. I run a small business and I love to write, which is how this blog came to be. I write about family life, kinship care, and my experiences living with chronic illness and disability, including ME CFS, spinal stenosis, chronic pain, and fibromyalgia. I am also very aware that I am doing all of this in my mid-forties, which still surprises me some days.

Previous
Previous

Embracing Parenthood: Growing Up, Growing Together

Next
Next

When Cleaning Hurts: Living With ME/CFS, Fibromyalgia, and the Need for Pacing