‘The year I fell in love with my daughter’

Loving your child might seem like the easiest thing in the world. But when Rachel Jones, 41, adopted a little girl, she realised she didn’t love her new daughter. She tells eve about her emotional struggle

Driving along in my car, I could see a mop of dark hair topping the beautiful little face in the car seat behind me. I couldn’t believe this wonderful two-year-old was now my daughter.

My husband and I had adopted Lily* three days earlier and my heart swelled with pride as I looked at her. She was frowning intently so I started to sing London Bridge Is Falling Down – one of the only nursery rhymes I knew. Quietly, Lily began to la-la-la along with me. I felt a pang of pleasure knowing that this frightened little brown-eyed girl was going to be with me for the rest of my life. But I also realised that we were total strangers. And, heartbreakingly, I knew I didn’t love her.

I’d wanted to be a mother for years, but after seven failed attempts at IVF, I found myself sitting in hospital with needles inserted between my toes, because I’d given so much blood my veins had collapsed. It was then I knew I’d had enough. More importantly, my husband, Richard*, knew it too. I’d always wanted to adopt but he’s from an Asian background and it had been important for him to have his own biological child. Now we both realised that our best hope would be to give a child a home. We began the process by requesting a child with a part-Asian background, aged one to four.

Over the next year we went through parenting classes and 30 hours of home study, where social workers delved into our lifestyles. Eventually, we were approved as potential adopters and were approached about adopting a little boy who’d been neglected. I was touched by his story but, try as I might, I didn’t feel anything for him. Next, we were told about a little girl who desperately needed a home but, yet again, I knew she wasn’t right. Richard wanted to take them both, and we had a massive row about it, but I had a deep-rooted instinct that I’d know when the right child came along. We just had to wait.

* Name has been changed.

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