My name is Jenny Molloy, and I was taken into care aged 9.

Jenny, 3 months before going into care.

When I say that social workers rescued me as a child, from a life of degradation and destitution, I’m often looked at like I must be living in a paranormal world. Social workers ruin lives right? Social workers steel children right? Well, mostly that's wrong

Going into care was, to me, like entering a different world. Suddenly, I didn't have to worry about violence in the house, my parents hurting themselves whilst drunk, horrible men coming and going or being hungry and dirty. I had childrens home staff that cared for me in a way which I had not experienced before.

I remember the feeling of sleeping under my first duvet, and being able to choose my first brand new set of bedding. Strawberry shortcake was my favoured choice. Promises had not been kept at home so I dare not believe that I would actually get it. My happiness at receiving it was shown by me clinging to this duvet around the house for days. It was like sleeping underneath cotton wool.

Of course, life in care was not always easy. My parents struggled with the loss of us, often turning up at the childrens home drunk and aggressive. It's a huge emotional struggle dealing with the knowledge that you know your parents are hurting because someone else is caring you for, at the same time being happy that this was the case. Your loyalty is tested. Your heart feels at times like it’s going to burst.

Leaving care aged 18, pregnant with my first child, Lauren, was confusing, sad and scary. I had no idea what to do with this baby, at the same time knowing that I had to put up a pretense of coping for fear that my baby would be taken from me. It’s hard that one isn’t it. You are taken into care through no fault of your own, but then seen as a risk to your own child simply through having been in care.

Doesn't make sense does it, morally or logically. I loved my baby so much it hurt. I believed that I was a terrible mum. Just cause. When my second child came along, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I could make it as a mum. But what does this mean? To me, a successful mum kept their babies safe, protected them from pain, kept them warm and nurtured their physical and mental

wellbeing to within an inch of their lives – I can now look back and accept that I did just that.

Today, I am a successful author and consultant, working with social workers and children in care. But most importantly to me, I am a mother to 2 and a nanny to 1. My little Lily. I can finally say, that for our little family, the generational cycle of losing your children to the care system is over.