About Me

This blog is about me and my voyage to becoming a mummy. Ironically called “mummy in the baking” as together with my passion and obsession for all things cake related, I will never be able to have my own "bun in the oven." Years of fertility treatment have taken their toll and I now find myself on a new..eek, i hate this word...journey! The crazy train to adoption. I hope you will join me while I bake my way to becoming a mummy. I want this blog to be a source of information as well as a comforter. I hope it will inspire and help anyone who is considering adoption or who has in fact already bought their ticket for this..here I go again...journey. Cake makes me happy and I hope you will enjoy sharing my love of it. I want it to help lift your spirits and hearts through what can only be described as 'the trials and tribulations of the adoption process.' Along with my desire to be a family, I love my dogs, have an unhealthy love of sausages and chenin blanc, adore my land rover uber-nerd of a husband and continiously dream of balmy summer evenings. Baking in progress…..

Tuesday, 22 April 2014


I made my way over to the adoption court office last week to hand in our formal request to legally adopt LBM. Strangely enough, up until the final court hearing in two months time, we currently 'share' parental responsibility between ourselves, the birth parents (!) and social services. Handing over the court admin fee of £170 (Gulp!) I turn to LBM and say, "Soooo....not just for Christmas, are you?"  He squeals with delight which brings a smile to everyone in the court office. But hey, a friend paid £350 for her Beagle puppy so I reckon we got ourselves a cracking bargain here. 

I will say, it certainly feels like we share parental responsibility with social services and I am looking forward to closing the door to them for that final time. But as much as I whinge about the endless meetings with these paper pushing folk (seriously, we have three lever arch files full of paperwork and a huge pile waiting to be filed), some points they make are annoyingly relevant. When they were doing our house safety survey, they asked if we had any loose rugs. I remember rolling my eyes to the moon. But now, when LBM toddles into the lounge and trips over the corner of that rug that curls up ever so slightly, I can't help thinking they were right.

When they kept going on and on about how I would miss my family, once again I rolled my eyes to the moon. But it's at festive times like this Easter when every friend I have is celebrating up a treat with sumptuous family roasts and  Easter egg hunts. It really hits home and once again, they were spot on.

It may also have something to do with the current series on TV on adoption. It's virtually a blow by blow account of what we went through and brings back all manner of emotions. But it also gives me an insight into what emotions the social workers have to deal with on a daily basis. We only deal with them for around 2 years throughout our process. For them, it's an everyday affair. I have a new found admiration for them. Respect.

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

 The Bieber Convention......

It's 2am and I am wide awake. Tomorrow we meet Tummy Mummy. But it's not just this that's keeping me up. I have to leave LBM with Mrs Scooby Doo for the meeting. I have never left him with anyone other than LRUN and I am worried about him. You have to be so sensitive in situations like these to ensure he doesn't panic that he is being moved on again.  I convince myself I am sure he will be fine. We drop him off early with a quick kiss and a 'mummy will be back soon' and I dash for the door before he cries. Ok, ok...before I cry.

LRUN and I arrive at the children's centre ridiculously early and we take bets as to whether TM will turn up. But we know it's pointless as we both somehow feel she will. We sign in and wait for Miss Delia. She's on time for once (hurrah!) and as she signs in, I notice she scribbles out our surnames on the register. 'For security' she says. Great. And TM lives where?  It's a zillion degrees in the meeting room. I ditch the hat. Screw the disguise, I just wanna be me. Dead on time the door opens and TM walks in. I can feel myself breathing deeply and thinking I can't quite believe this is actually happening. She whispers hello, shakes our hands and sits down. It's awkward. Miss Delia breaks the silence and asks how she is. She admits she's extremely nervous and I assure her not to worry, as we all are. They ask her if she has any questions and she says, "I just want to know how he is really."  I can't stop staring at her. I can see now where he gets his thighs from. She is so young and so pretty. So composed.  Seemingly so in control. But I know the lifestyle choices she makes are not conducive to raising a child. I feel sorry for her. We talk a lot about LBM. She wants to know all about him. There are a couple of awkward moments, especially when she asks why we are not having Jelly-tot placed with us. I look to Miss Delia with a 'this is your bag, my friend look on my face' and she answers for me. TM calmly accepts their reasons but I re-assure here that we did try our hardest and that we would explain this to him later in life. She continues with some very interesting and smart questions. She asks what form of discipline we expect to use on him? When would we tell him he was adopted? She also asks that we take him to toddler groups etc as she wants him to be social. I decide now is not a good time to mention the anxiety.

We had made a hand print for her (read: incredibly messy....paint when everywhere....you're only getting one hand!) She laughs at how chubby his hands still are. She asks to see a photo and I show her a couple on my phone. I worry she is going to cry but amazingly she doesn't. Her face lights up and she looks...I don't know, proud I guess. She says it looks like he is sporting a real Justin Bieber haircut and I can hear LRUN take a sharp intake of breath and I know he's thinking, "We must sort that out!" She asks if she can take a photo of that photo. The room goes silent. My gut instinct is no no no but at the same time I put myself in her shoes and think, gosh, I would love a photo. Again I look to Miss Delia. Surprisingly, she agrees to it, as to be honest, it doesn't really look much like him. He is wearing my hat and LRUN's sunnies so it doesn't really show the real him. We have a photo taken of all three of us to go in LBM's life story book and say our goodbyes. I can't believe how well that went. How calm and together she was. That was truly up there with the weirdest thing I have ever done.

Turns out, LBM has had the time of his life at Mrs Scooby Doo. She's done a fantastic job with him and we are so grateful. Later that night LRUN asks if he can ask a boy question. "Were TM's eyebrows real or painted on?" "Oh definitely painted" I say. "Phew" he says. " Because if that's what LBM's eyebrows were gonna turn out like, I would have been seriously worried.