Hip Hip Hooray...Looks who's one today!

On the usual dash home at lunchtime, I come across the all too familiar sight of two Amazon packages on the doorstep. I won't deny it, I perform the usual sigh and eye roll of 'what has he bought for the Landrover now?' ritual. But as I bend down to gather them up, I see LBM's name printed in bold on the label. There it is. His name in print. In lights. Making him more real than I could ever imagine. I feel all giddy and do my best to ignore the dog while I rush inside and nervously open it. Its a couple of beautifully wrapped gifts from Little Miss Sarah Jessica Parker (aka my surrogate-baby friend still on that floor!) wishing LBM a very happy first birthday. Now, I know I said I wanted everyone to just stop crying but right here right now, I am so touched by this. She is such a gem and I love her madly for this. I resist the urge to open them further but instead run my finger over his name. His beautiful name. We didn't buy him a gift. I want us to be his gift. I want him to be the luckiest little boy in the world. But we did send the card. Something bright and cute and proudly  signed  'love mummy and daddy' He is away on holiday this week with his foster family and I wonder what they have planned for him.

I have cakes to make tonight but it's an order for a client and it feels strange that me of all people is not making our little boy a cake. But you know what, he doesn't need cake right now. He needs love. There will be so many more birthdays ahead filled with mountains of cake. While my cupcakes are cooling, I crack open the bubbly and toast him. Cheers LBM! Here's to many more magical birthdays. But looking back at my cake order, I may sneak in a few blue ones for good measure.

What a feeling..being believing.....lalalaaala...!

Holy schmakaroo. To all those adoptees out there just starting on this road to planet adoption or those who are stuck in yet another frustrating delay or setback, please hang in there. You will be a family one day. Your little one may just not be quite ready for you yet. They need a teeny bit more time. This is such an incredibly powerful feeling of happiness and gratitude, I find it hard to explain. LBM's photos are on the fridge and the overwhelming sense of happiness I get when I look at his scrummy little face and cheeky little grin when reaching for a chunk of dairy milk  the milk is so special. I've never had this feeling before and I have to keep reminding myself....this is real honey.

I show his picture to my friends. They are speechless. He is so adorable that they can't stop staring at him.  I bump into Miss Curly Wurly's mom in the local supermarket and we end up having a half hour LBM appreciation moment in the cold meat aisle. There are smiles, tears, giddy little jumps and deep hugs filled with love. I bump into Boobylicious's mom in another supermarket and again there are tears and such happiness. The magic this little boy is creating already, is unbounded.

My search for a celery cake wasn't hugely productive but I did get side tracked to a Courgette and Blueberry Loaf which was diabolically good. I tried it out on my guinea pigs the girls at work. Let's just say, it was hoovered. Until some smarty pants worked out the calories. Don't whatever you do, work out the calories!

LBM turns one next week and it feels odd that we won't be able to share this first birthday with him. I ask Miss Delia if it's ok to send him a card. She replies (yes..yes..eventually!) saying its a good idea. It will go in his life story book and be part of this forever. Eeek, I guess this means we will be signing our first card as 'mummy and daddy'

Calorifc Terrific

Still here...on the floor

Today's the day we meet LBM's foster carer. I find myself running around like a crustless apple pie before work, hoover in one hand, frantically febreezing the dog bed with the other. It dawns on me just how un-child friendly our house is and I start to panic. Will she judge me on this? Is this ignorance? No, it's just us being cautious and not quite believing this is really happening. It's a long day at work but I dash home early to meet them. LRUN is home already having his customary 'just before the SW arrives' poo. Aargh!
I open to the door to the familiar smile of LBM's social worker, Little Miss Scarlett. With her, is a very young girl and I stand there speechless. Surely this can't be LBM's foster carer? She looks about 12! Little Miss Scarlett must have seen my confused, quizzical expression (I'm rubbish at acting!) and she quickly introduces her as a guest student (phew!) And there hidden behind the corner of the Land Rover was LBM's foster carer. A sweet smiley woman not far off the Fairy Godmother.  She is small and round and  I immediately warm to her,  I like small round people. Don't ask me why, I just do. Everyone comes inside and in a jiffy, we break into the tea and cake and the atmosphere is really relaxed. The dogs are desperate to join the party and the Fairy Godmother beckons them in. It's chaos for a minute as Big Dog does her rounds of hugging everyone but they soon settle down. It's obvious they know something is up and they just want to be in on things. Ok, ok...it's the cake they are really after but let's give them the benefit of the bone here.

The Fairy Godmother starts talking about LBM and I just sit there, soaking up all this sweet juicy info. He loves In the Night Garden, he has a special blankie he takes to bed with him, he sleeps 12 hours a night (whaaat?)  he loves his buggie and being outdoors and has a special love of celery. LRUN and I laugh out loud. We both hate celery. In fact LRUN states it's only good in a Bloody Mary. I resist the urge to elbow him and say 'inappropriate honey' but they they all giggle and we carry on just having a whole hour of LBM appreciation time. The Fairy Godmother says she has some recent photos of him for us and she passes me the neat, new shiny Boots photo envelope. LRUN scurries over and leans hard against me to see. My heart literally melts as I take in his cute little cheeky grin and gorgeous little face. I am overwhelmed at how scrummy he is. The other photo I admit is not his best. It shows just how chunky he really is and he is grimacing so much, I reckon he is probably having a poo at that exact moment but you know what....that is him and we love him so much already, it has earned it's place on the fridge door. I show the Fairy Godmother around the house and after a few minutes I get the feeling she actually wants to move in. It's not a big house but so many people tell me our house has such happy vibes to it. Like they always feel they are on holiday when they come to visit. She loves it and is so positive about everything. She stops outside the bathroom door and looks me dead in the eye and says, " I don't think you realise just how lovely he really is. He honestly is the loveliest little one I have ever fostered, you know.  He is simply gorgeous!" It sinks in then just how lucky we are.

I send the photo to my parents who have already cracked open the bubbly and are literally in tears, wishing they could be there with us to share the moment.  My sister is revelling in the magic he is creating already. LRUN calls his family and they talk for ages. The next day the girls at work are all speechless at just how cute he is. Lady Godiva, amongst others are in tears. Will everyone please just stop crying! Now, excuse me, I need to find a recipe for a celery cake.

Continue browsing or proceed to checkout....

Soon after they all leave the house, LRUN takes the dogs out while collecting his beloved LandRover from the garage. I am alone in the house. It's completely silent and I just stand there and simply absorb the intensity of what has just happened. Oh my hat, I am actually going to be a mummy. I feel emotionally exhausted. The phone rings and I jump, rudely awoken from my mummy induced euphoria. My heart sinks as I hear the familiar voice of Miss Delia. There is a slight tremble in her voice and I immediately panic. I think the worst. That she has made a mistake. That this is not going ahead. They are taking him away from me. But alas, she asks me if she has left her briefcase behind. Yes, yes, there it is. Its soft, shiny well worn leather lying casually against the sofa. I hadn't even noticed. I agree to take it to work the next morning where she'll pick it up. LRUN eventually returns after some time. I fear he may have been just standing in the street and freaking out but he smiles and tells me he has been on the phone to his parents sharing the good news. They and we, are over the moon.

Again, I don't sleep. I make a cup of tea and watch the dvd of LBM again. I am overcome by how much I love him already. He rolls over and legs a-kimbo I can almost feel his chunky little thighs. Eek, how on earth am I going to carry him up the stairs? Note to self:  must stop eating sausages and work on my core muscles.

I meet Miss Delia at work the next morning with said briefcase....believe me, it took everything in my power not to open it ;-) and she remarks on how well yesterday's meeting went. I confess that I won't admit to her how many times I have watched his dvd as she may think I was, well, simply weird. She smiles and assures me there is no limit and that this was a good thing.

The girls in the office are euphoric. Lady Godiva can't stop smiling and another colleague remarks on how she has no idea how I am managing to concentrate as she can't stop thinking about him. They keep catching my eye and grinning like cheshire cats. Back home, I phone my parents and my dad answers, 'Hello Grandpa speaking' He is so unbelievably excited and we wallow in the joy for ages. I skype my sister and secretively show her a snippet of the dvd. She bursts into tears but draws her chair right up to the screen to absorb every inch of him through her tears. LRUN and I spend the weekend just talking about LBM. We spend some time in a baby store and for the first time I don't feel like a fake. This is real. So frikkin real. I cannot wait to meet his foster carer next week. I want to soak up everything she says. Ooh, hope she likes cake? I need something subtle and unobtrusive. I think a cute little orange flavoured Yogurt Loaf will do the trick. Maybe I'll glam it up a bit with a sprinkling of toasted sliced almonds a light dusting of icing sugar.....

Somebody pick me up off this floor.....

The last few days have honestly been the hardest few days of my life so far. Anxiety doesn't even come into the picture here. In essence, I think entering the Great British Bake Off would have been an easier option this year. Miss Delia has gone wholly cold turkey on us. From offering to come round after work one night with a DVD and an update on LBM, to nothing. Simply nothing. Not a peep. I email her looking for some sort of re-assurance and get nothing. LRUN emails her too asking some questions about dates and she finally replies with a cryptic, panic inducing email saying she can''t say too much until after our meeting and we are all 'sure.' She tells him she is bringing the medical adviser with her and LBM's social worker tomorrow. I immediately go into defence mode....she is hiding something from us. Why is she being so secretive? So aloof. So cold.  I don't like this. Triple AAA once again is my saviour. She steps in like a little angel from another world and assures me everything will be ok. I try and stay calm and somehow manage an amazing nights sleep. I think sheer emotional exhaustion may play a part here. But I have to endure a whole days work first before our meeting at 4pm. My tummy is flipping and turning so much all day and I try and stay calm, placid and focused on my work. Oh please please please don't let this be bad news. I am so stressed but I feel I have to make cake. There is no love in this cake. This cake is filled with worry, panic and distress. But it turns out beautiful and I take some into work for the girls who are so excited that by 9.30am, they are all licking the sweet buttery frosting off their lips.

By 4pm, my house is filled with LBM appreciation folk. LBM's social worker is just lovely. I instantly click with her (well she says yes to tea and a slice of cake so we're half way there really) She is young and vibrant and when she talks about him, her face lights up.  The medical adviser tells us everything that we know already and suddenly it dawns on me this is really happening. There is no bad news. This is really happening. They stay late, we watch a DVD of him and my heart literally melts. Ok, so he's very chunky and looks more like the Michelin Man than anything (or the Oros man for my South African readers) but oh my hat, he is just perfect. The diaries come out..this is getting serious...and dates are scheduled. They hope to have him home with us by the 21st November. I look over at LRUN and the look of sheer panic on his face is hilarious. We finally wave goodbye to Miss Delia and resisting the urge to scream, we both stand there hugging with the dogs looking up at us, somewhat puzzled. Somebody...please pick me up off this floor!

Anxiety...a definition:

I remember talking to a fertility friend recently whose surrogate had suffered yet another miscarriage. She seemed fine and I remarked on how she was coping so well.  She said something very powerful to me. "I am so used to the endless disappointment in this quest to become a family that these feelings and situations are just all too familiar now and something I know how to cope with. When this finally does work out for us, that is when I am going to need all the help I can get, because those feelings, I have no idea how to deal with!"  And this, my readers, is exactly how I am feeling right now. I can't seem to accept that this may actually be working out for us. Am I being over-cautious?  Is this emotional protection? It's been nearly six years and I just don't think I can cope with any more disappointment.

My sister has always said that anxiety ran in the the family and I thought -- what a load of old yeast! I am the most chilled out person I know. In fact, people have been known to check I was still breathing. But now, I feel I am going to have re-phrase. I am usually the most chilled out person I know. Now suddenly, on planet adoption, things are different. I can't sleep. I check my email and phone constantly. Not even the knitting or baking is helping, although I did rustle up a luscious chunky Victoria sponge yesterday with a silky raspberry jam filling and lashings of white chocolate buttercream and a light dusting of.....anyway..I digress...back to being anxious:   I am already worrying why Miss Delia has not given us any feedback after her meeting on Thursday with LBM. Surely just a one liner saying how she felt assured he was the right match. Maybe even a hint of how cute he was?   Nope, all we got was a formal, no frills email setting up an appointment for a weeks time with his social worker. I find myself reading into this, worrying. Is this a bad sign? Is this a good sign. Why no personals? I am left with a whole week to analyse this. I google the definition of anxiety and now I feel even more anxious. Aah that love/hate relationship with google. Why do we do it to ourselves? I'm now anxious about being anxious. This is absurd. I just want to click 'proceed to checkout' on my Amazon wish list. I want to remove the word 'potentially' from every adoption conversation we have. I just want this to happen.

Incidentally, my friend's surrogate is beautifully pregnant and a special little baby is on the way. And yes, we did have to pick her up off the floor!

Introducing...white chocolate buttercream

The Little Big Man......

What a whirlwind of a weekend, most of it spent up to my eyeballs in icing. I try and concentrate on my vintage sugar flowers but I keep seeing his plump little face before me. But I'm worried that I didn't  feel that instant connection. What am I meant to feel? Am I meant to encounter this instant bond from a badly photocopied old photo. I finally managed to get some time to myself on Saturday evening to snuggle up on the sofa with a cuppa ...ok ok, a glass of wine....and the CPR. Just me and the little big man. I read it intensely, page by page absorbing every second of his life so far. I call my sister on the other side of the world. When I say his name out loud to her, my heart does a weird little flip thing.  (A bit like back in the day when LRUN first turned up at the back of my boat) And then I know. This is the one.
LRUN and I talk about him all weekend. We end up in fits of giggles. His birth father has an unusual name and we try and get google pronunciation to help us say it correctly. I'd say we're nearly there. 70% and counting. Less laughing, more vowels and we'll be there. Monday is quiet and I try and keep busy and bake a batch of Toffee and Oatmeal cookies. They're not great but LRUN has hoovered two before they even reach the cookie jar. I can't sleep. All I can think about is the LBM and his chubby little face. I can't be feeding him cookies for a while.
I draught an email to Miss Delia and send it first thing Tuesday morning. By noon, there's still no word from her, so I do the unthinkable and send her a text. Ok, I send her 2 texts. This is serious! She finally replies. She is due to see the LBM and his foster carer on Thursday and she explains she will report back afterwards with an update. I sense her words are cautious. I know how unpredictable these things can be so I have to remain realistic. But this feels so right. Surely this has to work out. 

The real Toffee and Oatmeal Cookies

Small seeds grow into big things......

I seem to be so unfazed by Miss Delias impending visit today. In fact, I have the Rooibos tea for breakfast, so I can save the last remaining tea bags for her. Even the biscuit jar is looking particularly dire. I may be able to scrape together a couple of chocolate shortbreads to offer her. Gee whiz, this is not like me. How things have changed since those first meetings, planning my cookie choices for weeks. But I feel disheartened and I think I'm just protecting myself from yet more disappointment. She's late today too as her furry friend needs to get to the vet, so we wait for her. Not anxiously like we used to but LRUN is out in his man-den shed building something random and I browse pinterest for new cake recipes, thinking about this Rhubarb and Custard Cake, glancing occasionally at the barren biscuit jar thinking I really should have made the effort.

She finally arrives and in the rush to get her out of the rain and into the dry, I clock a few extra pages peeping out of  her notebook. I quickly remind myself she is here to talk about going on the national adoption register and that these pages are probably the application forms. After a few minutes of idle chit chat about the cat, her face breaks into the most radiant smile, she reaches for a stale shortbread and says she is pleased to tell us she has somebody special to talk to us about today. I nearly choke on my Rooibos tea but I try and remain calm and listen intently. It's a blue one. A big blue one. A sweet endearing big fat blue one. Its a long intense session and we both listen closely and try to take it all in. I forget all about the biscuit situation. There are a few medical issues that need to be explored together with some identity matters but we both feel we would like to hear more. She shows a picture of him together with his birth mother and I will admit, I am shocked by this. I wasn't expecting so much information first time round and I find myself staring at her more than the big man. She looks so happy. So young.

I have to rush off to work and Miss Delia says we have until Tuesday to decide if we would like to pursue this match. There is a lot to think about and I find work really hard to concentrate on. Triple A is my saviour and sends me encouraging texts throughout the day. As each hour passes, I keep seeing his chubby little face. I send LRUN a text saying I think the big man is growing on me and I desperately want to know how he feels.  LRUN replies saying 'he's thinking'. This is one of the busiest bank holidays we've had coming up filled with forest theatre, bbq's plus I have a huge vintage cake order to make and deliver.  I just need to find the time to sit down with a cuppa (after I've done the groceries and bought more tea that is!) and just soak all this info on the Big Man up.