Little Ol' Me!
Hello, and thanks for stopping by!
I'm Erin, Head Baker (read: only baker), decorator, cleaner and chief washer-upper of the one woman show that is Mrs Browns Buns.
I've had my business for around 4 years now, but have only really taken off in the last 18-24 months. This first blog post is just a little more about me, my family, and why I was inspired to start baking and creating beautiful cakes for you all.
In August 2013, I was the happiest girl alive; I had just married my best friend at the ripe old age of 22! A few months later, we found out we were expecting out first baby - it was like our own little fairy tale, we were over the moon.
Baby Brown no.1 was due just 364 days after we were married, on the 2nd August 2014. The pregnancy itself was perfect and 'textbook' as it were. Like most first time mums, my due date came and went and still no signs of baby coming. After a final sweep, contractions started and we were finally on our way! The baby was coming!!!
Sadly, we didn't get the 'textbook' labour that was to be expected. On Monday 11th August 2014, we arrived at the hospital having had reduced movements, and a few short hours later, we were told that there was no heartbeat and our precious baby had died. We didn't know this until later but baby had died in the middle of the night, and we were none the wiser.
A full on 12 hours of labour ensued, and ended with our beautiful, silent, baby girl being born at 7.00am on Tuesday 12th August 2014.
We called her Freya, and she is most of the reason I am where I am today. This year (2019), she would be turning 5 years old, and starting Primary 1 in August. Not a day goes by that we don't think about her, and my husband and I will be forever grateful for the short time we got to spend with her before leaving her behind in the hospital.
But Erin, why is this story relevant to cakes and baking? If you cope with more reading, I'll enlighten you.
After Freya was born, life was hell. I won't sugar coat it. It was awful. Nothing can really prepare you for the journey home from hospital, to a house filled with baby things, with no baby to show off to the world. Don't get me wrong, we did have each other, but our grief was, and always will be, separate. No matter how we tried, we had to do things in our own way.
In most part, my way of coping was through baking (alongside a bucket of wine a night). There is something to be said about how therapeutic beating butter and sugar in to oblivion by hand can be. It was a fantastic anger release, and it is only with hindsight (how wonderful a thing that is) that I realise just how much anger I had.
The following months were filled with burnt cupcakes, clouds of icing sugar, and mountains of mess, but I was determined to perfect a basic vanilla cupcake. More and more cupcakes followed, then birthday cakes too. Before I knew it, it just grew and grew out of nowhere, and here I am today.
If we fast forward to now, February 2019, this little business has grown more than I could have ever imagined. It is my baby, and it has been a mixture of joy and fear and stress to see it come this far.
Family life is now crazier than ever. We've been married for almost 6 years now, our second daughter arrived kicking and screaming (with a short stint in SCBU thrown in) in June 2016 and will be 3 this year, and baby no.3 is set to make an appearance in late July 2019.
It’s crazy, but it’s our crazy and I wouldn't change it for the world. Of course there is more to this story, there always will be. But for now, I'll stop.
Come back soon!
All my love,