Adoption in London — Phil and Lucy's story

Hello, we're Phil and Lucy, a couple living in South-West London, and this is our adoption story. Like many London couples, our road to parenthood was tough — pregnancy losses caused by a rare genetic condition, heartbreak, and at one point, real uncertainty about whether we wanted to be parents at all. But the journey ultimately led us to Jigsaw and to our daughter Amara.

How we got here

Our story began just over eleven years ago when we first met. It turned out we'd been at the same university at the same time, in different years. A shared love of walking, food, and Nordic crime dramas brought us together quickly. We'd both lived in Sheffield for a couple of years before getting together, though we hadn't crossed paths then. Life together had more ups than downs, and we both knew parenthood was in our future. Watching our friends start having children, we just assumed it would happen for us too.

After getting married six years ago, we began trying to conceive. At first things seemed hopeful. But after our second pregnancy ended in miscarriage, doctors referred us for genetic testing. The results revealed that one of us carries a rare inherited condition that makes it very unlikely for a pregnancy to go full term.

Over the next three years, every medical route became our focus — IVF with genetic screening, gene mapping, then egg donation both here and overseas. Each path seemed to bring more obstacles and no guarantees. After another four losses, the realisation hit us that we couldn't keep going through the same cycle.

Considering adoption

During a quiet weekend away in the Peak District, adoption first entered our serious conversations. Neither of us came from families where adoption had been openly discussed, and we didn't know anyone who had adopted. Slowly we realised that we had more love to give, and that becoming a family didn't have to start with our own pregnancy.

Online research became our starting point. Some adoption stories offered hope; others seemed much more frightening. Forums, blogs, and long podcasts filled our evenings. A lot of the content focused on how difficult adoption could be, which at times felt overwhelming. Many people talked about marriages being tested. Some had split up and shared custody of their adopted children as the only way to manage.

What we really wanted was to hear from people who had gone through the process with a realistic but hopeful perspective. Sugar-coating wasn't necessary, but we also didn't want to be scared off before we'd even started.

A friend of Lucy's had a colleague who had adopted siblings, and she introduced us. Coffee and every question we could think of followed. She and her wife were honest, clearly still in the thick of parenting, but they told us without hesitation: it was worth it.

Our local authority offered an information session, so we agreed to attend — but there was a ten-week wait just for the next presentation, and the session left us more disheartened than inspired. Apparently there were too many adopters in London looking to adopt children. The message felt like: this is going to be too hard.

Giving up wasn't an option, so independent agencies (sometimes called voluntary agencies) became our next focus.

Choosing Jigsaw

We came across Jigsaw through an online search, and what stood out immediately was the tone of their website — warm, personal, and clear. We filled out the contact form and were surprised, in the best way, when someone got back to us within two days to offer a one-to-one meeting.

We had our first video call about a week later. It felt informal but respectful. We didn't feel like we were being judged or tested, just listened to. We talked about our background, what had brought us to this point, and what we hoped family life might look like.

What we valued most was the transparency. The team explained how the assessment process worked, what was possible, what was unlikely and why. We had a second call about how support would be provided because we had more questions. There was no sales pitch — just straightforward answers, with a promise to send more details.

After a few follow-up emails, we registered with Jigsaw.

The assessment

People had warned us that the assessment might be intrusive or exhausting. It is thorough — but we didn't find it invasive. Going through IVF had prepared us for things being invasive. The adopter app in Stage 1 helped us break everything into manageable steps, and setting aside time each weekend let us work through different parts of the paperwork.

By Stage 2 we had a good working pattern. Lucy took on the paperwork side (she's a spreadsheet person) while Phil prepared the practical bits — clearing the spare rooms of all our junk, getting new carpets installed, researching cars and play facilities in London. Lucy researched local nurseries and schools. The reading about attachment and trauma was something we tackled together.

The hardest part of the assessment was going back over our history of pregnancy loss. But our social worker's approach to those conversations helped us both reflect. If we're honest with each other, those discussions also gave us a kind of closure on not having children born to us.

The preparation groups were equally informative and emotional. Four other couples joined us, and we're still in touch with them now. The first day felt very raw — it's a lot to take in. By the end of four days, a huge amount had landed. Early experiences and their impact on a child's behaviour became clear, as did the importance of life story work. Pearl, our trainer, was excellent and paced everything really well. Our final day was with Erik, one of the co-founders. There were some hard realities to absorb, but the overall experience was supportive.

Panel day

People warned us we'd feel more nervous once we saw the panel members — strangers who had read all about our lives, making judgements. The nerves definitely kicked in. But reminding ourselves that the agency wanted our success as much as we did helped settle the anxiety.

The panel members were warm and curious. Their questions were thoughtful. It was completely different from what we'd read online. Rather than interrogating us, they were trying to understand us better. It's not like a court hearing. One of them asked what we'd learned about ourselves through the process.

When the letter arrived saying we'd been recommended for approval, we were back in the Peak District. Tears flowed. Hot chocolate became our celebration drink, and Lucy's sister got a phone call — she had been cheering us on throughout.

Matching

The intensity of the family-finding stage wasn't something we'd fully anticipated. Going from all that preparation back to waiting felt even more personal this time.

The first few profiles didn't feel like the right match, which was hard. Understanding why was difficult. Khalida arranged to talk with us about what was holding us back. Together we worked out that all our previous disappointments had created panic when we got close to success.

“Khalida explained that a profile only asked us to commit to finding out more. Figuring out our feelings could happen as things progressed.”

Our worker remained calm and pragmatic, reminding us that saying no was okay, and that the right child would come.

Three months after approval, a profile arrived for a two-year-old girl, Amara. Something clicked that we couldn't explain. Her foster carer described her as observant and imaginative. The videos showed her playing with toy animals, and both of us just knew.

Things moved quickly after that. A visit with her social worker came first, then another with her foster carer, and then matching panel. Our nerves went through the roof, but another positive recommendation arrived.

Becoming parents

Introductions were staggered over two weeks. Short playdates in the foster home started the process, gradually building up to taking her out to the park and having lunch together. Amara was understandably wary at first. But slowly, her openness began to show. The same cuddly elephant came with us each time, and reading the same book gave her familiar touchpoints.

On day ten, she came home with us.

Nothing prepares you for the emotional intensity of those first few weeks. But the support from Jigsaw and the foster carer was brilliant — calling, texting, or asking questions any time. That made such a difference.

Life now

Ten months have passed since Amara joined our family. She loves singing, climbing on anything that looks remotely like a frame, and pretending to cook dinner for us. Routines have developed — breakfast with "Mr Elephant" at the table, nursery drop-off in South London, bedtime stories. Tricky moments certainly happen, but every week brings something new and joyful.

The process of applying for the adoption order is currently underway, and it feels surreal in the best way.

“Your story might not be traditional, but that doesn't mean it can't lead to a loving family.”

For anyone thinking about it

If you're reading this and wondering whether adoption might be the right path — particularly if you're based in London — we'd say this. Don't rule yourself out. Your story might not be traditional, but that doesn't mean it can't lead to a loving family. Find an agency that really listens. Jigsaw did that for us. They guided us, challenged us when needed, and never made us feel like just another case.

There will be waiting, doubt, and admin. But there will also be transformation. Becoming a parent is a journey — this just happens to be ours.

Phil and Lucy are based in South-West London and worked with Jigsaw's London team. Read more about adoption in London.