I can’t believe it’s been six months since you arrived on that sunny, mellow Monday morning last summer. I carried you inside me for 41 weeks; I could feel my love for you ballooning day by day. You won’t remember this, but I swam with you inside me for eight months. Just three days before you were born we swam together in an outside pool, in the glorious sunshine. The wind was blowing through the trees and nature was blossoming all around us. I loved our quiet, one-on-one time. I used to close my eyes and imagine what our life together would be like as I swam up and down, back and forth. Imagining we were breathing in and out at the same time. I could feel myself connecting with you stroke-by-stroke, as you grew stronger every day. I knew your arrival would be something special, I felt reassured that everything would be OK. And it was.
I nearly gave birth to you in my car, your dad and I were unorganised and late, as usual. I’m sure we’ll re-tell the story to you on your birthday every year, even when you have a family of your own. You see, your dad and I are a bit daft sometimes or carefree as we like to see it.
My heart seems to have swelled since you arrived, I’m sure it beats stronger than it used too. Weighed down with a joyful heaviness I never knew existed until you crept into our world last July. I say crept, as it really was a tiptoe shaky start. The look of anguish on your dad’s face when the nurses quickly whisked you away, shuffling around, talking rapidly under muffled voices. But then we heard your small cry and both our hearts surged with love and relief. We were in awe of you, even with your cloudy, bloodshot eyes. You were beautiful, perfect. We held you close and just drifted off to sleep as a new family of three. Our first special moment together.
We’ve since watched you grow every day, sometimes just gazing adoringly while you sleep. Everything about you is so pure. We’ve started living through you, watching you experience every part of life for the first time. We looked on excitedly as your blurry eyes focused on our beloved cat, when you giggled out loud while we blew raspberries on your tummy and when you let out a little whimper as we dipped your toes in the sea on our first family holiday. Also the first time you held the weight of your body on your little feet and rolled over, holding your head up high, pleased and proud. You won’t remember this but we all camped out on the lounge floor the night you were born. Duvets and pillows everywhere, just watching you drift in and out of sleep. We started on our adventure together that night.
Six months on we’re still experiencing first time highs. You make everyday exciting even though you’ve yet to say a word. Somehow your cheeky personality and kind heart shines through. We now spend lazy afternoons daydreaming about our first camping trip and when we’ll give you a puppy, which you’ll adore as much as we do you.
I’m looking forward to the times we’ll share, helping you learn, cuddling up on the sofa watching films and sitting on the beach listening to the waves. Watching you grow into a beautiful little girl and then a clever young lady. One day you will be older and probably a lot wiser than me. You will have your own adventure with people you love. You will become a mum and experience a love you never knew existed. This is all I hope for you. Thank you for starting our little family.
All my love