This morning a friend sent me a link to this beautiful blog post. It’s a letter to an unborn child and it’s preoccupied me all morning.
What would I say to mine? Unfortunately the things which immediately sprung to mind were in the form of various apologies:
– Sorry for bending the diet rules a little when it came to that prawn starter in that gorgeous restaurant in the south of France. I honestly didn’t know they were part of the dish when I ordered it but you have to admit they were delicious.
– Sorry for complaining on Facebook about you using my bladder as a trampoline and my ribcage as a set of monkey bars. I of all people should understand the impact of a digital footprint – hope it doesn’t prove too humiliating in 15 years time.
– If you feel a big squishy smack on the bottom/leg/forehead from time to time it’s your big brother enthusiastically pointing out to all and sundry where his little bro is currently residing. He is super excited about meeting our new “beebee” but he hasn’t quite mastered the gentle touch yet. He is only two, although that probably seems like 97 to you.
– You know when I told your dad he should try carting you around for a day and see how it feels? I was honestly mad at him rather than you – please don’t take it personally, you know I didn’t really mean it (cough).
– Apologies for that word I said last night when I woke up for the FOURTH time in two hours to go to the loo – it was very rude and you should never ever repeat it.
– Sorry that I’ve been so stressed out at various points during this pregnancy – I desperately hope that what has been an emotional rollercoaster for me at times has been no more than a mild case of butterflies in the tummy for you, if that. Please know that I would do anything and everything to protect you and your brother from all of life’s curve balls (well, the bad ones anyway) but I also have to tell you with a very heavy heart that this is inevitably going to be an impossible task.
See what I mean? it may sound like things are not off to the best of starts. But we are all so looking forward to meeting you in three weeks time (or thereabouts). Oh – if you could find it within yourself to be born on a day while Nanny is visiting, and without mummy requiring any major surgery/counselling/vodka afterwards that would be totally awesome too.
Lots of love xxx