SAHM Diaries: A Letter To The Bump

Dear baby,

I’ve been wanting to write you for a while now, in fact I had plans to document our entire journey; this one we’re on just you and me. Yet lately I’ve been finding it increasingly hard to find the words, any in fact (I can hear friends and family scoffing); you see my sweet it’s totally unlike me.  Or at least it’s totally unlike my original incarnation, that of the girl I was before you and your brother but, she’s the girl that’s remained frozen and ingrained in their minds.

Let me fill you in… Over the years there have been some deep dips and voluptuous curves to life and with your pending arrival I feel that I’m as close as ever now to completely boxing up and putting away those past events, despite them having possibly formed me in some parts a long the way but, I don’t need to hold on to them anymore; like ex-boyfriends, impulsively purchased expensive shoes, disappointing job promotions and epic, drunken nights out… All things you are yet to experience and endure. But… there was always going to be a ‘but’ wasn’t there? With the fading lows has also come a dipping trend in the counter balancing highs. I’ve regressed into myself a lot more and become less vocal. I’m certain you sense my silence, I feel you wriggle and jiggle inside like you’re desperate for my attention and I’m here my love.  I’ve just been watching more this time around, like a voyeur to my own life and those (including you) in it, rather than an active participant and for that I’m sorry! This pregnancy has rushed past so quickly I’ve not had the time to catch up with myself, let alone you. And yet I’ve so, so much to say.  So much to tell you and oh so many wrongs I want to right before you arrive, but, mummy just doesn’t have the energy! It’s my voice you see I can’t get it to scream loud enough, to be heard because the words won’t articulate themselves into functioning, no not functioning, triggering, divisive sentences.  I’ve spent so long with my head down, keeping my nose clean and grafting on the basic needs of our little unit that I’ve forgotten how to play the bigger game and so I’m trying to learn so that I can then teach you!

There’s a Joni Mitchel song (one of many Grandpa and I will introduce you to) that resonates so much with how I’m feeling, that recently a couple of the verses have been spinning on repeat in my mind (apologies if they’ve kept you up!):

“But now old friends they’re acting strange 
They shake their heads, they say I’ve changed
Well something’s lost, but something’s gained 
In living every day.
I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all”
Don’t worry, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been my entire life and the most confident about my current life choices and path yet the most unsure of what my actual opinions are on things, on anything or anyone other than you, Daddy and Theon.  All I know is that it’s been a struggle to get here and I’m not bitter at all, we’ve still away to go to be basking in the full beam of the sun, but I can see it in view, rising on the horizon.  I wish I could bite off a chunk and share that with you. Something to warm and reassure you. Your brother was born on an aftermath of so much pain and fear, I’m pretty sure it took him his first year to unravel those nerves I bestowed upon him. Your birth legacy (however quiet this pregnancy has been) is that your entry to this world is paved with the unadulterated happiness of 3 (and all the rest) people’s eager anticipation of your arrival, we’re not a financially privileged family but my child we are emotionally rich and getting richer.
 
In Greece they have a saying, a wish for labour “me ena pono!” – with one pain/push and although I hope it only stings a little this time ‘round, the truth is I’d endure any level of pain for you.
And so I guess comes the end of this letter and chapter with a lesson in life learnt before yours has even begun; this world is a difficult place to survive and can be painful at times but, if you are patient the rewards can be glorious, because beyond the dawn, life is glorious as are you!
See you you soon my sweet.
love,
Mumma x

4 Comments

  1. 17th April 2018 / 11:45 am

    Oh my goodness, this was so sweet to read. And so honest too! Your little one will read it back some day and it will mean the world, I’m sure x

    • Booberrit
      17th April 2018 / 2:04 pm

      Aw thank you! I really appreciate your kind words.

  2. 27th April 2018 / 11:32 am

    This is such a sweet little letter. Stay positive the sun really does always shine and there is always light, we just need to look for it sometimes.
    Thank you for joining #BigPinkLink

  3. Booberrit
    27th April 2018 / 2:56 pm

    Thank you Kirsty!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *