Wednesday, June 16, 2010

To my unborn son

I have always dreamt that one day I would be a mother, a nurturer, someone who would have the privilege to share the world with my children.

That day is approaching.

We are expecting your arrival any day now with excited anticipation and with a huge dose of impatience.

What will you look like? Will you have your father's sea-blue eyes and my thick dark hair? Will you have my stubby toes? Or his long, strong legs?

When we first found about you, I was ecstatic, overwhelmed and scared all at once. Was I ready to become a mum? Well, ready or not, I have enjoyed these past nine months more than I ever thought I could.

Every night without fail, I have dreamt about the imminent labour, your birth, your first cry, the first moments of holding you in my arms, the first time we bring you home, the uncertainty of what to do with a new-born baby mixed with the exhilaration of being honoured to be your care-giver.

I can hardly believe these dreams will soon materialize into reality.

These past 9 months have been full of adventure and change. We bought a house, moved countries and are now settled in a place where neither of us have ever been to. We have read up on pregnancy and childbirth as much as we could, attended ante-natal classes and discussed our dreams and thoughts for countless hours. We've even written up a will in the unlikely circumstance that life could take an unfortunate turn for the worst.

But are you ever truly ready to become parents?

We've acquired quite a collection of 'must haves' in terms of the hardware that comes with caring for you. The Moses basket came with three left legs which your Dad immediately sorted out with some creativity - and the stumps of my piano stool. Now it is perfect; all that's missing is a little person to fill it.

We've got a fabulous bright red pushchair and the most adorable little clothes with matching socks. We can't help but spoil you already.

I've met many other parents and parents-to-be (mainly mums) and I am overwhelmed by the strong social networks that are out there to help us in any and every possible situation. There is comfort in knowing that there is a vast amount of information out there when we are so far away from our families.

I realize these last few precious days will be something of a pleasant memory; the leisurely mornings, the peaceful strolls around town, the fact that I can do what I want, when I want. Pretty soon you will be here and our focus will shift dramatically. I embrace these changes to come, and although I can't say for sure how I will cope, I am definitely entering this new phase with open eyes and open arms.

You have taken very good care of me during the pregnancy. You taught me how to take care of myself by ensuring I keep fit and eat well. You showed me how to embrace my leisure time and to indulge in my passions and hobbies.

You have brought your father and me even closer, when I didn't think that was possible. You have made us so proud already by growing big and healthy with each passing week.

We couldn't be happier.

Already you have brought so much joy to everyone in our lives, near and far. I can't believe the power you have over us, the way you have been able to knit our families closer together. Just simply by being you and existing.

There is so much I want to show and share with you. I can hardly wait, sometimes I think I'm going to burst. Of course I'm under no illusion that life comes with its ups and downs and although I don't know how it will all work out, this much I know: you are very much loved.

No comments: