I feel you move. I massage the spot.

You push up to meet me, my fingers and your limbs connecting through skin.

I already know so much about you.

Your nightly hiccups, how you stretch about.

Swooshing around me when I sit

Getting excited when I drink magnesium, every single time.

I feel you poking, testing

Knocking at my front door.

I know you’re nearly here.

But we waited for you for 5 years

And those years feel like a lifetime.

You were cautious, waiting, watching

Hanging onto God’s word

What’s a few more days now?

As you stretch into me, push on my muscles, bones, fibres and nerves

Flexing before you greet the world that was always waiting for you,

Darling baby, I want you to know this…

I never gave up on you. Even when I had no idea where to turn, I never lost hope.

Hope was something I would pride myself on, and yet it also killed me.

But still, I held onto the thought of you.

I heard your voice, telling me to hold on, and I wept tears of joy and sadness.

Where were you, and why was it taking so long?

I now know. I now get it.

It was always meant to be this way.

And although it’s all easily said and done now

I accept it all, and I am ready for you.

I can’t wait to see your little fingers and toes.

To feel your head rest against my skin.

To smell your sweet breath and breathe in your newborn skin.

To hear you cry out for me, again and again and again.

To look you in the eye and for you to look right back.

I am ready for this beautiful life with you to begin. Whenever you want.

We are here. Patiently. Waiting. 🙏💞