emotions

A love letter to my unborn baby

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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. 🙏💞

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A love letter to my Hubbie

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Where do I even begin?

I weep so easily thinking about our journey.

You tell me I am so strong, and yet it is you who has been my strength, my saviour, my pillar of hope and refuge during all our turbulent times.

Every time I cried, every time I said I couldn’t do it again.

Every time we had a talk, and I came to you in tatters and utter confusion.

Every time I said I couldn’t handle the outside world…

You were there for me, holding my hand and listening.

Letting me know you would always be there.

Your support and love is the greatest gift I could have ever received.

And you didn’t give me blind promises, tell me all would be ok.

You didn’t pretend like you knew the answers.

You just told me, I was enough.

We were enough.

So, as we approach this much-anticipated moment of all our wildest and craziest dreams coming true, I want to thank you.

Thank you for it all.

I need your strength just a little more. Give me one more burst…

And then some more, and more, for the rest of our lives. Because that is life.

Please know I will always be there for you too.

Unwavering, loving, “I’ve got your back.”

And I know you’ve got mine.

You are a real-life knight in shining armour. And yes, fairy tales do come true.

I love you.

A touch of Christmas, a lot of love

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There is a house I pass on my way home from my usual grocery shop, that I’ve noticed for its decorations.

I’ve noticed it, because it stands out in a street where quite a few neighbours have gone to some kind of effort in decorating their front of house for Christmas. Matching red bows on the fence. Perfect lights hung across the roof. Festive Christmas characters on the lawn.

This house, has none of those. It has tinsel – two colours – green and red, and they’ve been strung throughout the beige picket fence.

Not in a perfect, deliberate, every 5th stump kind of way. More in a mismatched, let’s put it here, let’s put it there… maybe there, kinda way.

I noticed this house early on. And then, something about it, HIT ME.

It made me teary.

This house, this home, the people within it… I can guarantee you without knowing them personally, that these people are the embodiment of what Christmas is about.

Because the extent or magnitude of your Christmas decorations has nothing to do with how much you love it. Whether you spent $1000 in flashing lights, and 6 hours of your Sunday putting things up…

It actually means nothing. Sure, it does mean you love Christmas.

It also means you have two things. Time, and money.

The person who spent $5 on tinsel and 10 minutes on a Tuesday night to put it up, they ALSO, love Christmas.

And it tugs my heart so much, because they either don’t have the time, they don’t have the money, or maybe even both, and yet despite this, in a street full of so many perfectly placed and prettied Christmas decorations, they still put up their tinsel.

They still showcase their love for Christmas, with what little they have.

THAT is true love. That there, is what it’s all about.

I still smile at the fancy lights and decorations I come across at night, as baby girl wows in the car.

But this house right here…

It hits different. It hits in the heart. 💖

Don’t lose sight of what’s important at Christmas time. 🙏🎄

Round and Round

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Sometimes you’re hurt.

“Don’t give your presence to someone when they’re not affected by your absence.”

One-way street, trying so hard to be a two-way street. Laughter, gifts, high-volume chaos, with a good dash of secrets and D&M sucks you right in. You’re in love again.

And then the absence begins. Their absence.

Why do I submit to this cycle, again and again?
Why do I chase so hard for someone who doesn’t give me the time I deserve?
Why do we do the same dance every few months?              
Why do I swear off you for life, only to be reeled back in by your intoxicating vibrant pull?

It’s the memories. Emotions. The times we’ve shared. The life-changing moments we’ve spent together from our young years all the way through to our recent ones. It continues to link us. It’s all those talks. It’s all that YOU know. It’s all that I know.

We both know, a lot.

This all makes it hurt. In the end I’m hurt, because I’m giving 150% to you. I don’t give of myself so freely, or so easily, like the person who gives you the synopsis of the last 10 years of their life plus the bonus snapshot of their upbringing within a half hour of meeting. I take time. I need to be steeped. I let you in, little by little, the milk that needs to be slowly added to the slowly developing béchamel sauce, or the stock that needs to be poured bit by bit to make that delicious risotto. And despite our varying personalities, my tea and your straight shot of tequila made a perfect blend. Yin and Yang. Peanut Butter and Chocolate.

Disappointment is rife in me. When I give so much of myself, I expect it back. Betrayed. Cheap, like some discounted gardening clippers from the $2 shop. All chopped up and left in a heap.

Should I be upset at you, or my expectation of US?

Should I be upset when you, are just being YOU?

More than anything, I’m upset that I try not to be upset, and yet still find myself mulling over you. Letting you get into my head and torture me there. I try to be flippant, nonchalant, writing you out of my life. But then I hear something, and there you are again, turning those oiled wheels in my mind, over and over.

I don’t want to, but then you make me cry.

I hate you so much right now. But as my feelings are so strong in this, I know really, I don’t.