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Monday, 24 January 2011

Letter to my daughter

When I said I wanted a second child, my Mum said, "You can't even manage the one you've got!". She always had a way with words. Little did I know that as we had that conversation, you had already taken up residence in my tummy.

As I already had a son, I so wanted you to be a little girl. I kept that to myself though.

The actuality of the pregnancy was a bit of a shock and it took me a few months to come to terms with it. Then there was a little scare part way through and that made me wake up the fact that timing was irrelevant. I wanted you whether you fitted in with my career plans or not.

Labour was horrendous with you. The midwives bent me, shaked me, anyway they wanted me but you took ages to put in an appearance. You were 9 days late and I reckon you only turned up on Good Friday because you had heard chocolate eggs were on their way for Easter.

When they told me you were a girl, I as over the moon. My husband was surprised that I had wanted a girl so much and not told him. Relations visited with cards, flowers and champagne.

We took you home (and ate your Easter Egg!). You slept for hours and hours. We took you to see your grandparents and still you slept. I got to the point where I thought you would never wake up.

You were such a good baby. Basically, you had two modes - eat and sleep.

However, I was struck down by post-natal depression. I loved you. I looked after you. But there was no joy in my heart. I felt a sense of disconnection and this lasted far too long as I did not seek any help.

There was a long journey out of the depression and I have talked elsewhere on this blog about that.

So let's celebrate you!

You are like a mini me. You look like me with your mad hair and perfect skin. Your figure is already becoming like mine, all slim waisted with a huge bum.

You are full of ideas, great with story-telling, music and art and design. You always have a pen or crayon in your hand. There is always a model, a painting or similar on the go. Nothing makes you happier than your art.

You have my flaws. You can fly off the handle in extreme but vaguely impressive ways. You can be stubborn and insist on your own way. When you don't get it, you will either sulk or turn on the coy charm. You can work your Daddy around your little finger. You are not particularly impressed by boys but that may be my propoganda. We all laughed when you wrote down "All boys are shit except Grandad"

I adore you. You are so quirky and lovely. I know you really love me and we cuddle up all the time. You still sneak into my bed every chance you get too. You bring me deep pleasure every day of our lives together.

Never doubt that I love you to bits!

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