This time one year ago I was at your dads house.
I had just told him about you, after 12 hours of sheer panic and me getting used to the idea I was going to be a mum; going to be part of something bigger than me for the first time in my life.
I hid under the duvet and said "I'm not having the surgery anymore..." which I was due to have in 5 days. He said "Why not?" while he kept his gaze on the tv. I said quickly, "Because I'm pregnant."
I cried, in fear of what he was going to say or do. He told me not to cry. He then cried for four hours straight.
Part of me, well, majority of me was wondering whether I could hack the parenting gig; ever. No matter what age I was or who I was with, we always ask ourselves whether we are ready.
Some people told me I couldn't do it and that "_______'s are the hardest" and "I couldn't have done it without _______" and "it's not a walk in the park". I was relieved it wasn't a walk in the park because I didn't like walking in parks anyway, really- not at least until you came along. No one had any faith in me; but I had so much in myself and you, which is why Faith is your middle name.
I had people phoning, emailing, texting and knocking on the door trying to break me down and tell me things to change my mind. Those people even got to my real supporters and had them in doubt for a bit too- which I obviously got past.
My morning sickness lasted until 20+ weeks, and if people were coming over in the morning I'd have to say "after 10" because I was a mess/throwing up until about then. The earlier people came over, the more I was sick. Some showed sympathy, others* told me "it's what you wanted" and carried on being jerks.
I ended up being alone majority of the pregnancy, for reasons I don't want you to know about until you are old enough, but just know it hurt mummy very much. How I would have loved to have a massage, to have someone love me and you equally, to have my dinner cooked or dishes done, to have the vacuuming done or the shower cleaned... To have the rogue undies pulled out of the washing machine (I had to buy some tongs as you were in the way, and I couldn't reach in), to have my sheets changed and aired.... ANY of the above.
The first 9 months of your existence were painful-as though someone had put tar on the bottom of my shoes and rocks in my 'frontpack'- more every day. My leg hair grew like fluff instead of wires, and I got a fine 'fuzz' on my arms. Stretch marks were exciting; they were proof this was real. I grew 2cm in height, for the first time in 6 years and now have horizontal stretchies on my lower back. My feet and ankles turned into pig trotters and I couldn't find the bones. I got carpal tunnel in my wrists/arms; which meant I got pins and needles when I lay in the wrong position and they hurt a LOT. I knew all these things would end, and most did, apart from the stretchies ;)
I bought some moccasins as my feet were pretty much paddles. They no longer fit me. They would probably only fit my grandad.
I was told I couldn't do 'it'; because I don't ever stick with anything, like school or jobs (which is not true). But what parent in their right mind doesn't stick with their baby?... Really?! It's not just me, it's all parents. No one leaves their baby. No one just gives up, and I don't give up on anything I just know when to let go. The person who told me I never stick with anything obviously didn't think that through because I 'stuck with him' through a lot. So, there.
I have been all over this Earth. I have loved, and lost. I have been drunk and experimented with one type of drug. I have stolen things and put things back in the wrong place. I have cried rivers and smiled so hard it hurt. I've worn clothes too tight and too loose and my hair has been in some strange ways. I've been on a boat, a bus, a bike, a plane, rollerskates, ice skates, and I love driving. I've done things, had no regrets. I've been cut open, and I've been sewn shut. I've had my heart broken and ached for days. I live for the burnt colours of Autumn and happiness of Spring, especially now it's your birthday in Spring. I've worn high heels for weeks of my life and that is enough. I've fallen in love too easily and taken too long for recover.
I have never been kissed at midnight on the 01/01. I don't watch enough sunrises or sunsets. I haven't been kissed in the rain. I've never really been loved by a man, who knows exactly who I am and appreciates me.
My god, I've done enough. I don't yearn to drink or want to pawn you off to someone else. I miss you too much when I leave you. I can easily be a social butterfly but I don't like it, I would rather be here in case you woke. You are my life, my job, my everything. I put my all into you because I have no where else to put my energy, and I wouldn't have it/want it any other way.
There are things on my bucket list, there are a few of them up there. Nothing major, but raising a child was and IS in bold on my list. So I'm getting there. Albeit I am doing it pretty much alone but it can still be done and I get to take all the credit for you, beautiful. ;)
You are more than a line on a list, you're more than a line on a stick too and I knew that from the beginning. It is a pity no one else did but we all do now.
My noo, my shineef, my Peach, my fingwang, my fong, my fairnoosh... My baby.
* = idiots