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A First Letter To Emily

Dear Emily,

You are four and a half months as I write this. You are only just learning how to sit up, hold your toys, and make your sounds.

We are still chasing that illusive first giggle, but it will come. I know it will come.

The hair on your head is starting to grow, but we still are not sure what colour it will be. While your eyes are a deep blue, just like Daddy.

Your favourite song is the alphabet, complete with finger spelling actions courtesy of Mummy.

Sometimes we ring Daddy, to sing nursery rhymes together.

Moreover, sometimes you close your eyes and explore your toys, your hands, or my fingers. Just as though you are trying to step into my world for a moment.

I know you understand Mummy cannot see your pretty face. Because you always take my hand in yours and put it to your mouth when you are hungry. However, you do not do that for anyone else.

You are a beautiful baby, who knows how to captivate an audience.

Daddy loves to see the sun hitting the back of your head in the mornings when we have our coffee in the garden.

We are constantly finding new ways to keep you entertained, because your appetite for information is insatiable. However, we would not have it any other way.

I would like to think I know what you want, at least some of the time. Although I have to confess to not always getting it, right.

Nevertheless, this is what I know:

You love to explore everything. If you could walk, you probably would.

You love to watch Daddy hang out the washing, and Mummy unstack the dishwasher.

You are impatient when the pram is still, but you love to look at the birdies in the trees.

You wiggle your chin when you want your dummy. In addition, you rub your eyes and shake your head when you are tired.

Lastly, the car always puts you to sleep.

One day, when you are a bit bigger, you will ask me what you were like as a baby, and these are some of the things I will say:

You were the sweetest thing.

Daddy and I were so excited when we found out you were coming.

He bagsed staying home to look after you before I had even thought that far ahead.

We tried to keep our news a delicious secret.

However, the love we felt was simply too big, to be contained in just two people’s hearts, so we had to tell everyone.

Still the love was too big, so in turn; everyone had to tell everyone else.

And the love for you grew and grew and grew some more.

At first Mummy was not sure if she had imagined you, but six weeks later, it was confirmed.

I think that is when we started calling you Little. Because calling you the baby, simply did not feel enough. You were a part of our family, thus you needed a name.

At first, we did not know if you were a boy or a girl, but when we found out, Mummy squealed with delight, then wept with love and happiness as I told your daddy.

He chose your name, Emily, after your great grandmother.

We were nervous about becoming your parents, because we had never been parents before. We had been many things. For example, Daddy used to be the lead guitarist in a rock band, while Mummy had been a runner.

However, there was nothing else for it, so as with all great adventures, we began to prepare for your arrival.

As you know, the only type of shopping Daddy likes is at the grocery store. Therefore, he sent your Thia Jessica and me to buy your bed. I hope you like it. I tried to pick something, which would serve you until you left home, and maybe beyond.

For nine months you grew and grew and grew some more. All safe and sound inside my belly.

Even then, you were such a wiggle bottom. I could feel you from eight weeks onward.

At first you were a butterfly kiss deep inside, but slowly you became a cheeky monkey who liked to swing off my ribs, turn circles in my tummy, and play hidings with anyone who tried to feel you.

You grew so big, that mummy needed to use an extra-long cane to walk, and sometimes Daddy had to help me get out of bed, the car, off the lounge, up the steps, and to do up my shoes.

Every afternoon when Daddy would come home from work, he would call to you, and you would kick Mummy’s belly in excitement at the sound of his voice.

I did a lot of baking in those days. Because it was the only thing, I felt I could do.

I would take our piano stool into the kitchen, sit there with a cup of tea, some toast, and mix cake batter.

I wonder if you will like to cook when you are a big girl.

Finally, finally the day came when you were born.

Mummy could not push you out, so the doctors had to help you into the world via a Caesarean.

Therefore, they opened Mummy’s belly, and lifted you out.

However, you were stubborn, and wanted to stay inside me for a little bit longer, so you hooked your foot up under my rib, the way you so often did when I was pregnant, and made the doctors earn their keep.

Your daddy was the first one to see you, and his heart burst with joy.

Luckily, for us the nurses made him go and get his camera at the last minute, so we have lots of pictures.

I cried with happiness when I heard your first sound. It was so familiar, and so new at the same time.

It was as if I knew you already, but could not wait to get to know you some more.

I was so proud of you for being born.

That moment will stay with me forever.

I was awe struck by your presence.

I had never witnessed a miracle before, but you. You were our miracle.

My surgery took a turn, so you went with Daddy to the special newborn baby ward, while the doctors and nurses made sure Mummy was ok.

You and Daddy have always had a close bond, and I am ever so grateful for that relationship.

I will never forget the day after you arrived, when Daddy walked into the hospital, gave Mummy a kiss on the head, picked you up out of your crib, and sat down without saying a word.

It was as if he needed nothing more in the world, because we had you. It has pretty much been like that ever since.

You have always loved to be in Daddy’s arms. Actually, that is my favourite place as well.

However, I bet you already know that.

He would change your nappies, put on your clothes, give you baths, take you for long walks in the pram, and dance you across the lounge-room.

Yes, Daddy has always been silly, but you inspire him to be extra silly.

You will not remember the day he put your potty on his head to make you laugh, but I do.

Nor will you remember how he would soothe you to sleep, shade your eyes from the elements, kiss your toes, or put you next to me first thing in the morning.

At first you were so tiny you would fit in one arm, but gradually you grew and grew and grew some more, until we had to carry you with two arms.

Now you are a big girl who can walk and talk, and brush her own teeth. And we are so proud of who you are becoming.

When I used to feed you, you would cross your legs like a lady, and clasp your hands like an angel. However, as we got to know each other a little more, we would hold hands as you suckled my milk, and I would tell you stories, sing you songs, listen to audio books, check my email, and write about you on Facebook.

Yes even then, mummy spent way too much time engaged with technology, but I hope it has not left you feeling anything less than the centre of our world.

Every day we would marvel at the new things you were learning.

How to smile, how to reach, how to wriggle, how to arch your back.

You were always so interested in the world around you.

I had tears in my eyes the first time you accidentally held your dummy, because I was so filled with pride and wonder.

However, my heart broke when you were in pain from those first two teeth coming through.

In addition, I always always cried when you got your needles, or had to have the smallest of medical procedures.

You were ever so inquisitive.

We always had to come up with new games, new songs, new things, and new ways to entertain you.

You would sit in your rocker while Daddy hung out the washing.

And you would cuddle next to me in the warm winter sunshine on Mummy’s big bed, as I would make puppet shows with your toys, or show you how to do yoga.

At first, you were a quiet baby, but then you found your voice. Which is not surprising because Daddy and I have always spoken to you.

You would talk to the cushions on the lounge, the tissues in the bathroom, the blue towel, the baby in the mirror, the rocking chair, the fridge, the shrubs in the garden, the pictures on the nappy box, and the bookshelves.

However, your absolute favourite thing to do was to have no pants.

No pants solved everything. At least for a few minutes.

So you grew and grew and grew some more.

There is not a day, which goes by where I do not think how lucky we are to have you.

Being your mummy and daddy is one of our favourite things.

We love you Little.


Published inLove Letters To Little

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