Today we had a chat. Well, I did all the talking and you just listened.
I thought it was time we discussed what is about to happen to you. Very soon baby – you are going to be born!
On the one hand, I simply cannot wait. I cannot wait to finally meet you and cuddle you, to get my body back, and to be able to move around easily again! I cannot wait for our family to begin. And for all of the adventures we will have together.
But then, on the other hand, I think about you – how safe and protected you have been inside me, for 9 months now, and what a scary experience it could be for you to suddenly be thrust out into a foreign world.
So, when I was speaking with you (and you were squirming around in my tummy so I definitely know you were listening), I told you not to worry – that we are on the journey together, and I will be right there to catch you when you arrive. In fact, I will always be there to catch you – even when you no longer need me to.
I’ve spent a lot of time preparing for your birth, baby – mentally, as well as physically. And fully educating myself on the physiology of what is going to happen. It’s still so incredible for me to think that such a natural, normal process (birth) – something that is continuously happening all over the earth – can still be such a momentous event for one woman and her baby. And for a first time mother, it can be especially daunting – there is, unfortunately, a lot of fear mongering associated with labour and birth in the western world (not to mention a lot of pressure to turn pregnancy into a medical event, by default instead of actual necessity). So I have spent the last 9 months eradicating fear from my experiences.
And so, I have maintained a sense of self-empowerment that I plan to bring with me to my labour. I trust my body to be fully capable of bringing you into this world, without interference, and I am completely open to (and excited about!) the process that lies ahead of me. Whatever happens, letting go and remembering to just breathe is about all I need to do – there is nothing to fight. Just a tremendous journey to go on.
And, should we encounter any bumps in the road at all, we are fortunate to live in a country where emergency services are utterly amazing. We have nothing to fear, baby.
But this is not just about my labour – this is your birth.
And the thing is, baby – when the time comes, I know you’ll know what to do.
I hope I can remind myself often, when the going gets tough, that every part of the process brings you closer to me. And if I can focus and go deep enough then perhaps, for a short period of time, we can be in-between our two worlds together.
You know something, I have been teasing your daddy throughout my pregnancy that if you are a little girl, I will call you my Tinkerbell. He’s not keen. Don’t worry – I won’t record that on your birth certificate of course – it will just be my little nickname for you. And if you are a little boy I will absolutely come up with something else… but I came across this Tinkerbell quote in a wonderful article I read recently and, no matter who you are baby, I think it says everything that I have tried to write to you in this letter:
“You know that place between sleep and awake? That place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you… that’s where I’ll be waiting.”
And that’s where we are right now baby, an in-between place. A place where we won’t be for much longer – but a place where our two hearts will always be together.
I have had the most amazing 9 months carrying you.
Your journey will begin soon, baby… whenever you are ready. And when you reach the other end, those will be my arms that hold you. My eyes spilling onto you. My mouth kissing your cheek and telling you over and over that I love you. And then… I will finally introduce you to your daddy.
We cannot wait to meet you little one.
Any day now.
Your Mumma. Xxx