Dear baby Beau
Recently, your daddy and I acknowledged 3 years of love. And, we also went on our first date! That’s right. Our first.
We kinda did things the other way around to most people. To summarise (as I’m sure you won’t ever want the romantical details) we met and acknowledged a keen interest in one another, and then we went our separate ways… me to my native UK, and my home in London, whilst your daddy stayed put here in Auckland. We got to know each other via daily emails and phone calls and for 7 months we only saw each other’s face via skype video. We fell in love from opposite sides of the world, but neither of us said so. I lived my life whilst he was dreaming, and he thought about me all day whilst I slept. But we lived in a bubble, together.
Then, after all that time of your daddy telling me each day how much he adored me and missed me, I asked him what we were going to do about it. And he said, simply: “…when you’re ready, I’ll buy you a ticket to come home.” And I was ready. So, after a couple of months of agony (why I didn’t immediately get on a plane, I will never know…), I stepped into Auckland airport, fell into your daddy’s arms, and he took me home. Our home. I never left. Nor did I ever intend to.
So, on day one of our relationship, we moved in. And then we had an awesome summer, together at last – after a failed attempt many years ago (timing in life is everything, baby), and then the 9 months we had been apart since we had serendipitously met again. Then, exactly 5 months after I came to him – whilst I was in the midst of two new jobs, co-producing my first poetry event, and head deep into an Artist’s programme – he surprised me with a proposal. A fabulously romantic proposal, which he had secretly been planning for months and involved my kidnapping one seemingly uneventful Tuesday afternoon… to which I of course answered, YES! I was to become his wife, and we were over-the-moon.
We remained there, somewhere in the stratosphere, for 6 joyful months of wedding planning. It was the greatest time of my life… that is, until we actually were married. Then that was the greatest time of my life… that is, until 6 weeks later… when we unknowingly made you.
We had always talked about having babies together – it was a given. A matter of ‘when’ not ‘if’ – the time was always right. But even at that, you came along at such a tremendous speed. You blew us away, baby! My pregnancy was the greatest time of my life… that is, until we met you. And the rest is history.
And that’s just it, baby… our long distance romance, our whirlwind coupling, and you… meant that we’ve never actually been on a proper date. So here we go! Your mumma and daddy, baby, are DATING! And we never want to stop.
I want you to grow up seeing how much your mumma and daddy ADORE one another, and to understand how it is that you came to be here. I want you to feel happy when you see the way we look at each other; to enjoy seeing us holding hands when we go out, or to join us when we snuggle in on the couch. I want to hear you giggle when your daddy sweeps up your mumma to kiss her when she’s trying to cook tea, and then to tell your mumma how beautiful she looks when she shows you the dress she is wearing after your daddy tells her to ‘get changed quick’ because he is taking her out. I want you to see us be there for each other, with kindness and tenderness, for every bump in the road that life leads us through. And, most of all, I want you to grow up in this world knowing that true love is worth everything.
You see, baby – your daddy and I didn’t ‘fall’ in love. We walked firmly into it. With open eyes and open hearts, and we made a conscious decision. We want each other. We choose each other. And we commit to each other, for the rest of our lives.
I hope someday you find this baby. It might not be the first time you experience it. It might not be when you want it the most. It will likely be when you least expect it. But whenever it is – you will know. And you will remember this letter to you and you will realise when you have it…
A love like ours.
Until then, you can feel with us.