I’m writing this from your bedroom. I am sitting in a rocking chair with a small table to my left, a wee clothing rack to my right, and slightly further afield is your cot, your changing table, another chair, and a rug and soft play mat on the floor. Maisie has decided the play mat is hers, by the way. You may have to fight her for it.
A year ago we were planning this cycle. We were only a few weeks away from the regime of pills and injections that would lead to egg collection that would lead to embryo creation, that would lead to you.
You. You came from nothing. Cells manipulated and forced together by science. An embryologist created your beginnings and then a doctor and his team made you real.
In 5 days at the latest, you’ll be on your way. We’ll hold you and sing to you and give you your name. I’m hoping you’ll decide to show up a bit quicker, but if not, that will be just fine. You have so many people waiting to meet you, and a puppy that wants to give you lots and lots of licks.
I still can’t believe it sometimes. How did we get so lucky that it all finally clicked into place? How am I going to be a mum in 5 or so days? What will you look like? What will you do with your life? Who will you be?
I love you so much.