Dear Baby Oops
Dear Baby Oops,
The day before I found out (or even suspected) about you, Kev and I were walking through the park and I had an overwhelming feeling that life was about to change dramatically. Looking back, even I can't believe how much.
You aren't here yet, but you have moved the course of the whole river of our lives. I didn't realise how stagnant I had become, staying put because it was safer. My tiny house, my job, my thoughts about what I wanted for my career and what we wanted for our lives, were all on the "safe" side. We stayed because it was easier. But the change has been good and exhilarating and scary and hard work. For the last 37 weeks, your quiet presence has ripped through the old and brought so many changes. As we cozy into our new lives here in an amazing new house, in a lovely new town, I find myself breathing quiet whispers of "thank you" in your direction.
Thank you for the push to move, to leave work, to rethink where we are going in life. For a long time, I had felt a bit dead to the world, living along the same path I'd been on because it was what I knew. That faint line in the middle of the night that heralded your existence rocked me to the core, like no other event I'd ever experienced. I can't remember when I've cried so hard. I now know, you woke me up. I don't know what the future holds, but I know it'll be an adventure and I can't wait to share it with you.
And so, I wanted to say "thank you" out loud and tell you I'm ready for you (well, I haven't unpacked your box yet, but I at least know where it is). Come and meet us and change us all even more for the better (but please feel free to wait until your due date and after Georgia turns one. Two children under one is probably more than I can take).
Oh, a word of warning. Your siblings are rather crazy. I'm sorry about that. We have tried trading them in for something quieter like a flock of parrots or herd of elephants, but zoning laws have forbidden it. You'll get used to them...eventually.