6:37pm Friday 26 August 2016
It feels like I have been waiting to meet you for a lifetime. 40 weeks was long enough but the extra 16 days have been excruciating.
I'm writing this from my hospital bed, a place I'm keen to leave if only you would make an appearance. I never expected to get this late in the month without seeing your face.
Already so different to your big sister, you have thrown our plans into chaos and left us wondering if your birthday will ever actually arrive.
I am desperate to meet you. I have spent countless hours trying to imagine what you will look like, what you will be like and how it will feel to finally hold you in my arms. Whenever I try to imagine meeting you for the first time, all I can see is your big sister's face staring back at me all those years ago when she crashed into my world and made me a mother. But I already know you'll be nothing like he. I couldn't have had two more different pregnancies and I'm sure the same will be said about your personalities.
And she is so desperate to meet you. She has been waiting patiently since December, counting down the weeks until your arrival. Only you didn't arrive, instead you decided to stay put a little longer, stretching out my tummy more with each passing day as you let me know you're happy in there with your kicks and nudges. So now your big sister has stopped counting down the days, instead she tells me each day how much she hopes you'll be born today. She wants to meet you, she wants to become a big sister and, most of all, she wants all of her family together at home at long last.
Everything is already so different to how I imagined it. I thought you'd arrive weeks ago, born into a pool at home under the loving gaze of your big sister. But instead I'm awaiting your arrival in hospital. You seem to want a little longer in there, you're not quite ready to take your place in the world just yet. And that's ok. I'm trying to give you the time you need. It's not easy, the days pass slowly in hospital and sometimes it feels like it will never happen. I have to work hard to remind myself that it will, that one day soon I'll be holding you, brand new little you, in my arms and you'll gaze into my eyes and my heart will swell and nothing will ever be quite the same again. I keep trying to focus on that moment, imagining what it will feel like and telling myself it will be soon.
It won't be long until you wrap your little hand tightly around my finger. It won't be long until I can marvel at your eyelashes, hold you close and share you with the world.
Every night I go to bed hoping that this is it, that I'll wake up in labour and meet you hours later. I can't wait to meet you. I know you'll be worth the wait.
Love always, even from my hospital bed,