You are 6 months old. It is 6 months since I laboured with you and gave birth to you on the floor upstairs. You are currently curled up in my lap. You keep reaching out with your chubby little fingers and grope my face. Sometimes gently and sometimes you nearly take my eye out or nose off as you feel your way around. I feel the bond between us is so powerful. When I was having contractions I would talk to you inside my head and tell you that we are doing this together, there is nothing we can’t achieve together and somehow I feel that still. I look in your eyes and I’m so in love and so full of hope for the future we will share together. I hope we will drink booze and go to festivals and dance and sing. I hope we will eat great food and travel and laugh. I imagine us eating cheese and drinking wine as women in Paris. I imagine us watching Arcade Fire and drinking pear cider at Glastonbury as I tell you how I saw and met them when I was your age. I wonder what you will look like and who you will be with only one real hope – that you’ll be happy.
You’ve just cut your first tooth and it’s like a little razor – you keep biting my nipple to tell me you aren’t hungry if I try to nurse you when you aren’t ready. You have bright blue eyes and a smattering of ginger fuzzy hair. I love your little snub nose and touch it a million times a day. You idly flick your hands back and forth to feel different textures. You giggle at me pretending to eat your fingers. You are on a mission to grow, learn and get places and it’s going much too quickly for me. I’m in love with you right now but the baby I see in front of me becomes someone else everyday, lost to memories. I love your chubby cheeks and even chubbier bum. I’m pretty sure you’ve inherited my thighs, I’m sorry!
You’ve just realised that distance is big and scary and have started to cry whenever I try to leave you. Most my trips to the toilet include you sitting in my lap. You are desperate to try food and will have your first try tomorrow! You’ve only had breastmilk until now, you’ve never even had a bottle.
You hate sleep just like your big brother did and getting you to nap is like going to war but you are a delight anyway.
I love you so, your mammy xxx