I’ve been pondering all day whether to put this on the blog. And then I remembered that I shared my pants wetting incident with you. Not to mention the time I was found naked by a bunch of fireman. Oh yes, and the time I farted at boot camp.
So I suppose I’ve got nothing left to hide.
Here it is then. The letter I wrote almost a year ago, as I was going out of my mind with boredom waiting for Frog to hurry up and be born. I really should have started this blog much sooner.
16th June 2010
I am sitting here in our little garden in Berkshire as I write this to you, my first letter to my first son or daughter.
Daddy and I are so excited to meet you. Our main topic of conversation at the moment is to wonder if you’re a girl or boy. And what do you look like, little bean?
So far, you are one day late. You were due to arrive into the world yesterday, on 15th June 2010.
Daddy came home from work at lunchtime to take me to the midwife appointment. I’m now too fat to fit behind the steering wheel of my tiny car so I have to rely on him for lifts. He doesn’t like it. I think on this occasion he was quite pleased, though, because it meant he got the rest of the afternoon off work and was able to watch the World Cup on TV.
The midwife listened to your heartbeat and said you’re very happy in there (which I think is part of the problem) and has arranged to come and see me next week if nothing’s happened by then.
Yesterday was a very important day for your Aunty L. She had her final practical medical exam. She’s finding out her results tonight and is very nervous. Your Grandad is beside himself with worry over his two girls. He told me earlier we’re very selfish because “we’ve chosen exactly the same time to go through the biggest things in our lives and stress out our poor old dad”. He’s a bit of a drama queen, just like me.
Grandad rings me every morning to distract me from waiting for you to arrive. Grandma’s busy at work and is pleased not to have to think about it all I think. They were both here at the cottage a couple of weeks ago to help make the garden pretty and to look after me. The lawn is now sorted out (not that you’ll notice) so hopefully we can have picnics in the garden when you’re born.
I keep trying to find little jobs to do around the house while I impatiently wait for you to arrive. Your room’s all ready and Granny from the North showed me how to knit a blanket, which I finished on Monday. She said you wouldn’t arrive until it was done, so I knitted as fast as I could. But you’re still not here.
You have a beautiful moses basket to sleep in. You’ll be in our room at first, but you should know that Daddy snores. We’ll see how that goes.
When you’re a bit bigger you’ll go into a crib in your own room and then a big cot that Granny and Grandad from the North bought you.
You’re already very spoiled and have beautiful homemade curtains Grandma F has made. Plus you have a new chest of drawers already stuffed full of new clothes. They’re all white and yellow so far, because we don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl yet.
You’re already famous. You were on the radio the other day after my friends at work rang to ask how I was getting on. I said I felt like an angry hippo and they joked it was probably like waiting for a sofa to be delivered from DFS. They have no idea.
Anyway, I’m going to go back indoors now and find another little job to do. I’m nervous for your Aunty L and really hope she’s passed her exams.
Please please please please arrive soon my little baby. We’re so bored of waiting for you now. There are so many people who want to meet you. Then we can have a big celebration. And I can drink champagne.
Your very impatient Mum xxx
This letter made not a jot of difference. Frog clearly wasn’t listening and remained holed up inside me for another eleven days. Oh, and my sister passed those exams. She really is rather clever.