A letter from a very fat woman to a very tiny person

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

Dear Baby,

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.

Love from,
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.

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17 Comments

Filed under Pregnancy

17 responses to “A letter from a very fat woman to a very tiny person

  1. Catherine Ross

    Lovely post. Bet she’ll be glad of it in time.

    X

    • I have the letter (written in long hand, I’m so last century) kept in a scrap book I’m making for her. I remember when I was huge and pregnant I kept nagging my mum asking what she was thinking and feeling when she was waiting for me to arrive. I have a terrible memory so thought I better write it all down. x

  2. Awesome as always. I do hope you win at the mads x

  3. That’s such a lovely thing to have – a little moment of history to remember. It reminds me of the letters I write every year in a special book to my daughter on her birthday – a lovely way to remember her through the years and for her to look back on when she’s older.

  4. mummymummymum

    How lovely. I think I might have to start writing letters. xx

  5. Caroline

    And wasn’t she worth waiting for!?

  6. Like waiting for a sofa to arrive?! This angry hippo would probably bite the head off anyone who suggested such a thing. Lovely letter and wonderful that you’re scrapbooking it for her. x

    • It was bloody awful – and the hottest couple of the weeks of the year. Not like waiting for a sofa to arrive at all. I hope no one makes the same analogy with you – for their sake! x

      • granny from the north

        I can do better…waiting for a rather large sofa to arrive is a lot worse! My new sofa was just too fat…it refused to go in the lounge despite the patience of two removal men who couldnt believe I’d not commissioned an access visit! They took it back…If only I’d known this…and who gives an access visit to expectant mums? Certainly not mother nature!

  7. Such a great idea I so wish I had done something like that, but unfortunately my boys are 10 and 13 so definitely not giving it another go!!!!! 🙂

  8. granny from the north

    This is a girl that knows her own mind…mmm… who does that sound like?…actually like both mummy and daddy which is why you are so perfect together! I am now babysitting the little frog who is holed up in her travel cot and guess what…sleeping like a baby or is it a frog! xx

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