The Pot of Gold

BD. I realise I’ve been remiss. There’s always so much chatter around your big brother, and from your big sister, that I realise I haven’t truly marked in the sand what utter, unbridled joy you are bringing into our lives. So here it is, my first piece of writing about you that doesn’t involve a story about how I pushed you out and turned the air blue.

It’s fair to say during my pregnancy with you, so soon after losing RD, I was wound so tight with anxiety it felt like I breathed constantly in short, shallow breaths. You did also squash my rib cage quite a lot. Looking back, you could have scraped me off the ceiling with a spatula.

As soon as you were here, in our arms, I could feel the gentle uncoiling of all of this. It’s been emotional, baby, but for all the right reasons.

You are a good baby. I find myself fighting with saying that, but since having you, I understand what people are getting at. You quietly thrive, whilst being as portable as a handbag. You peek over the edge of slings or from under the hood of your pushchair wide eyed and angelic. Your demands seem gloriously simple, and you have such a gentle, curious nature.

We call you the potato. Not just because you are bald and massive. Okay, okay, quite a lot because of that. But also because you always cheer us up, a big carb loaded cuddle.

For the first time I’ve really let my mothering anxieties go. I’m not a perfect Mum, but I’m perfectly happy with the Mum I am. I’ve learned that you can only do so much, the rest of it is just riding the highs and lows of every stage. You know when people say “it’s okay, nobody died/I kept everyone alive”? I feel like understanding that sentiment a little deeper gives me a renewed confidence.

(Although I still check on you ALL THE TIME. Watch you gently blow out through pursed rosebud lips almost silently)

I take in every detail of you, astounded that we made the wrinkles on the back of your knuckles. Your bright, dazzling irises. Your perfect little wotsit toes. A true appreciation of the miracle of reproduction.

You start conversation. You’ve brought family together after a time where it felt like getting back up after so much loss was futile. You give us all fresh hope and consolation, just as your name means. Child of consolation. 

You have eyes just like your brother. You have a mouth and smile so full of joy like your sister. You are also completely yourself and I marvel that we have had anything to do with your creation. Also, because we really can’t remember that…

Thankyou for making DD a sister again. She may not thank us right now, and struggle with feelings of jealousy but the way your eyes dance when she walks in the room, when you search her out to give her your best, gummiest smile, is priceless. She doesn’t need to try and understand the way you love her, it beams from you.

BD, you came to being at a time when I didn’t know if anything could be truly good again. Angry at life, and my body having failed us before. Now it feels like you were always going to be here, but this sense that you will decide every single move defines your life already.

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