This time 12 months ago, I - the size of a forklift, and probably weighing about the same - was a focused woman. I knew "it" was close. Mere weeks away. And I was ready. Physically, at least. There was a room with a cot in it waiting for a little human being to arrive. But mentally, I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. I already HAD a baby, didn't I? Was there enough room in my already-at-capacity heart to include another? To be honest, I wasn't sure...
Here's what I wrote, this time last year:
Seeing as it's Friday, I thought I'd treat you all to this little look at my 'bump'. I'll be 36 weeks pregnant tomorrow... Fern thinks it's hilarious and keeps "ticka ticka ticka" (ie. tickling) my belly at every opportunity. Who knows what an 18-month old baby truly understands, but I know mine has noticed my growing bump and is fascinated by it. If I ask her what's in there, she points to her own tummy and says "bubby!"
Poor Fern. She's in for a real shock, and in just a matter of weeks. And so am I, for that matter. At the moment, she is my very best friend and the centre of my universe. Its hard even for me to imagine it any other way. But the cozy world as we know it is about to be rocked upside down... so for now we're enjoying the last precious moments together, my daughter and I, just the two of us...
It seems sort of funny now, reading back on that. To think that at that point, my life was already complete. But of course what I didn't realise was that at the same instant my little son was born, my life was complete AGAIN. That my heart just expanded to replace the deflated tummy as though there had always been room for two.
And now of course, I can barely remember it being just Fern and I. Because now it's Fern and Elliott and I. The Three Muskateers.
Next month we'll be celebrating my Elli-Boo's first birthday. And what a celebration it will be... for him and for us. Can't wait.