10th April 2018

After you arrived, everything changed…

Dear Stanley – on the eve of your 6th birthday…

Before you arrived, life was different.

It was busy, but it was ordered.

It was simple, but it was full.

I lived for booking far-flung adventures, going on romantic dinner dates, and drinking really good cups of coffee at the weekend with a magazine in my hands.

I dreamt of career promotions, and white weddings, and one day, so distant in the future that it seemed hazy and surreal, of perhaps having babies of my own.

But back then, I wore clothes that I knew wouldn’t get covered in muck by grubby mitts and open-mouthed kisses within two minutes of getting dressed.

I wore shoes that I knew I could walk in – not having to consider suddenly breaking into a panicked run to chase you or carrying you for the entire walk as you point blank refused to sit in your buggy.

And I ate the food that I wanted to eat, not giving two hoots whether I was getting my five-a-day or drinking far too many glasses of cheap white wine as I rolled out of the office and into a bar with friends.

Before you arrived, life was different.

I was happy – and to be honest, I didn’t know that anything was missing.

But it turned out that it was.

Because one April afternoon, six years ago to the day tomorrow, you changed everything forever.

A little boy, like I’d always dreamt.

And as I stared into your deep blue eyes as you were placed on my chest, in that very instant, my life spun into a completely new course.

Life wasn’t so ordered anymore – but it was still busy.

Life wasn’t so simple anymore – but it was fuller than ever.

I still dreamt of far-flung adventures – but first, I needed to check there was travel cots, and high-chairs, and food on the menu that you’d actually eat.

I still lived for romantic dates – but they happened so rarely, I would delve into my handbag for a lipstick and discover spare dummies, and odd socks, and tiny toy cars instead.

I still adored cups of good coffee, but it wasn’t just for the taste anymore. It was for the caffeine – and the stronger, the better.

I had changed.

I still considered myself strong – but I was softer round the edges. My eyes welled up at emotional songs and films – and I full-on lost control of those tears the first time I saw you perform in a nursery show.

And as hard as it was to even imagine a life without you in it again, the thought occasionally crossed my mind and paralysed me for a moment – so terrified of losing you that I couldn’t function, or speak, or move until I forced it out of my mind again.

After you arrived, I was painfully aware of my flaws. My lack of patience, my vulnerabilities, and my inability to remain strong in the path of a stubborn toddler with pleading eyes.

But I realised my strengths too. Not only physically (because who can truly feel weak when they have grown and birthed a small human), but emotionally. To get through those hard weeks at the beginning, to learn to become a mother away from nearly everyone I knew and loved, and to get to the end of one of the hardest days and realise that we had survived.

After you arrived, everything changed.

Everything.

And six years on, I find it hard to remember what life was like without you in it

You were my first baby.

The little boy that made me a mother.

You changed me, challenged me, softened me, strengthened me, and taught me to love in a way I didn’t even know was possible.

And as you celebrate tomorrow, with those same deep blue eyes sparkling with excitement and happiness, I will take myself back to our first moments together.

Quietly remembering the first time that we met.

When everything changed.

Everything.

And I will smile.

Love from Mummy x