Your story started on a warm September day, a week after my due date. Just like your brothers, you were far too comfy to make your entrance on your own accord – but 15 hours after Daddy and I had walked through the hospital doors, you were screaming loudly in my arms.
I remember staring down at you on that hospital bed, taking in every inch of you. Here was the little girl I’d been trying to imagine all that time. Your button nose, chubby cheeks, and red bow lips. Your dark hair, dark eyelashes, and milky white skin. Not exactly how I’d imagined you – but so very perfect.
I lapped up those first few days in hospital. Just the two of us, quietly bonding in our room. Your brothers visited a few times and stared down at you with smiling eyes, barely able to fathom that they’d got the sister we promised.
We went home when you were two days old – but not before we had to swing by school to collect your eldest brother. And so began the life of a third child; always having to fit around your siblings, not even getting the honour of going home for the first time without your brother piling into the car seat next to you and talking nonsense the whole way home.
I knew that you were more than likely to be my last baby – and I didn’t want to rush it. So those first few weeks together were lazy. With Granny and Grandad there to help with your brothers, we spent a lot of time in bed. Feeding, cuddling, and sleeping – and then doing it all over again. I knew only too well how quickly it would pass. You’d wake up from your sleepiness, uncurl, and start to focus – and it’d happen in the blink of an eye. And when it happened – and of course it happened – I was ready.
I was ready to find out exactly who you were.
You were such a quiet little baby, watching the craziness of two older brothers around you with inquisitive eyes. You slept like a dream, rarely cried, and fed well. Everywhere we went, you came along too, without a single complaint.
I loved our family as a foursome – and when I was pregnant, I worried it was all going to change. And it did Mabel, but only for the better. You fit into our family so perfectly and neatly that we could hardly remember a time when you weren’t with us. We never even knew you were missing, but it all made sense as soon as you were here. Our final puzzle piece, the final pea in the pod. You were always meant to come along and complete us.
Yes, you were a quiet baby – but you eventually found your voice. And my goodness Mabel, you made sure that we heard it. You have become a gregarious, cheeky, determined little girl. Still so much calmer than your brothers ever were, rarely venturing too far from my feet, but intent on making your own mark. Intent on being your own person, with your own personality and your own demands, and not just the little sister!
Your determined little character saw you say your first words at 10 months and walk at 11 months. You are always in the shadow of your brothers, laughing with them, playing with them, and following them. Seeing your relationship and bond grow with them is one of the best feelings in the world.
A little girl born in Dubai, but now growing up in the English countryside – so much change in your life, but you couldn’t care less as long as you are with your family. Our cheerful, smiling, sweet, cuddly, gregarious, funny little girl with dimpled cheeks, big blue eyes, and strawberry blonde curls.
A year later, this September day isn’t nearly as warm – but we feel just as lucky to have you in our lives.
Happy birthday little girl.
We really do adore you.
Love from Mummy x