When I was a teenager, I was standing in the supermarket at Turramurra shops when I had my first real maternal encounter. Two little boys, in identical navy cable knit jumpers, with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes. Their older sister, tall and blonde like her Mumma. They stopped me dead in my tracks and I thought to myself “That’s what I want in life. My own gang. My own family.”
I was 19 when I wished for your Daddy. I wrote out a list of things I wanted in a man (The Secret was HUGE back then). He had to be tall, with big hands, a great smile with a loud laugh, creative, brown hair, brown or green eyes, a sense of humor and kindness. I craved stability. I craved what I had seen all those years ago.
I was 21 when I found him and like all cheesy romance novels, I knew. I can’t tell you why I knew but I saw a life with him. A house, the dogs, the children, the love. When I was moving in with him, I found that long forgotten wish list, and there was your Daddy, in 25 points or less. Down to some specifics that I cannot recall anymore, but needless to say, I was shocked.
After we got married, I wrote another list, about my children. What they would be like.
Your sister was to be tall, with blue eyes and golden hair, into horses, loved by all, fearless and funny. Everything I wasn’t.
You and your brother were to be tall like your daddy, with brown hair and bright eyes, you would love books but also a run around the footy field.
The list is long gone, I ripped it up knowing how stupid it was to have a vision of something you cannot control.
The thing is, your Daddy and I have been blessed with three children, but we lost one of you in November 2010. When it was decided we were not ready for the privilege of parenthood. That as earth shattering as it was, we needed to grow up and be better people. I only made the connection the other night, that what I wanted most, I have gotten. But it doesn’t mean it all comes as I thought it would.
When your sister came, she made us believe in divine intervention.
I knew the second she was conceived. The minute your Daddy said her name, at 18 weeks, I said ‘Yes. That’s her name’. We didn’t know she was a girl but I knew our Olivia Vivienne was coming. I talked to her the whole pregnancy, we had an understanding of how she was to come into this world and when she came, she was supposed to be here. I had met her before, we had been this family before.
She is tall, with golden hair and eyes that change colour with the weather, she loves horses, fights with your Daddy and makes me laugh every day.
Then last year, we found out you were coming.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. From the get go, you have had me on my toes. My brain is marinating in hormones, I am sick to my toes, I cry all the time and that’s when I knew. I knew in my bones, that you were coming.
That after 17 years in a cosmic waiting room, my son was coming because I finally deserved him. Because when we lost your Great Uncle Peter last year, I said to your Daddy, ‘Our son, he is coming. The universe will send another boy.” The fact that you are due 4 days before Peter’s birthday, makes my hair stand on end.
When we saw you on the screen a couple of weeks ago, I was shocked but not at the same time. It confirmed what I already knew. After two weeks of waiting on tests that ultimately failed, I knew from your ultrasound that we had nothing to worry about.
I cannot put into words how I feel about you. It is too hard for me to process. You are my last child, my last pregnancy, the last time I will feel those kicks. We are connected and bonded in a way that when I close my eyes, I can already feel you laying on my chest.
Just like your sister, you are meant to be here with us.