I saw the hormones of your creation magic up a pink line in a white space. I watched your heart beat on a screen. I listened as the midwife found your steady rhythm, faster than mine, with tears of relief rolling from my eyes. And now I feel your tiny body inside my body, your limbs pushing against my organs. Surprising me and delighting me when I feel you unexpectedly. And each of these steps brings me closer to you. Hope growing in me, that perhaps this time the tiny form inside of me will take a breath, cry out loudly with strong lungs and search out my milk with a hungry mouth.
I think of your face. Will you look like your two brothers? Only one of whom exists in our physical family. The other – a spiritual presence, a name, a moment in time, an ever shifting balance between love and pain, a loss with a never ending place in our hearts and in our family.
I watch the news and I stroke my growing belly and I apologise to you, wriggling inside me, and your big brother, snoring contentedly in his bed. My desire for a family of four appearing greedy and selfish in light of the pain and intensity in the stories I see covered. A climate emergency, a world in lockdown due to COVID-19, an underfunded and undervalued NHS and care sector, police brutality in the US exposing unacceptable racism, a Westminster government making questionably self-serving choices. What kind of world am I bringing you both into? What challenges will you face? What atrocities will you witness in your lifetime? Will you experience anger and disgust as I do, when faced with stories of betrayal and dishonesty, discrimination and violence, greed and abuse? Does the future bring increasingly worse versions of these particular narratives?
But despite all of this uncertainty, my selfish desire persists...I want you. I lie in bed at night and I make silent, earnest promises to you both. I will do my best to be the best mummy I can be. I will listen to you when you have something to say. I will respect you in your decisions, even when I don't agree with them. I will find a truthful but appropriate way to tell you about the world – good and bad, pain and shame. I will teach you love and kindness and respect for yourself and others. I will teach you to shout and to use your voice as a catalyst for change. I will learn from you as much as I try to teach you. I will make sure you know there is always a home for you in my heart, wherever that may be. I will love you both, differently, because you will be different to one another. But I will love you both unconditionally. And I will let that love change me, swell me, make me a better person.
I will believe in you both. I will believe that you can change the world. My two beautiful rainbow babies, I will believe in all that you represent – that after the rain comes the sun; that after the pain comes love; that after experiencing bad times, the good times seem even more beautiful; that the world is a more beautiful place because we have so many different colours. I believe that you, my wonderful boys, can bring love and kindness in all you do. I will believe that you can show that behind every singular act of violence there are many more acts of love. Maybe you will change the world or maybe you will change your small corner of the world. But know that whatever you do, your existence will forever change my world. You will find me glowing and grateful in experiencing the love and joy of watching your futures unfold. And I will be forever changed, forever a better person for being your mummy.