Dear Little Daisy, It’s been a while since I wrote to you. I mean, this blog is called Dear Little Daisy for a reason. Right now, you’re about to embark on a journey into Nursery. I won’t lie – I’m a little nervous. You’re a strong little girl and very set in your ways, even at three you know what you want and you won’t quit until you’ve got it. I’ve never known or met anyone at determined as you. You are hard work right now and today was just one of many days where I struggled to be your mum. In a way I thank you though, because you’re teaching me not to worry about what other people think. You’re teaching me to stick to my guns and do the right thing by you. Three year olds are hard work – one day when you have a child of your own, you’ll see what I mean. I spent a few hours this evening looking back at old letters to you. Here’s some snippets of my favourites –
November 17th at 21.08pm
It’s autumn outside of your little world inside my tummy. it’s autumn and this time next year you’ll be here to see the falling leaves dancing patterns of warm auburn colours. It’s getting chilly though, and I’m not one for the cold. I wrap up warm and I hold my tiny little bump protecting you from invisible dangers. I’m feeling slightly protective already. And when I have a bad day and feel as though the world is against me, I curl up in bed and remember you’re little beating heart and your tiny moving hands. I remember that right now you’re the size of a sweet potato and in just a weeks time you’ll grow to be the size of a mango. I remember that one day I’ll meet you and we’ll share an unconditional love. I remember these things and suddenly the world isn’t so bad anymore.
January 12th 2014
and i can’t dance, but under the nights sky I can teach you how to appreciate the moon and the stars and the galaxy far away. And we’ll dance together anyways. I can’t sing but I’ll sing you a thousand lullabys until you rock slowly off to sleep. And I can’t cook but i’m growing you in my stomach and when you’re ready to come meet us we’ll name that day the best of our lives. I can braid your hair with silly little flowers and I can read you stories every night. I can take you for walks on a warm sunny afternoon and build you snowmen in the freezing winter blues. I can give every tiny little piece of my heart to you and rest assured that I can trust you with it from the moment you are born. I love you now and I loved you before I knew you. I love you now and I will love you forever and always.
February 9th, 2014
The family all came round tonight and we watched old film negatives through the projector. Weekends are my favourite, and may be yours one day too. It’s the time we spend as a family. And there’s nothing more important than family. Your arrival into the world feels just around the corner, but it’s as if you’re here already. You’re movements are stronger and your toys and clothes are washed and ready awaiting. Sometimes I’ll sit down and try write down how much I already love you. But it’s impossible. No amount of words jumbled together could ever explain what you already mean to me.
It’s funny looking back and reading old letters to you. It’s funny looking at old photos and contemplating how you were once small enough to fit in my stomach. It’s funny looking at the bunny we bought you and then looking at it now – we had no idea how much you’d cling to it. On days like today when you’ve driven me to the point of insanity, all it takes is a little breather and an evening of reminiscing and It all feels okay again. It’s a phase. I know it’s a phase – but that doesn’t make it any easier! Having children is hard and I had no idea how hard being a mum would be. But I also had no idea how much love it would bring to my life and how having a mini best friend has made my life better than I could have imagined.
Lots of love