The End

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Dear Emily (Six Months of You)

Dear Emily,

You're six months old today. No matter how many times I repeat that to myself, I can barely believe it: Just six short months ago I was meeting you for the first time, a face I'd longed to lay eyes on for what felt like a lifetime. Your lifetime.

Six months ago I carried you easily in one arm. You weighed 3 kilos and were barely as long as my forearm. Now you're quite a bit bigger, seemingly taller every day and nearing 8 kilos!

Back then, we slept with the lights on, scared to disturb your sacred sleep with the turning on and off of lights as you lay snuggled in the Moses basket beside our bed. Now you're in your big bed and in your own room, loving the space, arms stretched out as would your legs be, I know, if they weren't confined to your sleeping bag.

For weeks after you were born your Daddy felt like a taxi driver - I sat in the backseat with you. You hated the carseat and wailed whenever you were put into it. Slowly you adjusted (assisted by my realisation that it was the newborn head support that you hated!) and began to love car rides, only to come full circle - you currently don't fancy car rides again and this time, there's no headrest to remove! (But now I sit up front near Daddy.)


Back then we timed our outings to fit between your feeds. We aimed to avoid feeding you out of the house as much as possible as we weren't sure we'd remembered to take everything with us. Your Nappy Bag has now become streamlined to perfection. There's a backup for everything in there, it's hard to go wrong.

We know you like the colour lilac and things that light up. You're ticklish almost everywhere - but especially your neck! - and you're developing a brilliant sense of humour. You squish your nose up to smile, just like I sometimes do, and your eyebrows are always on the move, wiggling about, full of expression. Your beautiful grey eyes take in everything, your little fingers explore whatever they can grasp, tongue trying to taste anything that gets close enough. You gaze up at us in awe, hands reached out feeling our faces and stroking different textures: skin, hair, clothes. Then I nuzzle your neck and you giggle, eyes begging for more.

I will never stop being thankful for you, my happy-go-lucky, beautiful little bundle of joy. I could not have asked for more.

Mummy x



Dear Self,
Well done. You've survived six months.
Me

9 comments:

  1. :) love the little note to self at the end x

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  2. I'm crying Clare! What a beautiful post! You're doing such a great job...Emily is just precious. I wish I could have met her when you were over but the timing wasn't ideal. :-) I'm mostly amazed that she already has a favourite colour. Clever girl!

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  3. six months! wow, how time flies! she is just a doll, her eyes are so beautiful!

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  4. :)

    The little note at the end cracked me up!

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  5. Emily's going to love reading this when she's older :)

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