She made me hate porridge for a while. For all of 9 months – a small price to pay.
Way back when my hair was a crowning glory.
I didn’t do it on purpose she laughed wanting me to tell her
again how I felt when I found out she was on her way. Delighted, over the moon, awestruck,
petrified.
When she arrived on a bright May morning, she was a little
thing, all bunched up.
Exquisite.
First born.
Later, feet stamping with temper, heart softer than a feather
pillow, she scalded her spirit trying to fill the expectations lurking in her
head.
They’re driving me mad she’d cry, tears dripping down her
cheeks, wrapping her arms around her brothers and sister, I don’t mean that
really, I love them, I just want them to be good and listen. Lying in bed, reading stories, making their
hair stand on end with dark whispers of wicked witches and smelly, dark
dungeons, laughing hilariously at the antics of the Twits and Dr. Seuss.
Little people crawling into her bed in the middle of the
night to feel the warmth of her heart.
She grew and grew.
Way too fast.
Galloping out of the nest with barely contained optimism.
Good job we did there.
Clapping on the back.
Small happiness edging out the heaviness inside.
Fly away Peter, fly away Paul.
Confident, capable, world is your oyster we said.
Don’t much care for fish, she said settling down to grow a
family.
Trying, trying, trying.
Disappointment lingering at the turn of each calendar page,
shrivelling the tiny people dreams.
Clinics, drugs, hope, test kits, devastation.
Tears dripping down her cheeks.
I just want a baby.
The cold sea separating us.
The distance too far to reach for her small hand and kiss it
all better.
24th August 2016 Louise Erin arrived into the
heart of my baby.
Into all of our hearts.
I am so very happy with God.
