Dear Baby Number Two.

Hey. How are you? We don't talk much these days. I want us to stay in touch more. Let each other know how we are. We used to talk. You and I. That was a while back though. Life caught up with us since then.

I know that I'm mostly at fault here. I accept that. I can be a little selfish really. I should have started a conversation with you. Sat down and tried a little bonding. But the washing needed to be done, and Annie had another dirty nappy. It sometimes steals moments from us. This life we lead.

So what's new? I hear you have fingernails. That must work out well if you need to pick your nose. My calculations tell me you can hear us all. Ben, Annie and Miss Maggie. Quiet the madhouse huh? Did I mention we have a vacancy?

So listen, I've been thinking. It's not long before your plane lands and we have to go and pick you up from the airport. Can't believe we will see each other after all this time. I hope there's no weirdness. Anyway, so we're picking you up right? I hear the traffic down that way can be a real bitch. I hope I don't lose my shit.

You'll know who I am pretty instantly I would think. I'll be the brunette holding the epidural bag like it was the arse of Hamish Blake. I might look a bit disshelved, but fear not, I've got it together (most of the time) and actually, I'm pretty fun to hang out with. The guy with the beard and the huge grin is your father. He's a lovely specimen. Very thoughtful an very very funny. I rolled over in bed the other morning and let out a big one. He promptly replied 'Has anyone ever told you not to point a loaded weapon at someone?'. Please note: he will love you instantly. (as will I)

The mini me sitting on Dada's lap is Annie. She's your sister. She's a pretty laid back chickie. She won't fuss over you too much, but don't take it personally. She will think your the bees knees by the time you can clap to The Wiggles. Oh, and if she looks a little drunk, it's only because walking is a new pass-time for her.

When we get you home you'll notice a brown blur walking around who smells like wet socks. That's Maggie. The dog. I'm afraid she's severely pissed off you're coming. We broke the news to her the other day and she took her ball outside and hide under the outdoor table for hours. Ben had to coax her out with a piece of steak. Maggie has already been demoted from 'half dog/half human' to just 'dog with human traits' and now you're on your way, she knows all that's left is mere 'dog'. It's a bitter pill to swallow.

In case I don't get around to saying it (which is looking more and more likely) I love you ardently. You squirm around in there occasionally and my heart melts trying to imagine what you're going to look like in a Bonds Wondersuit. I wonder whether my heart is big enough to take anymore love. I love your Dada so much, and Miss Annie like I never thought possible. I know there is more for you though. It's already begun.

Righto, better go and get back to the massive list of things we need to get done before we meet. Picking your name is up there next to 'put door handles on doors'. Don't worry, we won't do what we did with Annie and decide your name over a tray of fish and chips in the TV room of the hospital.

Til we meet my sweet one,
Mumma
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