Skip to main content

A letter to my son on Mother’s Day


Dear Elijah,

Today is Mother’s Day, our third one spent together (fourth if you include when Dad brought me a present when you were still in my tummy).

The NICU days seem more distant now, and we seem to be on more of an even keel.

This one is also extra special because this is our last just me and you.

This time next year we will be celebrating Mother’s Day with your future brother or sister, as a family of four.

I have been thinking a lot recently about the last 2 and a half years. So much has changed.

You have come so far, and you are frankly amazing. Bloody annoying but amazing all the same.

We have spent this week on your first ever holiday and you were the happiest I have ever seen you.

We are on the brink of so much change, and I hope you will embrace it.

I want you to know it wasn’t because you were not enough, or not good enough because boy are you, and then some.

I hope you will know that I will love you just the same when your new sibling gets here, I could never love you any less.
I will love you, always. (Points if you get the Harry Potter reference.)

Being your mother made me, and that’s why I am so embarrassingly mushy about days like this.

The ups, the downs (there have been a lot) made me the mother I am today.

I didn’t think I could hack it as a heart/ NICU Mum, but you guided me.

I didn’t think I was a good mum, at times I didn’t know if I could even see it all through.

The lack of sleep, the reflux days, and all the times where you drove me up the wall and I counted the hours until your Dad was home.

Then there are all the firsts, watching you become the funniest little boy and seeing you with your friends. It makes it all worth it.

I never knew how much being your mother could mean to me, I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. (Well maybe you could be less stroppy but you are my son after all).

You make me laugh so much, even when you are repeating things you shouldn’t be.

You make my heart explode when you tell me I am your best friend.

We can fall out, like when you get angry that your trousers do not meet your socks and you refuse to leave the house until I have tucked them in.

Or when you demand you have not done a poo, when you smell worse than your Dad after too much cheese.

You surprise me on a daily basis, you are sweet, temperamental, sensitive, loving and frankly hilarious especially when you do your Mr Tumble impression or fart and blame your Dad.

You are a smart arse and I love it, you tell me milk comes from the fridge and that a pig makes the sound “PORK”.

I have never known such an honest kid, you even dob yourself in which makes me laugh no end.

I have my faults, as do you, I can shout too much, I don’t play enough and I really need to make you eat more veg.

You can be a bit of arse at times, and so irrational but I can see a mirror image of myself in you.

I wish I could protect you against the ugliness in this world, the hatred, the pointlessness but I will teach you love, I will teach you to be kind and to always have hope.

Forever I want to keep you close, but I will teach you strength.

But, today it is all about me and you and one I always want to remember.

Because, frankly kiddo me and you one of a kind, secret handshake and all.

I love you kiddo, but if you could sleep in a tad later I would appreciate it.

Love Mum x
Me and The Boy. Always.
 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Elijah, on your fourth heart day

Elijah the heart hero never letting anything stop him. Today  is your 4th heart day. It's 4 years since we took you down to Great Ormond Street for open heart surgery. It seems to have crept up on us again. Another whole year has passed but it hasn't changed how I feel about that day. Some have said that oh, by now surely you should have gotten over it after all it's been 4 years. The answer is I don't think I ever will. I have been thinking a lot about that day, where I signed the consent forms for them to take you and operate on you. To either save or take your life. That day was the worst of my life, the unknown certainty of whether you would come back up again. I held you as they put you to sleep. They gave me your dummy as they took you from me and laid you on the operating table as if you weighed nothing. I couldn't even kiss you goodbye in case it was the last time. That's why I won't ever get over it and those who have been in the

The time Fajita night resulted in having a baby in a bath.

The newest Cockerill Do you all remember my ever so optimistic natural birth plan? You can read it here. However, spoiler alert, it didn’t happen. What did happen was something no one was expecting. Wednesday the 5 th July… a mundane sort of day spent cleaning the house and doing the weekly shop. With Greg going back to work the next day I was determined to make sure everything was ready for when this baby arrived! I was three days off my due date and still hadn’t had one single sign this baby was imminently coming. I had been receiving messages from quite a few people asking if baby was here yet. I was getting fed up as everything I had tried to induce labour failed miserably and every morning for the last two weeks I woke up disappointed I wasn’t in labour! I gave up, walking didn’t help, pineapple made me sick and I was beginning to tire of the raspberry leaf tea. This baby was staying put. In the evening I put Elijah bed, and we began to settle down for the eveni

The one with Elijah's heart surgery.

We were back. April 22-28 2015, a year ago this weekend. In just two short weeks since we last went down to London. We had to go down the day before and check in and have another blood test. As all of the forms had been signed last time, we were out again within an hour or so. Back to the same family accommodation, in a different room and with a lot less luggage. Something felt different this time, although I didn't want to believe it was going ahead in the event it was cancelled again, deep down I knew it would be. The morning of the surgery I knew how I would feel as we had been through this all before. I didn't want to go out for a meal so we ate in the hotel room watching ch5 rubbish after Elijah went down in the travel cot. Its odd that through the whole pre admission, cancelled op and the actual operation I can remember what shit we watched on TV and what we ate for tea that night. One of those weird things that just sticks in your head. Sort of like when you rememb