So, it’s happened. There wasn’t a well-placed vigilante with a good aim or a last minute coupe. I’m not American, nor do I have ties to America, yet my grief and fear is strong.
Phil went back to work this morning after his two weeks of paternity leave and it’s safe to say that by last night I was feeling pretty nervous and emotional about my first day of solo parenting two under twos.
A newborn baby’s first week is an absolute whirlwind of discovery, experience and – let’s be honest – winging it. Even as a second time mummy, I feel like a first timer because Martha and Toby couldn’t possibly have been more different thus far. Here’s how we’ve been getting on.
I’ve had this feeling repeatedly over Toby’s 22 months on this earth and now it’s rearing it’s head again. The feeling of sadness and constantly asking “Why does my child reject me?”. As a loving parent, it hurts and as much as I spend most days trying not to take it personally, all I want to do is spend time with my gorgeous boy and have a deep and meaningful bond with him.
I wrote a letter to our unborn daughter a while back, followed by one to my husband Phil. The last letter I wrote to Toby was on the eve of his first birthday, so as we prepare to welcome his little sister into the world, I wanted to write to him again. Here’s my letter to my son.