The bath.

So I did not imagine that during the first bath for 4 months (pre baby) I would be mentally jotting notes in my brain about a blog post.

But I felt overwhelmed with emotion.

Through the glorious steamy scent of Neom Organics that a pal had kindly bought for me, I looked down at my body in the water and all I could think of was that the last time I’d been here in this room, in this tub I was looking down at a wonky huge bump. Wonky because baby always favoured one side.

I’d look down at it as it would move. Baby hiccuping and kicking me from within. I’d remember feeling amazing and apprehensive in equal measure. Stay safe in there bubba, not long now.

I’d talk to her. I’d wonder what she could hear. I believed that she liked it when mummy had a bath. 

Sometimes I’d roll my hefty load over on to my side in the water and once or twice I drifted in and out of sleep.

I’d be a bit grossed out by the fact I couldn’t see my bits and by the weird dark pigmented line running from my belly button to lord knows where down there.

And then this evening, I got a wave of just weirdness as just hours ago I was bathing my actual human baby in the room next door. 





A year ago I wasn’t pregnant. We were about to embark on our final IVF embryo transfer. Heading into the unknown yet again, full of hope. Desperate hope, but hope all the same.

A year ago I was summoning all the strength I had in me to go through IVF again even though the attempt before had ended so sadly. See here.

I’m not sure of the point of this post other than to say that life can change so quickly even if you can’t see the wood for the trees. Sometimes for the better and of course sometimes for the worse. It can jolt you in ways you’ve never experienced before. But all I can articulate right now is that right here in this moment (which is all that exists anyway right?) I am so grateful for my lot. In all ways. And that hope is the key.

Please don’t ever lose it.



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