When over-friendly workmates asked when we were having babies, I used to make a lot of jokes. Mostly along the lines of “If we had a baby, she’d have to sleep under my computer desk!”
So um, now that we’re pregnant, it doesn’t seem quite so funny. We live in a granny flat, which has been a lovely, cottagy, cosy love nest for two. There is room for three bicycles and unicycle (mostly Ryan’s), many many books (mostly mine) and a comprehensive collection of hiking and climbing gear (collective). Plus some belly dance props.
But no room for a baby.
When Jamie asked what I wished to make room for, there was only one answer. I can’t frame this well as a wish, so here’s what I’m telling my tummy:
We’ve found a lovely house for us to live in. It’s further away than we live now, but it will have everything we need to make a home – that’s you, and me, and Ryan. While you’re busy growing, we’ll be busy getting it ready for you.
Please help me wish for the time and the love and the things to make a home that hugs us all.