Today I’m writing on Segullah about love-in-waiting. It’s an overly-confessional type piece about the work I did during the oddest first trimester I ever had. I’m feeling a lot better now. But here’s something of a continuation.
We are expanding in every direction. And we’re trying our best to make room, but in some ways it’s a bit cramped around here. I am still forcing my trouser buttons together, for a start (H&M SKINNIES TILL DEATH). And it looks like we may be staying put in our tiny flat for longer than anticipated, which later this year will make us three adults, two children and a partridge in a pear tree.
Last night it sucked a bit, but this morning I woke up and remembered, again, that I will expand myself until there’s room to love all of us. All of it: our squashy little life, this baby I don’t yet know, and our interrupted nights and chaotic days to come. I had to make space for Henry in all sorts of ways, and I’ve never regretted the difference.
‘I have just poured heart and soul into him’, I told Timothy the other evening. ‘I couldn’t help it’.
‘I know’, he said. ‘You can do it again’.
And so, yesterday, we put up the mobile we bought for Baby Jeffcoat Deux. They’re made by the wonderful and ever-so-talented Alison behind The Alison Show – who is fabulous in many more ways than this one – and I coveted them desperately before Henry was born, but we had too many essentials to buy. This second baby will end up inheriting a lot of the things we already have, especially if it’s a boy, but I wanted to mark its place with something especially its own.
It reminds me, every time I go into the nursery, that we’re making room.