I’ve been keeping this delightful secret close for a few months now.
On our final three days in Bali, three different Balinese women gestured to my belly and asked me about my baby. I laughed off their suggestions and told them that no, there was no baby. When the third woman shared the same perplexed look as the previous two, I had an inkling that perhaps they were right.
Two whole weeks passed before I got a positive pregnancy test which can only mean one thing: I crossed paths with three of the most intuitive women on the island.
I’m just coming out of the first trimester, I’m starting to catch glimpses of energy (so elusive these past few months) and now that I’m ready to share the news my belly has popped out too.
Yesterday Daniel and I watched our littlest love dance on the ultrasound screen and we marvelled at the feeling of joy and overwhelm and gratitude that filled the room. Regardless of how many children you have, the miracle of a baby growing in your belly never ceases to amaze.
We’ll welcome this baby in mid-winter (so very close to Poet’s birthday) and once again I’ll do everything in my power to ensure a two-week babymoon is realised; time in bed to rest and recover and establish a beautiful rhythm with baby. It’s what’s most important to me as a new mum and I know, from experience, that such sacred time heals me physically, mentally and emotionally in preparation for the intensity of the first year.
Of course, I’ve got so much more to say, (so much more to ask! – this is our closest age gap by over one year!) but for now it’s my bedtime.