5ive.

Five years ago today…

I went on early maternity leave.

On the first day, I packed my hospital bag, went and saw my dad and attended my last antenatal class.

I spent this first day with my dad, sitting on his hospital bed, talking about the idea that I had reached that point of no return. “You can’t put it back, you know haha”.

Cam’s dad and I moved homes over the next week, and returned to the place I felt I truly became myself in. The flat that would, one day, become the Shath.

When I got home that day, I made some calls, thought of the possibilities unfolding, wondered about the little person growing within me and…

That evening, as Cam’s dad and I sat on the lounge floor assembling sidetables (how very random…), Cam kicked and you could clearly see her foot on the side of my belly.

He looked at it in a mixture of fear and awe. I wondered if he realised I’d seen it happen almost every day.

How funny. Five years ago, I’d still never believed how lucky I am today.

How blessed I am. How every day is a princess party in our home.

That night, I had the dream that’s carried me through every day that seems hard as a mom. And, in particular, as a single mom. When I have felt my most alone in this, this dream has kept me going.

In my dream, I was dancing with my baby, in front  of a mirror. In my dream, somehow, she told me she loved this dancing in front of the mirror. That it was special and for us alone. She told me that it would be okay, we’d have each other. So long as we kept dancing.

When I woke up the next day, I felt none of the panic I’d felt when I found out I was pregnant, and the stress of so many things that happened after then.

I never felt that panic again. I feel different panic nowadays. I worry about other things. I never wonder if perhaps she chose the wrong mother. I just sometimes doubt myself. I think that’s normal for any parent.

I wonder now how the time’s gone so fast. Sometimes I still have to catch myself, and remind my sometimes very tired brain that she’s not a baby anymore, she’s a growing, wonderful girl. Let’s face facts though, she’s always going to be my precious bundle of little person with extraordinarily long legs that she definitely inherited from her father’s side of the family…

Five years later, and my daughter tells me this morning, so eloquently, that as long as she has me, she’s happy.

She does this whilst dancing in front of my mirror, and I am brushing her hair, as we get ready for school and work.

She reminds me that, in one month, she will be five. She rattles off her wishlist for the Birthday Fairies, and I pinkie-promise her that I’ll pass it on…

“High five, mom, High five. I love you”