I read my Pregnancy Blog this morning, which I wrote when I was nineteen and expecting my daughter Millie as a single parent. It actually made me cry reading what I had wrote so long ago. And as I looked back over the pictures of my pregnancy with Millie and the hope and uncertainty that I was feeling, it took me back to those days, like smelling a perfume and being reminded of somebody you love, it took me back to my childhood almost.
I was actually a little amazed at how hopeful and determined I was as a teenager, and even though I’m the same person inside I see how I have grown and changed and how life chips away at your hopes and dreams bit by bit, bringing you into the harsh light of day and realising the world isn’t always as beautiful and amazing as it seems through a teenagers eyes. It’s a shame because I wish I could see the world through those eyes again, waking up in the morning and believing there was nothing that I couldn’t do. I realise how much more realistic I am now, how structured my life has become and how my decision-making is based around my family and not myself. It’s like having a review of your life, and parts are good and parts are missed.
It hurt me more than I thought it would to read about Millie’s father. Reading about the times he said he would be there, for hospital appointments, classes and the birth… all of which he missed, but all of which I still gave him the benefit of the doubt for. I wish I could float back in time and give myself a hug when I was scared and alone, because those thoughts were almost forgotten until now. And the tears I used to cry dried many years ago now. But I wish I could have been there for the teenage me, like I’m here for Millie now, to dry away the tears, to cuddle so tight you forget the world around, and to make sure she knows that I will never let anything or anyone ever hurt her like that.
Four years on Millie’s father never has or ever did do anything for her, which has only strengthened my devotion to her. I truly wish he could have understood everything about our sweet child, how precious she is, and how everyday away from her is a day you can never get back. But in a way, in a different life I guess it is the best outcome for a child to believe their father loves them rather than see the real truth, the lies, the disrespect and the selfishness. I would rather Millie sleep peacefully at night thinking her father is a wonderful man than break her heart right now.
I have let go of the frustration and sorrow that I felt for his absence, not for him but for Millie. Not about him but about who he wasn’t, isn’t and never will be to us. A part of me wishes I never met him, but without him I never would have had my beautiful daughter. She will have to learn a very hard and painful lesson one day, when this beautiful little four year old grows into a young lady and realises that a part of her life is unexplained. I know that she already has an idea about it, because the other day I asked her if she was ok and she said she was missing her bunny rabbit that died last year. I asked her if she missed anybody else and she said, “No, not even my daddy, because he doesn’t miss me.” He never saw her on her fourth birthday, not for months before or after, no card, no call, nothing. She sat waiting for him in her bedroom when he said he was on his way over as he lives just ten minutes away. She was almost bursting with excitement waiting with her favourite party dress on for the special occassion, watching out of the window for every car that passed… for everybody that wasn’t him. And it was the hardest thing to ask her to take her dress off and put on her pyjamas when it got dark outside, because she didn’t move from her window all afternoon. And when she cried because she knew he wouldn’t be coming it broke my heart, because I couldn’t take her pain away. I wanted her to stay in her pretty dress forever, and to hold onto the excitement of something that meant so much to her and put such a smile on her face. But I was the one who had to talk her down from her watching place, and to take the dress off of her as she hung her head and cried. I had to stop the tears but I was the one who had to deliver the news that would start them. I hope one day she’ll realise shes worth so much more than how hes treated her, and it isn’t a loss in life to never see a father like that.
And it also makes me thankful for all of the kind hearted, amazing, incredible and selfless men out there who love their children more than anything. And for the men who are there to hold the hands of others, for the children whose fathers are not around, they are there to raise them with love and respect as if they were their own. And that’s why I know that Luca will be such a fantastic daddy to our baby, to our second child. Because he’s always been there for Millie, since we met when she was such a tiny bundle of love, and I’m thankful that she’s never known any different than us being together and so happy.
And our house at the moment is all twinkly decorated for Christmas, with our stockings over the fire and gingerbread men hanging up the stairs, one for each of us, with hearts and love and warmth. And next year there will be four and I can’t wait. I can’t wait to see Luca’s face when he holds our baby for the first time, to see the love in his eyes that only I got to feel when Millie was born. It seems like all of my dreams have come true to have somebody to share this all with, this special gift. And before school this morning Millie hugged me and told me how she loved me and the baby to the moon and back, and I told her that the baby is so excited to meet their big sister and she had the lovliest smile on her face.
As I’m writing this I’ve had a couple of twinges, like flutterings in my tummy from the baby. I’ve noticed it for almost a week now; it’s not very often and only ever once or twice a day for a split second at a time. But yesterday I had my hand on my bump as I sat down and I felt a fluttering inside and it was lovely to feel it with my hand at the same time. I can’t wait for Millie and Luca to feel it, it’s one of the most magical feelings in the world. x x x x x