a letter to my son.
Dear F...
My darling boy, the first thing you need to know is that I love you. My love for you is a constantly evolving creature. It has made its home in my heart, but it travels through every part of my body finding new places to set down roots. Every night, I think to myself that it’s impossible for me to love you any more than I already do; that my body is so full of love for you that it simply can’t fit a shred more in. And every morning I wake up and realise that, just like you, it’s grown a little bit more in the dark.
A few hours after you were born, when the chaos of birth was over and our room was quiet and still, I began to drift off to sleep only to be interrupted by a wet, mucous-y cough coming from the bassinette next to my bed. I bolted upright and furiously smashed the call button for the nurse. I lifted you up, still unsure of how to hold you properly, and handed you to the calm man who appeared before me.
Don’t worry, he said, gently rubbing your tiny back.