Letter to My Unborn Child!

Dear Beautiful One,

I have been thinking about writing to you for a little while now, but I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say. But as I listened to my own voice (a little bit weird I know) walk and talk me through rehearsing my – our – birth this morning.                                

Why did I cry? Because I know how much I love you.

It’s already so different than what it was with Coco and Caesar. Why? I think mainly because of the fear. The way the fear of the unknown presented itself to me during my pregnancies and after they were born with them.

With Caesar, I had no idea at all what loving a human being that I had carried, nurtured, grown and then birthed would mean to me. I didn’t know that I would be able to simultaneously fall in love with and loathe my body at the same time whilst pregnant, because of the miracle it was performing in front of my eyes; as I acknowledged for the first time in my life that I knew I needed to relinquish control.

And then immediately after Caesar was born, I had to surrender even more.

I remember fear consuming me as he cried continuously (literally only stopping to feed) for forty-eight hours. I wondered what was wrong with him. What had I done wrong? Had I given birth to a crier? And if that was the case how the hell were we going to survive it all? On reflection, those two days were about your brother letting us know that he wasn’t particularly pleased with his change of location, but with a trait that has rung true throughout his short life so far, he has proven to be chameleon like in his adaptability. And yes the crying stopped….thank God! And my fear morphed into different, but more manageable shapes and sizes.

When we got pregnant with Coco, the fear came back with a vengeance, but this time it was different. It was the fear of loss that consumed me. After experiencing a miscarriage before Coco picked your Dad and I to guide her through these early years, there was another baby, who we were not destined to meet. And the fear that we might not get to meet your sister, was terrifying and all-consuming at the time. I was not a particularly nice person to be around in the early stages of that pregnancy. But once we reached and moved past our 12 week scan, my fear morphed again.  I then began to question would I ever be able to love her as much as your brother? I wondered if there would be enough space in my heart to love this new being equally.

But I was lucky. The love was instantaneous and all inclusive. I felt like the bells in all of the cathedrals were ringing at the same time, once Coco entered into the world. And nothing gave me a greater sense of joy than seeing your brother look at me and then your sister, completely understanding that, this baby was his too and she was the one who had been hibernating in my tummy for so long.

It was hard for me not to compare my two early experiences with them both, when my frame of reference was so clear in my mind.  But the things that worked well with Caesar, didn’t so much with Coco and to a certain extent it was like starting all over again, getting to know this new human being for who she was.  And so we did and it was cool.

And then…..then we got pregnant with you and just as with Caesar, I knew straight away. Even before the pregnancy test. And it’s curious to me, that even despite of what I teach, I trusted the pregnancy test more than my own instincts.

Beautiful, beautiful being always T R U S T  Y O U R  I N S T I N C T S they will not let you down.

And this time around life is even more of a whirlwind than it was during your pregnancy with your brother and sister. Let’s face it Caesar and Coco are a major part of the tornado that is the life your Dad and I live at the moment. But one thing that remains, the same, same, but different is my good old friend fear. Do you notice the theme lovely one?

Part of what I need to say to you is that there is no need to fear your fear, it is completely and utterly normal. Allow it to walk alongside you, or even better drench it in love. There’s no need to hide from it. Acknowledge it, embrace it, drench it in love. There’s no need to fear your fear.

So what does my fear look like today?


Fear of not being good enough.

Fear that there’s not enough space in my life – not my heart this time- but fear that I will not do you justice by being able to give you the head space, the practical space when it comes to balancing my life, my mission, work, motherhood, marriage and you.

And as I write all this, you beautiful human being, I begin to smile, because THIS is what I mean by drenching your fear in love. I am a believer in our own unique ability to create the reality we live in. And I know that just as my heart and head have expanded before, I can choose to create that again.

I want you to know that through every fear based action I experience over the next few days, weeks, months, lifetimes, on the other side of that fear there is always love.

Through all of the errors of judgement and times I fail to listen to my instinct, on the other side of that fear there is always love.

Through all the times I fail to remember I’m simply a guide and student of you, rather than crazy control freak expert on everything, there is always love.

I’m so excited about spending more time with you like this over the next few weeks. I love you.

Thank you for choosing me.

Mum xo



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