Every time I close my eyes, I see you lying on your back.
You are wearing a multi-coloured check home dress with gathers at the top and a flared A-line bottom.
You’re holding your chubby legs in the air not minding that your diaper is showing. In a few years, we both know this would be a serious issue for you.
You’re babbling away softly and gently waving your clenched and equally chubby fists, most likely chatting with your guardian angels.
I’m sure you took the ‘activity packed’ quality of yours from me.
I’m watching and smiling.
That must be your dads complexion you have, you’re lighter than I am. Oh my, Your hair is so full! I’d definitely enjoy parting and bunching that healthy afro into ‘buns’ in scrunchies on sundays.
The scrunchies would match the lovely dress you would have on.
I’m love struck!
That nose..its also most definitely your dad’s… Very ‘bold’ as opposed to my ‘almost pointy’ one. Ha ha.
I’m swimming in happiness… Happiness from the fact that I’m blessed enough to give life.
Life, to a being that’s replica of the one I love.
Its all too amazing.
I don’t happen to see any other child around. I had hoped you would arrive after a brother or along with a twin brother but it appears God may have different plans…
I’m too blessed by your existence to wish for a different turn out. You’re too amazing for me to remember to complain.
I imagine your dad equally amazed by you.
When he holds you in his arms,
he’s all smiles.
I see he’s an entirely new being.
When you sleep off there, that’s a different ball game entirely.
He won’t let me rest, he would keep calling me to see how you look when you toss, turn or wrinkle your brow a bit.
I can’t blame him. You’ve brought out a side of him no one could ever have imagined existed , not even me!
Hmm Well done girl…
Though I’m a bit jealous. Haha.
I see you in your grandma’s arms, your dad’s mum.
Probably after church on a sunday. You’re wearing a pretty red and white dress with matching headband that’s struggling to stay atop your glorious mass of hair. she rocks you and calls you many lovely names,like”Atinuke”. She praises you as she happily looks down upon your sleeping cherubic face.
Your dad and I sit across the room nudging each other and watching happily.
On the drive home, you’d pout your lip in protest of being strapped up in your car seat at the back.
Your dad and I turn back at intervals to laugh and tease you about the level of wisdom you have for someone who has only existed a few months.
When I hold you in my arms everything else would cease to matter. My baby, my angel , my cuddle bunny…
I see myself holding you on my lap as you sit backing my chest. I’m looking down at you in your red and white sunday dress. My view is obstructed my your mini afro. Its obvious I’d never stop marveling at your thick dark ‘mane’. Your grandma, my mum, would of course have taken your hair up as her personal project. Prescribing what to do and what not to do just as she did for me.
When you sleep, I’d smile at your closed eyelids just as I’ve done for your father since we fell in love and exactly as he would have started to do for you.
Because of the unmistakable resemblance of him that you bear,
If by any chance you wake up and start to cry I’d just turn to him and ask “Please why are you crying?”
He would jokingly give me a side eye and we’ll both laugh before he tries to calm you.
I see myself at the salon in the middle of a hair dressing session.
someone brings you in.
You’re wailing and you’ve been at it for a while.
Apparently, no one at home could calm you.
But the moment I hold you in my arms and look in your face, before I can even say “what’s the matter babe?” ,
you look at me with your tear stained ‘dad’s eyes’ and giggle.
I just laugh and shake my head…
No one gets us.
I Can hardly wait. But I will wait my pretty.
Love you already…x