To my unborn ‘Pandemic Baby’,

You should see the world right now, Baby. People are painting rainbows for you. Some in chalk on pavements, some on the highest windows, some painted on fences. People are putting teddy bears in their windows for you and I to go and hunt together. I hope we find a big one. We hung one in our tree outside for all the kids in the neighbourhood too.

Baby, the whole world has stopped and is waiting for you. Lots of people have stopped working, and kids have stopped going to school. This never happens, Baby. It’s like the whole world needed to go on Maternity Leave ready to prepare for you.

Daddy and I have been building a puzzle together for you to see. We wake up early and make you a big breakfast and we take you for a walk every morning. We have to stay 1.5m away from anyone else walking because you are too precious. We wave to them and you make everyone smile. They say things like you are hope and you are exactly what this world needs right now. I knew you were special, the moment I found out you were growing in my belly.

Daddy and I have been having a green smoothie a day to make up for all the baked good we’ve been eating. I love baking for you, Baby, and I know you loved the banana choc chip muffin because you wiggled and squirmed for more every time I took a bite. Don’t tell Daddy but you also love the chocolate we’ve been sneaking.

We’ve spent a lot of time together this last few weeks, Baby. Just you, me, Daddy and our dog Penny. Penny likes to lay her head near you when we lounge and watch a movie. We’ve been watching a lot of movies lately, Baby. Apparently you won’t like watching movies when you first arrive so we thought we better make the most of it.

We have lots of free time at the moment. Lots of people do. I’ve been trying to set a bedroom up for you, Baby, but you’re too precious to carry into stores at the moment. I’ve been clicking add to cart and people deliver everything right to our doorstep for you and I, Baby. Do you know that people have even been dropping gifts at our door? Just for you. My cousin even hand painted a picture of a fig, just for you. You see, you used to be the size of a fig once, and now we nickname you Figgy.

When you enter this world, Baby, you’ll have Dad and I there to greet you. You won’t be allowed to have pretty flowers in the hospital and not even your Nannas and Poppy can visit. But that’s ok, Baby, let’s look at it as time for just us. We can get to know each other a bit better, maybe I will learn to bath you and feed you all on my own. I think you’d be proud of me then, Baby.

You will get to meet lots of people through a screen on a phone, and they probably will cry, Baby, because you will look so perfect and beautiful and they will just want to squeeze you and kiss you from head to toe. You’ll see what I mean when that time comes.

Baby, I can’t promise that I won’t cry for these people too. I miss them already and I really can’t imagine bringing you out here without them, but I’m sure you will do something super cute to dry my eyes and help me get over this little hurdle.

I’ve jumped some big hurdles, Baby. I’ll teach you to jump too. And when people slowly return to work, the rainbows wash away, and the teddy bears go back on shelves… we will have each other, and this story about how you were so precious that the world had to stop. Just for a little.

Just for you.

Love Mummy x