Had such a lovely day today. So much sunshine. It was the first day it really felt like spring, so I met some friends at a lake with a beach and and ice cream shop, and the little boys were in heaven. As soon as we got the water Felix ran straight in and his jeans and winter boots got soaked, so we took them off. Then he insisted on taking his undies off so for a while he was running around in a winter coat and nothing else! Then of course the coat came off. I sat with my friends on the rocks and drank tea from a thermos and felt the sun warm on my face. Felix threw stones into the water with his little friend. He eventually talked me into taking my shoes off and dipping my toes in, and the water was like ice. There was a ten minute walk back to the car, and he held my hand, wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt, underpants, and wet winter boots. My darling, funny, funny boy.

We have been talking about taking the side off his cot for more than a year, and the response ‘yes, we’ll do it soon’, has been starting to wear thin. This morning when I went in to get him, he had managed to loosen one of the bars. ‘I’m taking the bars off, Mummy, help me!’ And indeed he managed to take two of them out, so we decided today was indeed the day. He was giddy with delight all morning, realising he could jump onto his bed whenever he wanted, and ‘hide’ under his quilt. We’ll see what awaits us tomorrow morning…

This evening Felix sat on my lap and stroked my belly. ‘Baby’, he said, and drove his little car down the slope. ‘You can talk to her, Felix,’ said Michael, you can say ‘BAH!’ ‘Noooo, the baby doesn’t like that.’ We chatted about babies and ‘tubes’ (umbilical cords) and names for a while, and I tried to explain that Oma had chosen Michael’s name, because Oma was Michael’s Mummy. It suddenly got a bit confusing, and Felix said ‘I think Mummy should always keep Daddy and Mummy and the baby and Felix’, and I said yes, we are together, this is our family.


I am dozing on a row of empty seats on the plane. Felix pads up to me and touches my arm.

‘How you making a baby, Mummy?’

‘Erm… Very well, thank you!’

‘Your body is good at that?’

I hesitate. After three losses, it doesn’t feel like it. ‘Yes’, I say. ‘Yes it is.’


We are walking back to the car after a morning in town.

‘What does the baby say?’

‘Erm… Blob blob blob!’


‘Ok, what does the baby say?’

‘Beep beep beep beep beep!’


‘There’s a baby in Mummy’s tummy.’ He likes to say. He gives it a pat. He comes with me to a couple of doctor’s appointments and listens to the heartbeat.

‘What they put on you Mummy?’

‘Jelly, so the machine can listen.’

‘I don’t want jelly to get on the baby!’


One morning as we snuggle on the couch, he says – ‘I like the baby.’ He repeats all the things he knows. ‘When I was a baby, I was inside Mummy’s tummy. It was warm in there. And when I came out you were very pleased to see me and you gave me a big hug.’ ‘I just eat with my mouth but the baby has a tube! And it says beep beep beep! And when it comes out it has blood on it. And it says Waa waa waa. And it can’t walk.’ ‘When I was inside Mummy’s tummy…’ he pauses… ‘When I came out, I drank milk from Mummy’s boobies!’ ‘Who else is having a baby? I want there to be lots of babies. Sooooo many.’


‘Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?’ I ask him.

He looks confused.

‘You’re a boy, and Linnea’s a girl. It might be a boy like you, or a girl like Linnea.’

‘I think it will just be a baby.’


At the scan, two weeks ago, we discover it will be a girl. I buy some baby clothes with roses on them. I show them to Felix and Michael on the weekend. ‘Put them away!’ says Felix. ‘I don’t like them!’

That evening, he says carefully – ‘Mummy, which house the baby going to live in?’