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?’