Overdueing it

Hello Baby Girl,

We don’t know your name yet. You’re not “here” yet. Well, you’re here, in your Mum’s tummy, very much ready to be born, but you’re not “here” yet. You are your Mum and Dad’s second child, a second daughter, and a little cousin to me. I remember your mother before she was “here”. I was twelve years old, in grade six, the night my mother stood in my bedroom doorway, the glow of the bathroom light coming down the hall and around her, as she told me, “Auntie Debbie had the baby! It’s a girl!” I was both terribly excited that she was a girl, and terribly excited that I had been right. She was my little cousin Laura. Now she is in her early thirties, and expecting for a second time.

Your mother is a very, very hardworking person. She is not only an elementary school teacher (like my mother, and the grandmother we share), she worked to get her Masters in Education as well. She managed all of that before marrying your Dad a few years ago and before your sister Milah was born.

Your Mum and I have a very special bond. She is my son, Angus’s godmother (Uncle Angus to you, as your big sister calls him) and she has been a champion and cheerleader for him, especially since he is someone with Autism who needs extra help. Your Mum was once like a little sister to me, now more just like a sister, since as we grow up and older, the plains between ages flatten out.

She puts a lot of pressure on herself. There was no exception in her pregnancy with you, although she worked as hard at making her body a healthy place for you to live as she did at everything else.

She told her that she thought maybe you would be an early baby. Maybe even two weeks. I told her that I remembered feeling that with my second child too, your Uncle Leo.

You were due on February 28th though, so you’re already fun to know, since we are already bad at predicting your next move. We watched Valentine’s Day go by, when we thought maybe you would arrive. We watched the Zodiac change signs, from Aquarius to Pisces.

Astrostyle.com says that Aquarius is “The mad scientist and humanitarian of the horoscope wheel, futuristic Aquarius energy helps us innovate and unite for social justice.” Pisces, rather is: “The dreamer and healer of the horoscope family, Pisces energy awakens compassion, imagination and artistry, uniting us as one.”

I don’t know what I feel about the Zodiac or astrology, but I definitely find it interesting.

We thought you would arrive on the 28th after all – and then, there it was. I think your Mum was probably the most surprised of all. February 28th was our mutual Gran’s birthday. She was the eleventh of sixteen children, and the first Canadian-born. Her name was Sheila, like mine. Your Mum never got to meet her, but I remember her. She was quick, and had a special fiery energy. She was very creative, and had mad cool style.

Then, you moved on from being a February baby to a March baby. You segued between birthstones too – from the purple of Amethyst to the crystal clear of Aquamarine. A light blue to go with your sister’s dark blue sapphire.

According to the Canadian Jewellers’ Association, Aquamarine derives its name from the Latin meaning “seawater”, is clear sea blue colour, but can also range from colourless to deep-sea blue. It is a close relative of the emerald as they are both members of the beryl family of gems. In the symbolism they say that Aquamarine was worn to bring courage to the wearer, victory at war, and safety on the sea. It was also thought to bring happiness to marriages, rekindle love and provide oracles with the best means of forecasting the future.

Imagine that.

Reading these things makes me think of the mysteries of you, little baby girl. Little baby girl born on the heels of the #Metoo moment, when there has been a huge wave and crave for change. I wonder if you will look on this time a little the way we look on the suffragettes?

I’ve been teasing your mother that she’s “overdueing” it. That’s probably much funnier to me than it is to her. I’ve been there too, as your Uncle Leo took four more days to feel like it was time to show his little mug.

The mysteries of you. All that belong to you. Will you look like your Daddy’s Polish family, or like your Mum’s Irishenglish-french Canadian family? Like your sister, you might have a little of both. You will be you, and it is you we long to meet. You we long to hold and help to grow as you will help me. You will be born probably somewhere around the halfway mark of my life. I’ve learned a few things, but I still have so much to learn, and hope to learn every day. I know that if you keep your eyes open, you’ll notice that too – we learn every day.

We don’t know your name yet, but we know that it will work in three languages (English, Polish and French). Although we’ve been told that you are a little girl, mostly you’re a little person, and you are fortunate already, to be surrounded by so many who are looking out for your welfare.

I have so many wishes for you – to be healthy, to be curious, to have fun, to make friends, to be passionate about life, but most of the wishes will take shape as you introduce us to them.

We look forward to meet you, you little time traveler, winding your way through months and signs and stones. You are one of us, and one of a kind. We love you.