A year ago today, Zack and I found out we were going to be parents. We were a bit surprised, but luckily the test was idiot-proof:
I had just arrived back in London from an overnight flight (very uncomfortable) from the US where I had been working for a week (Dallas, Philly and New Jersey) and visiting my friend Linda. I admit I thought I might be pregnant that previous week when I almost threw up on a client, but Zack forbade me from taking the test without him. It was wonderful to find out together.
That day I remember thinking, "Wow, in a year we'll have a 4.5 month old baby." (I still think Beatrice was actually 2 weeks overdue, not 3 days early. 8lb 13oz - seriously, don't you think that at least suggests she was overdue?)
It is funny to think back because the baby I daydreamed about is nothing compared to "The Beatrice", as Zack sometimes calls her (better than Poo!). Idyllic Baby was small, and certainly much lighter to carry than Queen Bea actually is.
Idyllic Baby was also always dressed in white, and definitely not covered in drool and spit-up.
Idyllic Baby and Mommy (of course back to her pre-pregnancy shape) were always walking in the sunshine or looking intently at each other; not so with the real deal Beatrice and her actual Mommy who spent today in the park battling wind and watching the swans fight, after a screaming-I-don't-want-to-nurse-I-want-the-bottle fit. Who knew I would end up despising a breast pump?
Compared to the real Beatrice, Idyllic Baby is boring! The real Beatrice can arch one eyebrow and give you the most inquisitive look. She can also wet her entire outfit - both layers - down to her skin in about 5 minutes just with her drool alone. The real Bea often forgets you are in the room with her, and then when she sees you again, startles and then her face lights up with a big smile. How could I possibly have daydreamed something so wonderful?
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