Dear Fred

Dear Fred,

I just wanted to write to you to tell you how much I love you and to tell you how proud I am of you.

I want you to know how smart, brave, funny and beautiful you are. I want you to know that you are important, that you are loved and that the world is your oyster. I want you to always continue to march to the beat of your own drum….. because that rhythm really is the best.

I want to thank you for being the kindest and sweetest big brother to Louisa. She is so lucky to have you. We are all so lucky to have you.

I remember the moment the midwife first passed you into my arms like it was five minutes ago, because it was honestly the best moment of my life. “You’ve got a little baby boy.” she whispered and my heart danced and sang and it felt like all my dreams had come true. You made me a mother. The most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.

You were with me right at the beginning. You were sitting next to me, you had just turned two and we’d just moved to a brand new country away from everyone and everything you knew. But you never complained. I was 36 weeks pregnant with your sister and in that small hospital room the doctors told me that the baby in my tummy was missing a kidney. It was just you, me and them. I feel like this is the moment that changed me forever – because I knew, in that moment, that there must be more to your baby brother or sister’s story. And you were with me. You were happily watching Paw Patrol on your iPad but you noticed that I was crying, you looked at me and told me it was ‘okay mummy’ when the receptionist sat me down for a cuddle because I was shaking in shock. You held my hand and didn’t make a fuss as I drove that hour long car journey home to see daddy because you knew mummy was feeling a bit sad. You didn’t ask questions, you just showed me love. You don’t remember this, but I always will.

When most two year olds were terrorising others at soft play, you came with me to Louisa’s appointments. You sat in the corner quietly so that mummy could speak to the doctors, you helped and got involved in physio by encouraging Louisa to sit up, crawl, stand and eventually walk by waving different toys in front of her to encourage her. You played with all the therapy equipment and had a blast. You entertained her therapists with your funny jokes and made us all laugh.

You have always happily gone to friends houses when mummy and daddy have had to go to the hospital with L. You are so adaptable. When we were in Canada you were always so excited when we went to the Lego hospital because you thought it was cool, even though you knew that when we got there it was all about your sister. You’ve laid in Louisa’s hospital bed and played with the bed remotes – finding fun in every situation. You’ve made the nurses laugh with your cheekiness.

And throughout everything, even to this day, you always clap and cheer when Louisa learns a new skill, every time she reaches an inchstone you celebrate with daddy and me – as proud as punch for your little sister. The way she looks at you with so much love and admiration just proves how important you are to her. You are showing her the way.

Thank you Fred, thank you for all the times you have been strong when I have felt weak. Thank you for keeping me going (even though I know that you don’t know that you do!). Thank you for not getting mad at the attention your little sister inevitably gets because she needs a little extra help.

Thank you for caring for Louisa when she is overwhelmed. Thank you for comforting her in the car when she is sad by holding her hand or sorting out the iPad for her. These little things are such big things.

Thank you for your own tantrums – for keeping me on my toes. For giving me something ‘normal’ to moan about. Thank you for being a little nightmare sometimes – I love your feistiness and your stubbornness. Even though it exhausts me that you take forever to get dressed or tidy your toys or groan about what colour Pokemon toy you got in your McDonald’s happy meal, I secretly love that you do these things.

I love all the questions you ask, the way you are always wanting to know more – how you constantly ask ‘why?’. I love your zest for life.

And I want to thank you. Thank you for the cuddles, the kisses, the jokes and the love.

And I want to apologise. I’m sorry I’ve let you down at times. I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied with Louisa at meal times that some days I’ve barely spoken to you at the table. I’m sorry we don’t read your reading book when Louisa is having a meltdown. I’m sorry that you are woken in the night by her screams. I’m sorry that you have to keep all your small toys locked away in your bedroom because Louisa tries to eat them. I’m sorry when she’s bitten you and it’s drawn blood – she doesn’t understand, I promise.

I’m sorry when I have cried in front of you. I know I shouldn’t and I really try so hard to keep it away from you. But I have at times, and I’m so sorry that you’ve had glimpses of my pain. I hope you don’t remember those times.

I’m sorry that I have to set boundaries, that I can’t let you do what you want all the time. That’s because I’m your mum, I’ve got to show you right and wrong even if I seem like I’m being unfair that I won’t let you watch your iPad for 23 and a half hours of the day or eat chocolate fingers for breakfast, I know you’ll understand when you’re older.

I’m sorry that I’m on the phone a lot, talking and fighting with different professionals, researching different things that could help your sister or even when I’m just trying to escape it all by meaninglessly scrolling Instagram, when all you want me to do is play with you. I promise I’ll put my phone down more. I’m sorry that I’m tired at the end of the day when we’ve had a busy day of appointments.

I’m sorry that you still need help to ride your bike without stabilisers because mummy and daddy have been too busy and too tired to help you. I promise that we will sort this out and you will be riding confidently by the summer.

Sometimes your daddy and I have worried that you are missing out. And, in truth, there have been times in the past where perhaps you have. But I know deep down that having a sister like Louisa could never be classed as ‘missing out’. I know our family is making you even more empathetic, even stronger, even braver, kinder and wiser. I know your heart is big and your soul is pure. I know that you will make the most incredible man because you are already the most incredible boy.

Fred, I am so proud of you. I promise I will keep trying to do my best by both you and Louisa. I promise that every time I mess up I will try harder next time to get it right. That I’m trying to be a good mother to you. I promise that no matter what, you and Louisa are BOTH at the forefront of every decision I make and everything that I do. You are my world.

I love you with all my heart and all my soul.

You are my best.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Lots of love mummy xxxx