Am I the only one who does a good line in weeping in restaurant toilets? Because twenty minutes into meeting the newest member of the Secret Royal Family and that’s where I was.
I wasn’t prepared for how perfect she would be, how much love and vulnerablility travelled with her, how Stu’s face would soften so much.
I wasn’t prepared to be walloped by grief for the babies I’d lost in making the two perfect boys I have.
I wasn’t prepared to instantly love her.
It was a terrifying beautiful magnificent few hours, watching three parents begin to share a single light source as they walked through the dark together. Orla May – which means new golden princess (of course it does) – was a darling, smiling and gooing and letting us cuddle and kiss and smell her.
There was a lot of nervousness on the mums’ parts too, especially the one who didn’t carry Orla May as her link was by love not blood. Would Stuart’s genetic contribution perhaps diminish her own? It didn’t of course.
That’s the great thing about unchartered territories. Frightening and exciting in turn, they will always lead you to a new place and leave you with new emotional equipment. And if you want your heart to stay big and fat and strong, you can’t have too much of that.
Like love I guess.