Preg-gers' Page
The entries, as the women reached the 20th week, were all about their men. They talked about writing a letter to their baby. And who would a mother talked about most but the man she loves.
Belle
Dear Baby,
I'd like to tell you something about your Daddy. Well, he's an enigma. He puzzles me. A lot. He's a man of great contradiction. He's both languid and rigid at the same time; tough and gentle; a thinker and an action man; in control but not controlling; a man of few words but with a lot to say.
I was very attracted to your Dad the first time I saw him. Tall, imposing, ebony, quick on his feet, and so self-assured. And those piercing bluey-green eyes. Sorry, baby... I'm gushing a little.
Your Daddy doesn't often say he loves me. It's really not necessary because I know he does. I know he loves me when...
...we're walking down the road and he walks on the outside.
...he speaks to me with his eyes.
...he calls me "Pixie" or "Elfin" or "Petite" or "Puny" or "Tiny" or "Little"
...he braids my hair.
...he takes me to McDonald's so I can satisfy my craving. Yeah, big deal? Yes, it's a big deal. We live three hours from the nearest town, and it's only called a town because it has a chemist (pharmacy where I came from) and a gas station. But the nearest Macca's is at Mt Isa, a mining town just under eight hours drive. So your Daddy flies us there in a helicopter, lands in a friend's paddock, borrows his truck and drives us there, all so you and I can have what we want. He said he's happy to do it once a week.
...he talks to me about finding my way back just by looking at the stars. We lay on the truck bed at night gazing at the sky. He points them out and teaches me how to navigate by them.
...he carried me home on his back after I hurt my foot bush walking. It was a three-hour trek home.
...everyday, as he walks in the door, he says, "Pixie, I'm home."
Me too, I'm home. And I can't wait for you to join us and your big brother, Rajo. I'll tell you about him another time.
Love,
Mommy
Billy
Hey Bubby,
I'm sitting in the Ute watching your Dad muster sheep in a quad bike. He's awesome. He amazes me a hundred different ways.
Ok, let me tell you... We came back here from Canada at the start of the Australian summer, we're talkin' 38 degrees celcius. That wasn't too bad in itself except when we left Toronto it was -5 degrees. Poor Raf!
Driving to the middle of nowhere in the Gulf Savannah of Northern Queensland where its practically summer all year round, he didn't know what hit hin. I half expected your Daddy to bolt, secretly pack his suitcase and hitch hike his way out but he didn't. Well, too late now.
Here, when it's not hot, it's very hot, and when it's not very hot, it's bucketing torrential rain. That means flooding, roads disappearing, swollen creeks, mud and more mud. Animals stuck in the mud. That means hauling them out and bringing them to safety.
And flies... millions... billions of flies. And mosquitoes... trillions of them.
And poisonous snakes. And giant crocodiles. And a million miles from civilisation. But your Daddy, he's still here.
He learned to muster cattle and sheep; learned to shear; learned to assist animals giving birth; learned how to track with the help of our aboriginal brothers; learned how to fly a helicopter.
The only thing he didn't have to learn was love me. He said that just came naturally to him. How cool is that? The other thing that came naturally to him was singing. We sing to you everyday, everynight. We make beautiful music together. He doesn't know that I know he's recording a CD for you. How clever is he?
We're likely to go back to Toronto in another month or two to join your Grandma and Grandpa Rousseau. I can't wait to join them. Yet sad that you won't see the great outdoors, the rainforest at your doorstep, the billabongs, the wild life, the tranquility and the isolation of a pre-historic place. But don't worry, I'm sure we will bring you home to visit. This great cattle station, in the great outback of Gregory Downs, that's been passed down through the ages, will be here whenever we return.
Loving you,
Mum
Leslie
Dearest bebè,
Wow, here we are. I can't believe it.
When I met your Pa, I was in pain, angry, mad at the world, vengeful and unforgiving of myself. I wasn't a good person, in my opinion anyway, for I have caused my parents a great deal of pain. It took a very long time and a great deal of tears to get me to a place where I'm able to love and also allowed myself to be loved.
Your Pa didn't give up on me, plus he stood up to your Uncle Spike; that's very impressive. Your Uncle Spike was a hovering Big Brother. He has eyes everywhere and he made it his business to know what I was up to. I didn't think I'd ever get on a second date with anyone, let alone get married.
Your Pa, he's my rock. He keeps me upright, grounded and steady. He'll be our rock.
When he walked into my life I was transformed. From a single, lonely girl to one belonging to a tribe. Yes, bebè, the di Nozzi is a tribe. There's a gazillion of us. We shall never be in the minority, ever.
I was transformed from someone who was self-loathing to someone who is thriving for self-forgiveness.
Your Pa always tells me that I am beautiful. A treasure. He tells me I have the prettiest face in the world but then he'd say, "I was joking". Grrrr..
He doesn't say, "I love you." He doesn't. Instead, he says, "I'm in love with you." I think that's really gorgeous, don't you think?
And, he's doing all he can to move us to our own home; out of your Nonna's backyard. We're not moving away from her because we don't love her, it's not that at all! It's just that we want our own space, our own life. We want our family to surround us, to orbit around us as we orbit around them - just not in such confined space that we risk collision.
He is doing all he can. And he's just the right man for me at the right time in the right place. You're coming to us at the best possible time because we are making it right.
I love you,
Mommy
Winnie
Dear little baby,
Goodness me, you nearly didn't make it here. I foolishly told your Papa that I don't date cops. What was I thinking? So lucky I changed my mind. But he says it's because he made me change my mind. He's right, you know? He persistent, never gave up, played it cool and played it nice.
What can I tell you about your Pa?
He's clever. Funny. Playful. Sensitive. Generous. Brave. All of them to a fault. He's sexy and handsome and so cute. He can also be annoying. Talkative. Silly. But I wouldn't change a thing about him.
He loves your nonna, me, babycakes, his family, his SRU family and friends... and now you. Not necessarily in that order because he said he'll be there for whoever needs him the most.
He likes lego and meccano so I can imagine the two of you on the floor building something out of plastic bricks.
He likes Sesame Street and the Cartoon Network and Justice League so I can imagine the two of you on the couch, you on top of him, watching television.
He likes comic books and children's tales so I can imagine him reading to you every night, going "Pow", "Boom", "Ka-pow!".
He likes experimenting so I can imagine you both in white lab coat and eye goggles making smoke bombs in the kitchen.
He likes to get down and dirty so I can imagine the two of you covered in mud when it rains; covered in soot and dust when it's sunny; covered in leaves and grass in spring time.
He likes me too, so beware, he'll tell you off if you're mean to me, or disobedient.
We love you so much and we can't wait to see your face. He thinks you should have my lips, his is better, so please have his.
I love you, I have to go pee now. Bye.
Love,
Mamma