Olive.

07.12.16 - cuddles at mummy and daddy's.

Four weeks old. You! You little bundle of cuddles and big blue eyes and frowns, you're four weeks old.

Olive Bel, you've brought light to all our lives and we can't get enough of you. We know your mummy and daddy are tired and probably sick of us clamouring for photos and updates, but we can't help it. You're just so special.

In your short life, your mummy and daddy have taken you all over. You've met your big brother, best friend and fierce protector, Nacho the pug, you've made some friends and you've been out to see the Queen (at least, one of her houses). You've been to Costa coffee, the place I used to work and the place we all go to catch up and chat away while you snooze in our arms. You've been to baby sensory classes and you've been officially registered.

You've grown already, and you go through three baby-gros a day. That's okay, though, because we can't stop buying you clothes. Every time I see you, I fall more in love, and I can't wait until you have cousins to grow up with.

Olive, it's nearly Christmas! Last week, I bought you a decoration to hang on your tree for your first Christmas. It might not hang there in every year to come, but hopefully, it'll get tucked away in a little box of memories for you to go through when you have children of your own. Your mummy and daddy don't want us to spoil you for Christmas; you've got so many toys and clothes already. But there will be a bank account with your name on it, and we will build it for you as you grow, so one day, you can buy your own car, or go on your own adventure.

The day after you were born, I took pictures, real ones, and handed them out to your family. We carry you with us everywhere we go; you're our angel and the light of our lives, even when you wake mummy and daddy up, or won't drink all your milk, or won't go to sleep. Those big blue eyes - turning brown - are all we need to forget how tired we are and keep on loving you.

Keep being you, full of life and personality and curiosity and cuddles.

Your Auntie Emma.

Baby.

Baby. Today you have been born, at 6.35 pm. We don't know your name and we don't know how much you weigh, but you're here. You were quick, your mummy was brave and strong and your daddy was calm. We are all so excited.

Today has been normal. I worked from home, I spoke to my colleagues and I avoided the news from America; I'm glad you were two days late, because you don't have to be known as the baby who was born the day Donald Trump became president. My mum, your Gaga, and me made the Christmas cake and listened to Christmas music. It's a tradition that you'll be a part of one day soon; it means Christmas is coming. You're not a Christmas baby, but you feel like one.

Your daddy is wonderful.

Today, your family is spread out across the world. You're lucky enough to have three Grampas; one is your mummy's dad and he's waiting to see you. One is mine and your daddy's dad, and he'll fly from Turkey to see you soon. One is your Auntie Emily's dad and he's in Milan until tomorrow; he'll meet you soon too.

Your great Auntie Kimmie and Uncle Ian are in Australia. When they meet you, you could be almost a year old, toddling around on your little feet, playing with your best friend, Nacho. But they love you and they'll see you as soon as they can.

You are so loved, little girl. You will be surrounded by love and light and you will bring us all so much joy. Your parents are so proud and so strong and brave. Remember, baby, to always love and appreciate them. From now, you are their world. You will grow and they will teach you everything you need to know about the world, and your big big family will be here to guide you. I'm driving to see you now, baby. I am so thrilled you are here. Be ever graceful and ever kind, and live your life with love.

Nothing compares to you.

10th October 2016.