I wish I had the courage to show you my growing belly.
The way the scar from my surgery sits across it, a badge of honour on my slowly rounder stomach.
The pain of sickness contrasts with the smooth, ever tighter skin next to it and the life it contains.
The way its jagged edge veers around my belly button and the way Hunna traces it with his finger because he knows I can't feel anything on my scar.
The way he rests his head on my small blossoming belly and listens for signs of his ever stronger daughter.
Yes, baby is a girl.
We took the 20 week scan last Friday.
I lay there, my stomach bare for the technician to see, the machine wand swirling across my belly.
My nervousness clearly seen by the sweat seeping though the under arm material of my top.
When she told us her gender I knew she was our beloved.
Our little light, the one we could see at the end of the dark and drafty tunnel of the last few years.
The one we had been walking towards, our ray of hope.
And I felt as if we had made it to the end of the tunnel and stepped out into the glorious sunlight.
The radiance of light so bright, the warmth so enveloping, all I could do was feel, and stand in awe.
I feel more love. More love than I've ever felt before. For Boy, for Hunna. For our new baby girl.
For our, soon to be, more perfect family.
My heart has been on a journey these last few years.
A journey to learn to love and trust. A journey of recovery.
And I fear I will never be the same again.