C is for the cinnamon, that daddy sprinkled on the girls’ toast in the morning, while chatting about the baby boy inside of Mummy’s tummy. “Is the baby going to be big with red hair Daddy?” Asked Zar. “No!” said Widy, “The baby’s going to be long and will have cute red cheeks.”
A is the answer, we had been searching for over these past years. After losing our angels, it was a wonderous surprise to have made you. Daddy didn’t believe you were really there, until he saw you at the first Ultrasound.
R is for the relief, that Mummy felt after your birth. Many sleepless, uncomfortable nights thinking about you, through the final instinctive birthing pain. All Mummy could do, was to push as hard as she could to finally meet the special you.
T is for timing, that was so perfect when you were born two weeks early. Mummy predicted you would come early just after Uni finished; two days to be exact, then be born at 10 p.m. that life changing night.
E is for everything, we will experience and learn with you; as you grown together with us your family. We really love your cheeky smile and fiery red hair.
R is for the reason we love and care for you so much. We are so very proud of you, our sweet little man, Mister C…
Baby C 8 months old (2013)
And there’s more Poems…
Carter A.K.A Mister C. (03.01.13)
C ute, as a button, digits so kissable.
A dorable, playing with your two big sisters.
R olls, about like a super star.
T alks, and babbles all day long.
E nergetic, gets around and into everything, everywhere.
R ed head, with a big spirit and so much laughter.
