Wondrous uncertainty

The most wonderful thing I did not see coming

Hello you,

How are you settling into the season?

(FYI this letter partly talks about a new baby in my friendship circle)

I’ve been reminded that life can surprise us at any moment. Try as we might to cling to the illusion of a plan, we really have no idea what’s coming. 

Sometimes though, unexpected surprises can be the most beautiful things, cracking open parts of us we didn’t know were there.

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I’m in London on the hottest day of the year. Wearing minimal clothes, a slathering of factor 50 and a sun hat that has been scrunched at the back of a cupboard, I wait at Paddington for one of my dearest friends.

Photo by Brent Ninaber on Unsplash

This friend and I bonded as 15-year-olds, sitting together in science and maths, coming to the joint decision that we’d never understand any of it so we may as well not bother. Some may say we brought each other down…but I wouldn’t change those lessons for the world.

You could often find us under a gummy school table at break time, one earphone each listening to songs which reminded us of our probable lifelong singledom and brought us to the edge of cathartic tears.

Now, when my beautiful friend emerges from the lift, she has a pram. A pram! As of three months ago, my friend is a mother to a daughter. This is my second time seeing her girl who looks so different to the skinny-limbed new born I held a few blinks ago.

We walk slowly and sweatily to Hyde Park where I’m in a foreign land. Parakeets squawk in the trees above, although I don’t see one. People are dotted around on towels. There is a smell of summer holidays; sun cream and parched grass. My friend launches straight into an emotive anecdote. We’re just picking up where we left off.

We veer off-path and find a patch of dappled shade. I instantly take my sandals off, wiggle my toes and let my hot feet breathe.

The way my friend moves her body and knows just what to do for her daughter is fascinating. She is already an expert. I’m proud of her and also feel a little like a child myself. Mothering is a facet of life which I’ll never directly experience. I’ll always be a little bit open mouthed at my loved ones doing this amazing thing of raising children. 

With a clean nappy and dry grass to grab, baby girl is content for now. 

My friend and I get back to it, words flowing as easily as they ever did.  But then there’s a pause and a subtle change in the air.

“Actually…there is something I wanted to ask you.”

I look up and her eyes are shiny. For a moment, I am baffled. She has already asked me to play a big role in her wedding next year which I am truly honoured to do.

What is about to happen? My brain tries to pre-empt and comes back with nothing but a blank page. 

With a quivering, stilted voice she says,

“We wanted to ask you, if you would be her godmother?”

Her brows crease in emotion and I take a second to let the question land.

“Really?”

It comes out high pitched- the emotion is contagious. 

I am taken aback as she explains the huge significance of her own god parents and the care with which she and her partner have taken to choose the people who will play this role in their new daughter’s life. 

“I thought of you. I thought you’d be a good guide and role model for her. It’s up to you though.”

I look down at the baby girl under the trees and instantly feel a shift. I look at her tiny toes and her big conker-brown eyes. I look at this being full of potential. I look back up at my friend and start to connect the dots. 

Me and her. Her and me.

As someone who has chosen not to be a parent in the traditional sense, I have perhaps unconsciously accepted that, whilst I’ll have young people in my life, I may never play a significant part in any of their lives. I’ll be more of a keen side character. The oddball auntie who pops in with gifts (books) and then isn’t seen again for months or even years.

All of this has flitted through my subconscious in about three seconds. I throw my arms around her and accept, already feeling the huge love and the gravity of responsibility which has been bestowed upon me.

“I have a goddaughter!! Hi, I’m your god mummy!”

My god daughter doesn’t seem too bothered but she does chat back with a couple of noises. 

“I can’t believe it! Thank you. Thank you.”

We pack our spot away and continue our sticky amble. We discover that the café, though horribly noisy, has air con. So, we buy a sarnie and some chips and carry on with our catch-up agenda.

I’m all aglow. I am a godmother. Me! (Well, I asked if I could be guide mother and that was approved). Everything feels different.

Not too long after, it’s time to say our goodbyes and return back to our north south divide.

I’m walking around with a new lens on the world. I’ve surprised myself at how much this invitation has moved me. I don’t think my friend realises the weight of this gift. It’s probably the most significant compliment anyone has ever given me.

I feel so loved and so seen. And, even though I don’t feel ready, I’m going to try my very best to be the role model, supporter, friend and guide for this little person.

Dear A:

I’ll never forget the hottest day of the year in September 2023. The day I became your guide mother. 

It was a good reminder that you never know when an unexpected surprise might arrive in life. And it might be something wonderful. 

From now on, I’ll always be here for you. I’m so proud of you and I love you. I can’t wait to go on this adventure together and I can’t wait to see who you become.

Has life ever surprised you in a wonderful way? Please share in the comments if you’d like to. I know your joy will be infectious.

Janelle x