Bear with me while I find my feet, words wandering….

I used to write aimless things on the notes app on my iphone on the long bus ride from Elwood to Collingwood, on the slow 246 down Punt Road.  I wrote down the passing thoughts and memories that repetition allowed me to daydream my way through.  From the first day that I found out that I was (finally) pregnant, I began writing rambling love letters to my baby, to the fragile whisper of an idea that he was.

Awash with powerful pregnancy hormones, sometimes tears would rise to my eyes at the thought of holding this baby for the first time. I took one of the headphones from my iPod and trickled music through the surface of my tummy. Anyone who knows me well can guess already what kind of songs they were, Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits and Elvis. It is amazing how much you can love a stranger who doesn’t even hold the rights to the anatomical name of human, let alone a name of their own.

We didn’t find out the sex of our baby before he was born, but as far as boys names go, we only had one, right from the beginning of the pregnancy. We went through quite a few different girls names, and I kept going off them, but Perry Leo Netherclift was meant to be, for this boy child. The middle name Leo is in honour of Leonard Cohen, Leonard also being my grandfathers middle name. I assume that everyone reading this blog knows me, and probably knows that Perry is my maiden name. It was, for me, the most perfect idea, to join mine and Al’s together, putting a word to the knitting together of our love for each other, and joining our baby boy to his mothers family, as well as his fathers.