A letter. An homage to the ten years we have spent as carefree loved-up idiots.
There are another 16 weeks to go before we become a family; a mum and dad, parents, providers... grown ups.
This is so much more real than anything else we have shared. Even our marriage which we entered into wide-eyed but willing to work hard. We promised each other forever but everyone knows what happens to those words 50% of the time. This feels different.
Muddling our DNA to create a human of our own is the opitimy of commitment.
No matter what happens to us as a couple, when this baby is born the world will contain a fusion of our cells, a fleshy embodiment of our love that will breathe and feel and cry.
It's so beautiful it embarrasses me.
People ask me how I am feeling as a kind of code for "how's pregnancy treating you" and I am at a loss for words.
I want to tell them how amazing and emotional and gross it is to carry our baby. But it all feels so private so I just say I'm great, you're great, baby's great.
But what I do want to say publicly is I wouldn't want to be doing this with anybody but you.
This next step in our life together is an interesting one because from what I gather it isn't all wonderful. Our friends and the blogs and well meaning advice-givers all want to share what a challenge having a baby will be - the hurdles we will have to face together and the sleep we will have to give up.
Most of our choices until now have been fun-driven: the holidays, the gadgets, the nights out, the £80 steak nights because we wanna... Are we mad to give up all this delicious disposable time and income?
(Please God don't say yes because it's too late and I can't do this by myself.)
But even if we are waving goodbye to our most selfish years for the time being, we have the most incredible bank of memories to look back on.
And you always keep the big promises so I know we will make this fun.
We'll do the day trips and the family holidays and get pissed in the afternoon because we don't know how to be anyone else.
And I trust you to help me find myself again if motherhood swallows me up for a time.
But I hope we'll both be patient with one another as we make this huge change.
You are already steaming ahead emotionally as I do the physical work to craft this child.
You miss us when we are apart - asking me to show my belly the minute you walk in the door.
You don't feel silly chatting away to your little boy through my skin.
You are always imagining the ways that you will love us and care for us once he arrives.
It's your positivity and excitement that has made my pregnancy feel easy.
And I want to thank you for your incredible support.
It's your unwavering strength and nerves of steel that I will be calling on as I hold your hand and push this baby out.
Happy Birthday Deej xxx