I dreamt about CK many, many moons ago. Before Paul and I were even together. I dreamt of a little boy with dark blond hair and huge brown eyes. A little boy with lips quick to smile and hands happy to be held. A brave and adventurous soul with a cheeky disposition to brighten every day.
I dreamt of him several times over the years, my little companion. Always dressed in a different costume – one night spiderman, the next with a cape – but always the same twinkling dark eyes.
He would enter my dreams and simply say, ‘my mama’, and we would just walk together hand in hand. Peaceful. Content. Mother and son.
I even knew his name. I’ve always known his name.
The moment I found out I was pregnant, I said to Paul, ‘It’s him.’ There was no doubt in my mind, no doubt at all. He was called by his name from that very day.
My CK. My twinkly-eyed, smiling boy.
He’s the one.