If you follow along on Instagram, you’ll have seen the hard launch by now – the hospital selfie with the peace sign I definitely didn’t have the energy for, and the one of Roman and his little brother asleep together that’s currently living rent-free in my camera roll. If you’re here from that post, hi, welcome, thank you for not unfollowing when I went suspiciously quiet for a few weeks.
I’ve been sitting on this for months. Not because I didn’t want to share it (anyone who’s followed this account since the “12 countries before 1” days knows I am not a woman who holds things in), but because some things just felt too precious to hand over in bump-update instalments. I wanted to actually meet him first.
So here we are. Everyone – meet Reggie. Our littlest roamer.
The timing, because apparently we hate ourselves
Let me set the scene: we moved house. During a heatwave. With a toddler. While I was, unbeknownst to absolutely no one, about to give birth.
I would love to tell you this was a carefully coordinated plan. It was not. It was more a series of dates on a calendar that all decided, independently and with zero consultation with me, to happen in the same weeekend. Boxes everywhere. No air conditioning, obviously, because it’s England and we plan our infrastructure around the assumption that it will never, under any circumstances, be hot.
And then, right in the middle of all that – it was time to have a baby.
I’d love to say I handled it all with grace. I did not. I handled it the way I handle most things: slightly feral, mostly held together with dry shampoo and melted chocolate.
Roman and “Gigi”
The bit that’s actually made me cry, if I’m being honest, isn’t the birth itself – it’s Roman.
He can’t say “Reggie” properly, so he’s landed on “Gigi,” and it has stuck so completely that I think we might just be calling him that forever now. Since we’ve been home, Roman has barely left his side. He sits next to the moses basket just watching him breathe, like he genuinely cannot believe this small person is real and staying. It’s the kind of thing you can’t really plan for or fake for content – it’s just what happened when I put my phone down and looked over, and I’m so glad I caught it on camera before he inevitably tries to feed him a crayon.
What happens now
Honestly? I don’t fully know yet. We’re in the thick of newborn fog, unpacked boxes are still very much a feature of our living room, and Roman has redefined “chaos” for us in ways I did not think were possible with just one extra small human added to the mix – oh and we all have a summer flu so that’s delightful.
But we’re a family of four now. And whatever this next chapter of Roman Roams The World looks like – Reggie’s first flight, the return of proper travel content, more honest motherhood posts – I’m genuinely excited to share it as it happens.
Thank you, as ever, for being here for the honest version of this. Squishy newborn and all.
Roaming on, one sleepy day at a time. 💙🌍
Leave a comment