Father’s Day last year we were well and truly excited for Astrid’s arrival, I was on the home stretch, feeling good and there were lots of smiles all around. There was a big trainer love in our house at the time and I thought for our first Father’s Day a mini me trainer set would be the perfect gift. I found the perfect pair of New Balance trainers that I thought Ryan would like and that also had a matching teeny size. Very extravagant and not a precedent we would be setting but for a special gift it felt right. Ordered, paid for and waited on their arrival.

I received a very bashed up box that had been hastily taped together and found that only the adult pair had arrived, the small ones were missing. I was going back and forth with customer service it was determined that they must have been taken at some point in transit and then delivered to me. By the time they had agreed to replace them, they were no longer available. Father’s Day had been and gone and the promise of the small version came in the form of a print out of the tiny pair inside the box of the adult shoes. It was a funny story at the time and we would buy another matching set one day.

Now that symbolism is so unbelievably sad. Those lovely little trainers were pinched out of the box, taped back up and delivered to us and never replaced. It broke my heart when I thought about this after Astrid passed away, those little shoes she would never wear. In some ways I was happy they were taken, because they weren’t there, unworn, but of course how I wish they were ready for those first steps one day.

So this year, what does Father’s Day look like? Of course it’s not what we would hope it to be, but something I could fill it with was a little hope. I braved the matching trainer set once more, determined this time to see a little pair of shoes turn up with their daddy’s.

This year, both pairs arrived. Now of course I know this prophetic trainer buying isn’t exactly tried and tested but I hope more than anything that the arrival of these tiny matching trainers is indeed a little glimpse into a future with more feet to fill them. One day we hope for a little brother or sister for Astrid and, who knows, perhaps it’s a new Father’s Day tradition (no pressure to our postie!).