Our childbirth instructor asked us a while back to write a letter to the baby. I'm not the sappiest person--it's not typically easy for me to express serious feelings. So since I sat down and did it, I thought I might as well share this with you, so you can see that I am occasionally able to get beyond the bodily function jokes...
To my little Peanut,
It's hard to believe that half a year has gone by since I found out you were on the way to us. At first, it seemed hard to believe that something so amazing was happening inside my body. But sure enough, you made your presence known little by little. Over the past few months, your little fluttery movements have turned into kicks and somersaults. Just yesterday you had your first case of hiccups. I love that you are with me wherever I go, and I still get excited over every movement you make, even if I can't yet tell if it's an arm or a leg poking me in the side.
I suppose this is just a small preview of what's to come. I anticipate that once you're here, I will still be fascinated by your every move, not to mention every sound and every facial expression, and probably every smell, too. I've also begun to realize that the constant worrying is too, here to stay, that I will forever be concerned for your health and happiness. I know that the worry I have felt while carrying you inside me will pale in comparison to the worry I will feel once you are here. I also know that the joys you will bring to your daddy's and my life will be overwhelming compared to the already great joy I have known these past few months.
I suppose there are practical reasons to bring a child into this world: to have a helper for the chores; to have someone small enough around the house who can find out where that strange little door in the back of the upstairs closet actually goes; to make sure there will be someone around to change our Depends when we're old; for the tax credits; to get our parents off our backs and give them some grandkids already. But we didn't think it through like this. We didn't need to.
I can still remember very clearly a night before your daddy and I were engaged. We were standing in his kitchen, arms around each other, and he asked me if I could see myself having children with him. I didn't even have to think about it--the answer was an emphatic yes. Before I met him, I wasn't even sure I'd ever really have a desire to have children. But with him I just knew it would be right. I could picture his arms cradling my babies, could see him running through the yard laughing with them as they grew older. Soon you will be here and I will see all this come to life, and it's going to be amazing.
I am looking forward to seeing the world through your eyes as you grow. Life gets so routine as you get older, and you barely have time for anything but paying the bills and taking care of the house. I can't wait to help you explore all the things that make life wonderful; you will make them all fresh and new again for me. I want to take you to the zoo and to the beach and to the woods. I want to show you flowers bursting up from the ground in the springtime, help you catch fireflies in the summer, and watch you catch snowflakes on your tongue in the winter. I want to hear you laugh and I want to be the one who can dry your tears when you are sad. I am so excited to get to know you, to discover your talents and your quirks. I feel very blessed already to be the one you will call "Mom". I can't wait to meet you.