Dear Baby Girl,
Happy Monday! I just felt you kicking your favorite place – my right rib. You appear to still be warm and comfy in your amniotic bathtub. Everyone who I’ve seen at work so far this morning has said things like, You’re still here? When is she coming? You look tired. Your face looks puffy.
I cannot wait to meet you and hold you and introduce you to your wonderful father and the world.
This is a funny, limbo-like state to be in. I’m trying to remain engaged at work, but really I’m analyzing every movement that feels slightly abnormal in my body, wondering if it might be the natural process of labor beginning.
Honestly, I’m scared of the pain element of birthing you. But emotionally, I am so excited to meet you, so I am going to ride the birth experience with strength – excitedly anticipating the first look at you.
This whole experience still feels abstract. I hope that doesn’t feel strange to hear. Your room is ready, your clothing hung up and organized by size. Your dad sterilized some of your bottles this weekend and I made lactation cookies, as I really hope to breastfeed your exclusively.
I wonder if you might have dark hair and light eyes. Your dad thinks you’re going to have light hair.
I also wonder what kind of person you’re going to grow into, but that’s so far down the road it begins to feel abstract again. So back to the present…
Some traditions say that infants pick their parents. I’m unsure if I believe that, but if it holds any merit, I’ll say thank you for choosing your dad and I. We are so grateful to be able to bring you into this world with all of our best offerings.
You just did a double-right-rib kick – whatever is it like in that dark, warm, wet womb?
We’re on the precipice of a seriously new chapter in life. I am excited and awed and a little nervous. Let’s figure it out together – as a family – how to care, inspire, and support each other.
I’m feeling a little nauseous. I’m going to go eat some of those steamed vegetables I made for your dad last night. He’s working on his Masters so we need to keep him hydrated and healthy.
Until we meet outside of my body, I love you dearly little one.