My littlest love,
Tomorrow morning we will walk through the doors of the hospital and take the elevator to Labor and Delivery. Once we are there the nurses will assign us the room, the one where you will enter this world for the first time. Someone will come in to make us comfortable and then they will start my induction. From there, my sweet baby, it is only a matter of hours until we meet you.
After spending the last 39 weeks with you (almost 8 of which were a total surprise) I have come to know you as no one else does yet. I am the one that feels you when you wake and when you sleep. I feel both your big and little stretches, your kicks, your twists, and your hiccups. Sometimes I sing to you and sometimes I stare in wonder and can’t believe that my body is capable of growing a human being. I can’t believe that through all odds our bodies are able to create tiny miracles that we are privileged to bring into this big world.
Tonight I will probably toss and turn in anticipation of my 4AM alarm and when I get out of bed I will count the minutes until it is time to leave.
Tomorrow I will have to share you. Tomorrow I won’t have to yell across the room to tell someone you are moving so they can run over and feel you before you settle down, they will be able to see you with their own eyes. Tomorrow we will know that you aren’t the size, weight, or length of a watermelon, but of an actual baby. We will know the color of your eyes and your hair. We will hear your first cries as you greet the world and we will feel your tiny fingers wrap around ours. Tomorrow I will cry when I meet you because I have been imagining you for so long. I will never want to let you go and I will really, really realize that I am a mother to a little baby boy.
You aren’t here yet RDW, but you have already brought us so much joy and so many blessings. We can hardly wait another second to meet you.
All of my love,