Dear baby girl,
This week this whole pregnancy thing suddenly got real. A big part of that was knowing that I can now confidently refer to you as "she" rather than "it." That's a win right there. But I think an even bigger part of it was truly beginning to feel you move inside me. I thought I might have felt you a tiny bit before, but I really wasn't positive. And then, just a few hours after our ultrasound where the doctor showed us something that is apparently your labia, you made your presence very well known. And then again, and again, at least 5 different times throughout the day. And each time I couldn't stop smiling like a fool. I'm sure all the people in the coffee shop I was at thought I was crazy, giggling at seemingly random points throughout the day. I immediately called daddy, and although he was incredibly excited, I could tell he was pretty jealous too. I hope your kicks get stronger soon because I know he's dying to feel you.
Up until I felt you move, part of me felt disconnected from the pregnancy, from you. I guess I didn't truly feel it was real. And then I'd go on those awful baby forums where everyone talked about how much they're bonding with their little ones, and convince myself that I'm going to be a horrible mother because I wasn't experiencing those same feelings. When people asked if I was excited, I answered, honestly, that I was thrilled, that I had been waiting for you for more years than I can count on my fingers and toes. The part I did not verbalize, at least not to most people, was that this excitement was theoretical. It's like when you're about to go on a vacation, and everyone keeps telling you how excited you must be. And you fervently nod along and smile, echoing their words, but the truth is the excitement has not truly set in, and it won't until you're lying on that beach or exploring that city or climbing that mountain. Finally feeling you moving inside my belly materialized that excitement for me. That is, as they say, when shit got real.
I love knowing that everywhere I go for the next few months, I'm toting you around with me. I love knowing that I can keep you safe and warm. It almost makes me wish you didn't ever have to come out. Almost. But then I try to bend over to pick up a water bottle, and fail because my huge stomach gets in the way. And then, well, then I think I'll be a-ok when the time comes for you be born.