Dear baby girl,
I apologize for last week's letter to you being a bit of a downer. I happen to be one of those people that's terrible at hiding my true emotions, and when I sat down to try to write you a happy note despite being miserable it just felt...unsettling. I don't want to start our relationship off by lying to you before you're even born, so brutal honesty it was. Unfortunately, often times brutal honesty means letting you know that sometimes everything in the world seems like it's conspiring to ruin your life. As your mama, there is nothing I want more than to protect you from ever feeling that way, though I know that often times it will be out of my control. But thankfully there are days like today to balance it all out, days when brutal honesty means telling you that I can't stop smiling.
I woke up this morning to the kindest email I have ever received from a reader:
I was saddened to hear that baby's library has been damaged by the water and mold. Would it be OK if I send you a few replacements? You could let me know a few of the titles you lost, or I could send you a little B&N giftcard.
It would really make me happy to help build up baby's library again -- I believe you're never too young (or old) to become a reader!
Speaking of bringing you into this world, I can't believe how soon it's going to happen. I know I say that every week, and it must be getting annoying to read over and over again, but it boggles my mind that you're due to join our family in less than 30 days. Three out of the ten couples from our centering group have already welcomed their little ones who chose to make an early appearance, and getting their emails one after the other was a not so gentle reminder that you really could come any day now. While this totally freaks me out because we're still not moved into our new house, daddy is much more carefree about the whole thing. It's pretty much daily now that he grabs my belly, gives it and you a little shake, looks me in the eye and demands: "give me my baby... I want my baby now." Endearing as it may be, I hope you continue to listen to me and not him, at least until we're moved in, unpacked, and, most importantly, all of my 100+ spices are alphabetically put away. Mmmmkay?
That being said, there is no way I can describe how excited I am to finally meet you, to snuggle and squeeze you as tightly as the anticipation of the last nine months wants me to. When I try to conjure up the words, my eyes automatically close, an involuntarily huge smile spreads across my face, and my heart literally feels as though it's about to swell out of my chest. But no words come.