You are so lucky. There are so many people waiting to meet you. To see your face and learn your name. I know that means that your parents are pretty lucky, too, because all these people are anticipating you because of their affection for us, our little family. It’s amazing.
I know you and me have talked about timing many times over the last few months. And I wanted to thank you for staying put this past week. There were a couple of moments when I wasn’t completely sure that you would. Like Tuesday night. I was too distracted with some writing work to really count, but it seemed like those tightening signals were coming pretty regularly there for awhile. Then they stopped, and we went to work the next day, just like always.
This morning, when we were hooked up to the monitors and I was sitting back enjoying the soothing sounds of your happy little heartbeat, I watched the printout and saw a few of those same surges, and sometimes, I even felt them. I know we’re just warming up still, but the nurses did share my optimism when I informed them of our agreement to have your birthday within the week.
I want you to know that no one’s going to force you to come into the world before you’re ready, but I feel like you and me are on the same page. You seem ready, even a little bit antsy, to be born, and that’ll be a good thing for a bunch of us.
Because I don’t want to go to any more office visits. I don’t want to have any more non-stress-tests. I want your grandparents and auntie to be able to come and meet you without having to change a lot of (admittedly tentative) plans or spend a lot of money. So I am working with your dad to be ready for you, too. I hope that with our gentle encouragement, your timing will be just perfect.
I want you to know that I am still happy to have you with me, inside. I’ve complained a little bit about my hip aches, my sore stretched skin, my sleepiness, but I still consider myself to be a happy and well pregnant lady. And your dad has done a wonderful job of making sure that I stay comfortable and fed, even when it means that he has to do the dishes, make dinner, or complete some of the other domestic tasks that require a bit of that moving and bending I’m not so good at anymore.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we’re ready whenever you are. Sure, we still need to get you a mattress and install your car seat, and maybe win the lottery, but your dad and I, along with your grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles and countless friends, are all eagerly awaiting your imminent arrival.
Lots of love,