I'm tired. I should be in bed. In fact, I should've been in bed long enough that I should be getting up to go to the bathroom about now. But I'm not. I'm here. I'm writing.
I'm writing to you, my son. I have a friend--a kindred spirit, actually, someone I've never met because she lives in England but we both love books and we met through email...this is friendship in the 21st century sometimes...anyway--I have a friend who writes letters to her daughter and she shares them with the rest of us. I liked that idea. I don't think I'll be as disciplined as she is in writing to you every month but I'm going to write to you now. Because I'm thinking about it.
And these days that's when I have to do things--when I think about it. I used to be good at keeping a mental list of things to do, things to write, things to say. But lately I can't keep two thoughts in my brain. "They" say this is pregnancy brain. I find it frustrating. In fact, I find many things frustrating these days--the ache in my back that makes it hard to walk sometimes, my inability to find a comfortable position in bed, how tired I feel and knowing that's only going to get worse. But despite the inconveniences and aches and pains, I don't really mind. Oh, sure, I'll whine. I'm a good whiner...but the truth is, I don't mind. Not if it gives me you.
The reason I wanted to write is because I was thinking about your kicks. Lately, you've been kicking me a lot...and hard. Every now and then you hit something just right in there and it HURTS! But all I can think about it is how much I'm going to miss feeling that. I suppose that's a little silly because that means I'll be holding you, finally seeing your face and touching those beautiful toes we first saw back in October. But you won't be safe and secure and protected inside of me. You'll be out here in this crazy, mixed up, beautiful world, and I won't feel you kicking anymore.
There's so much I'm just itching to share with you. I'm afraid I'm going to be one of those ridiculous people that takes babies to things that they are far too young to appreciate...like taking you to the zoo when you're about two months old. But I'm just so excited for you to see this world, to hear the music, to read you books, to tell you stories. I'm so excited to tell you the story of your name. I hope it inspires you. I think it will.
But I'm going to miss those kicks. I'm going to miss wondering what you're up to in there. I'm going to miss the security we both feel of having you inside of me. But it'll be wonderful...to have you. You have no idea how much and for how long I've wanted you...and you daddy, too. We both are just crazy about you already. Our son.
So, keep on kicking...and ignore me when I whine. Because it's all worth it to have you.
All my love...me