Tuesday, October 14, 2014

A Letter to Babysaurus II.

Dear Babysaurus, 

At 38 weeks pregnant, it's crazy to me that I will be holding you in my arms sooner than later. I'll get to count your fingers and toes, touch your baby cheeks, and take too many close up photos of your tiny baby eyelashes.I will actually get to look into your eyes for the very first time (I keep wondering, will they be blue like daddy's or a muddy green like mine?).

Your itty bitty baby clothes and blankets are all washed and folded, ready to snuggle you up. Your bedroom is completely ready--full of books that will take you on magical adventures, stuffed animals that will prove to be excellent guests at tea parties, nightlights that will keep away even the scariest of monsters, and little details to remind you of how loved you are all the time. I sit in the recliner we bought for your room at least once a day and I can't believe you're almost here. My baby. My baby is going to be living in this little room, sitting with me in this little chair during feedings or being rocked to sleep, laying on the activity pad learning about animals and elbows and numbers. The baby I dreamed of for so many years and have felt kick around for so many months will actually be here. It is a sweet and surreal feeling to say the least. 

Our whole house is definitely baby ready (we even put covers on all the outlets quite a few months earlier than needed). Your swing is set up and ready for afternoon naps, your bassinet is right by my side of the bed, your bottles are clean and put away in a space made just for them in the cabinet, your tubby toys and toiletries have taken over the hall bathroom. Your high chair is set up at the dining room table. Your stroller is tucked behind the front door ready for neighborhood walks and your car seat is waiting for you in daddy's car. I walked in from getting groceries last week and remember thinking, "Wow, it really looks like a baby lives here now." You'll be here so soon.

I still haven't panicked, I haven't felt that pang of terror, and the only moment I felt overwhelmed was when the house was in complete disarray and I worried about bringing you home to a mess (don't worry, I got everything cleaned up). I know things won't be perfect, but I strangely feel okay about that. I know Violet will probably jump on us as we bring you into the house for the first time no matter how many times we tell her to get down. I know people will show up to see you when the house is messy and I haven't showered. I know learning to breastfeed will be difficult (for both of us). I know sometimes you'll cry and I won't be sure how to soothe you. I know there will be sleepless nights and lots of really dirty diapers. I know there will be hills to climb and struggles to face but for the first time in my life, I feel okay about that. We'll tackle those things as they come along and I promise that we will be just fine.

The closer we get to the due date the more anxious I am to see your face and find out if I've been cooking a baby boy or a girl for these nine months. I am ready to give you your name and hear other people say it, too. I'm ready to dress you up in the tiny dinosaur hoodie your Auntie Pickles made special for you. I'm ready to ask daddy what everyone said when he announced your name and gender to everyone waiting in the hospital waiting room. I've asked that you get delivered to my chest and that we have a "golden hour" together right after your birth and I am so ready for those 60 minutes of getting to know you face-to-face. I'm ready for you to meet your family and friends and our family pets. I'm ready to see all of our favorite littles hold you for the first time. I am ready to watch Fraggle Rock with you on Saturday mornings and let you stay up late watching Beetlejuice and eating popcorn on a school night. I am ready to see your reaction to your first taste of strawberries and learn what your favorite color is. I'm ready to see your face when you walk down the stairs on Christmas mornings to see if Santa brought you gifts or coal (I'm almost positive he'll never bring you coal). I'm ready to pack up a tiny suitcase for your first sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's house, where they will most definitely let you eat too much sugar and stay up too late. I'm ready to see my husband become a dad, I can't wait to see him hold you for the first time. I'm just really, really ready.

People have asked if I'm getting sick of being pregnant and honestly, my answer is no. I've loved carrying you around these last nine months and feeling your tiny body move around at all hours (you are a bit of a night owl and love 2am). I rub my belly constantly and if I haven't felt you move in a while (which is sometimes 3 minutes) I anxiously wait with my hand to my belly to feel you kick around again. I have loved the look on people's faces when they get to feel you move around (your 5 year old cousin Charlie got to feel a little kick and his whole face lit up). All those years of dreaming and wanting and wishing for a pregnancy and it really has been every bit as magical as I thought it would be (even with the insomnia and the heartburn).

Less than two weeks (give or take) until I get to see your sweet little face and hold you close to me. I'm ready. I hope you are too.

XOXO and see you so soon,


1 comment:

  1. We are so ready too! Cannot wait to meet his or her sweet face! xoxoxo


You look so pretty today.