I should have been keeping a journal over the last 5 months detailing my thoughts and feelings and prayers from the minute I found out about you... but I haven't. So instead here are some things to tell you so far:
You make me nervous. I didn't really think you would at first because I was so excited... but after the first appointment with the doctor (when she told us you might not exist), the nerves set in. And they set in more for your Dad than for me. He hasn't kicked it ever since! And now, there were a few days there where you weren't kicking and you made me nervous again. I prayed for some kicking (or some peace if you didn't start kicking again) and the kicking started a couple days later. And just this morning, I felt you on BOTH sides of my stomach at the same time. Are you already long enough to reach both sides of my stomach at the same time? AND to punch/kick simultaneously?! You are so coordinated.
How you looked at your halfway mark. You. Are. Cute.
You are frustrating. I keep telling your Dad about your kicking and how I can even SEE my belly move and as soon as he gets over here to feel it, you stop. Buddy... keep kicking. Your Dad thinks you don't love him!
Buddy, you can't NOT love this guy. Start kickin' and show him the love.
You are a conversation starter. Whether we're talking about your name (it will NOT be Eleanor or Eloise or Lillian or Max) or your nursery (dude, it's COLORFUL) or your granddad's "name" (J.i.am, like Will.i.am from the Black Eyed Peas or Grumpy or Big Chief)... it's definitely all about you these days. And we're all okay with that!
The full bed in your room... except the walls will be brown and that striped fabric on the bed will be the bed skirt.
You are weird and pregnancy is gross. This is what your Aunt Kate always says. I'm afraid to tell you... she's probably right. But at least she didn't say YOU were gross! (And she's weird, too. Really weird. So don't let it getcha down.)
See. Told ya.
You cause weird dreams. And a LOT of them.
You are loved. Man, when I even THINK about the second I'm going to get to meet you, I feel the tears welling up. Seriously, even writing this right now I can't hardly stand it! Whether you put me through 24 hours of labor or do horrifying things to my body during that time... or before (yes, I'm using stretch mark stuff and there's no way it's going to help but I'm pretending it will). Or if that process makes your dad pass out in the delivery room (it'll happen. I'll put money on it.) Or if you weigh 10 lbs 12 ozs like your dad... Lordy, Lordy. Or if you're a boy or girl. Or if you have medical problems. Or if you won't eat and you stress me out. Or if you come out singing Glee tunes. I already love you and I can't imagine that will do anything but grow in the next few months.
You make me forget stuff. Not really... because I don't blame things on "baby brain" and I actually have been remembering things a lot better than normal... but I'm sure there are other things I should put in here, but this is long and I'll write you again before you're born.