Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Dear Baby

Well, today was the day. 

Mostly, it was a regular day.  Your Dad is out of town at a sales meeting so I ran around like a crazy person this morning taking care of your big (furry) brothers.  I was in the car early to get to work early for a meeting.  Work was pretty uneventful - just a regular day.

I wasn't sure whether today was the day to test.  I knew that it should have been the first day of my period but honestly, and I guess this is probably TMI for a tiny babe such as yourself, I've never been that regular so who really even knows?  I thought about waiting for your Dad.  But I was driving home and thought, you know, I'll just stop in, grab a test, see what happens.

I was talking to my Mom as I left Rite Aid.  I had to pee so bad but didn't want to take the test while I was on the phone with her, and didn't want to pee without taking the test.  I finally got her off the phone and went to the upstairs bathroom and peed in a little dixie cup, dipped the little stick and put the cap on and waited.  Actually, I watched it for a few minutes while reading the directions to see what would be what.  It looked like I was waiting for two lines, but having some experience with these tests I knew that there was often an "evaporation line that would appear.  Honestly, I thought that was what it was.  The directions said wait three minutes so I went to put my pjs on.

When I came back to the bathroom there it was.  Two pink lines.  One was faint.  I scoured the directions to see what that meant.  Doesn't matter if it's faint or not.  And so just like that, I knew that you were on your way.  I took a picture.  Of course.  Of the test, and one with your brother, Elliott, who looked at it curiously and I wondered if he knew what it meant.  You see, he's been asking for a baby sister for as long as we can remember.  And now, we know you're coming.

It sounds funny to say that I don't feel much different.  Not quite as manically happy or desperately afraid as I had expected.  I feel a lot of peace about it, about you.  In some ways, "knowing" doesn't change anything - you are as you have been, as you will be.  I have been waiting for you my whole life, and while we're reaching a different part in the journey, it still feels the same for me.  I'm so excited to meet you.

I felt a little guilty, for a few moments, for not waiting for your Dad, and I suppose that it sounds selfish but I wanted a few days to have you all to myself.  It's going to be an adventure for us, Baby, and I wanted some private time with you, just you and me, just for a few days.  I know that I'll have enough time to share you with the whole wide world.  I know that you will change my life in every way, and I wanted a few days alone with you to get my brain around the wonder that you will bring.

In a few days when your Dad gets home we'll give him the news together.   I had thought of a few ways to tell him and I know that we'll make it special.  He will be so excited to know that you're on your way.  A few days ago I asked him what he was looking forward to about being a Dad and he said to teach them things.  I knew years ago what a wonderful father he will be, and this seems to me just one step closer to seeing him do what he was born to do.

I wonder if you'll even want to know this, to know the start of your story one day, but I guess it will be here for you whether you want it or not.  You might wonder what I did after the test, after I had gotten the news.  Honestly, it was a lot like any other night.  I sewed some new pillows and talked on the phone and watched television in bed with your brothers.  I thought about you, but not more than I've been thinking about you for weeks already.  I looked at the test a dozen times, making sure that it did qualify as a "faint line".  I even googled "false positive pregnancy test" (which pretty much never happens, it turns out).  I started to write this note to you, to tell you how I feel on this important day.  Mostly, to tell you that I love you already.

Goodnight, Baby.  Sweet dreams.  I'll see you soon.


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