I think about you in most of my moments. And it isn't just because you are asserting yourself inside me more and more, although that's part of it. It is hard to deny the physical aspects of having you inside me are disconcerting, to say the least. My favorite times are when it is quiet and I have the presence of mind to be still and feel you moving. But it is hard to be comfortable as I wind down this semester at USF. The chairs are hard, the classes are long and I daydream of our life together. The only thing that dissipates the fears about your arrival is the anticipation. There is such joy in moments with your father and I - I know this is the only way to bring a child into this world. You are blessed. I know this because you chose your father and I, and we have so much love to give you. He is less worried, but I bring you are heart that worries, that is anxious, that knows disappointment. Somehow these things have made my heart bigger, and more ready, for you. I may never be sure I am completely ready, and I hope that you never know of my insecurities. I hope that you only know my strength and my desire to hold you close to my heart, always.
I look forward to the journey with your father, and what we will discover about each other as we care for you and bring you into the world. We cannot make this world perfect for you, as much as we would like to, but we will insulate you a bit and share our lives with you. Our first baby - we could not be more elated.
I close my eyes and try to picture your face, your fingers, your belly - where you are connected to me. What will your first memory of me be? And of your father? I'm so excited for you to meet all your grandparents and to see you in their arms. I know that I can do anything I need to do so that I can look into your eyes. I will face whatever fears I harbor so that the three of us can start our life together. Your father and I early await your arrival, but you stay put and grow. We're not quite ready yet.
