Hi Baby Boy,
Twenty three weeks. That’s how long you and I have been together, getting to know each other a little more each and every day. By now you’ve heard me and your father chattering away, and all those prods and thumps you feel are thanks to your big sister, Tayler. She’s got one speed, and that speed is GO. You’ll see. 🙂
Ever since I was old enough to think about becoming a mom I’ve always envisioned myself as a mom of boys. I just always felt like it suited my personality. I love to play rough, get dirty, and play sports. I love to play in creeks, climb trees, and overall, I think I’m a pretty low maintenance person. Until our ultrasound, I was convinced Tayler was a boy. Your dad knew she was a girl all along (which drives me nuts – I hate when he’s right!), but boy was I shocked! While I have whole heartedly loved being a mom to a beautiful little girl for the past year and a half, (and I actually thought you were a girl for awhile, sorry!), I am so excited for our upcoming adventures. You and I – we’re going to have fun together.
The real reason I’m writing you right now, however, is to make a mommy confession of guilt. While I know you’re probably too busy growing big and strong to notice, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been neglecting you. When I was pregnant with your sister I remember so much planning, attention to detail, reading, and preparing for her by this point in the pregnancy. Outside of work and spending time with loved ones, I was able to spend all my energy on getting things perfect for her arrival. Every piece in her nursery was carefully planned. I was able to rest and relax when her and I needed it. I had the time to watch every single episode of A Baby Story, and every single item on her registry was added with much consideration and thought. Your dad and I sat there and rubbed and talked to my belly nearly every night. Ah, life before children. 🙂
You and I have been together twenty three weeks, and all I’ve really been able to do is go through Tayler’s old clothes to pull out all the neutral pieces (we didn’t tell anyone she was a girl for awhile :)), clean out your closet that your father and I used for our overflow, and I got your new breast pump so we can really make this breastfeeding thing work for awhile. I’ve bought you a few new outfits – its been fun changing gears and learning how to shop for cute boy clothes! Your father and I have just recently started to nail down some name possibilities, too – I hope you like what you’ve been hearing. But truthfully, that’s about it. I haven’t been able to relax as much as needed (again, your sister has one speed), and she takes much of my time and energy. I hope you’re doing OK keeping up. (Also, I hear you loud and clear – NO MORE RUNNING. Got it.).
I’m not sure if maybe there’s just a lot less to do because we’ve already been through this all before or if I’ve just genuinely had a hard time making the time for you, but my sweet boy, I want you to know something.
I want you to know that I have thoroughly enjoyed every moment we’ve shared together so far. I want you to know that I think about you at least one thousand times a day. I picture us welcoming you into our family and become easily emotional at the joy I know you’ll bring. I want you to know I already feel so connected to you, and love you with every fiber of my heart. Feeling you moving in my belly is easily one of the best parts of day, and I try and envision just how you’re plyaing around in there. I can’t wait for your dad and sister to be able to feel. I want you to know that you will have a space of your own that was deliberately created with love just for you. I want you to know that every belly rub you feel is intentional with the hopes of radiating a loving, “I know you’re there, sweet boy”. And I want you to know I am absolutely giddy with excitement (and nerves!) for your arrival and the chance to finally be able to look into your eyes.
Despite how many boxes I’ve checked off your to-do list, I want you to know I love you very, very much, and that is essentially all the preparing I really need to do.
Let’s rock these next seventeen weeks together. We can’t wait to meet you.
Your biggest fan,