Dear Peanut,
Well kiddo, we made it to full-term and beyond. Anytime's fine with me for you to make your arrival. Really. Anytime. I'll wait.
I do feel a little bit like a ticking time bomb. Everyone's on high alert and keep checking in to see if there's any news. If they only knew I was kicked back on the couch watching the Olympics and pondering a snack choice during their inquiry. I kind of feel like I should be doing something else. Something productive. Then I get over it. I have my waves of productivity these days, but this weekend was really about getting well. Your daddy and I have been sick for a couple weeks now and I definitely didn't think it was a good idea to go into labor exhausted from that. Labor's enough of an energy drainer. Of course, you're going to give me the quickest, most pain-free labor, riiight? Oh that's right, that would be the anesthesiologist...the pain-free part at least. Hopefully.
Anyways, your daddy is also getting antsy to meet you. It's rather funny. It's definitely hit him that you'll be here soon. He keeps saying "We'll have a little bundle of joy here soon." He wants so much to do everything right for you. I have no doubt in my mind that he's going to be an amazing dad. It's one of the things I knew about him when we first started dating. He is the most thoughtful, sweet and caring person I have ever met. Plus he's funny. He'll do anything to make you laugh. (And I'm sure you'll find him blowing raspberries on your tummy far more hilarious than I ever have.) Just try not to take (too much) advantage over the fact that you're not even born yet and you have him completely wrapped around your little finger. I can hardly wait to see the two of you together.
Everything's sort of slowing down as we finish up our to-do's (the absolute musts, at least) and it's becoming more and more real to us that you're on your way. We took our last class at the hospital last week. (By the way, the lullaby they play throughout the hospital when a baby is born becomes far more profound the closer we get to your arrival date...when it goes off when we're there in Labor & Delivery, I might actually sob.) I am convinced your kicking and rolling were a response to my same assessment that the class was, in fact, sponsored by Medela. Perhaps you were also as amused as your dad when the instructor took on a hands-on approach to showing each and every pregnant woman in the class (there were 20+ plus their husbands) how to encourage her baby to feed. I tried very hard to hold that doll exactly as she showed every girl before me, whether it was cradle hold or football hold, as to prevent such a violation of my personal space and the woman still insisted on groping your poor momma's boob. My favorite part of the class (I did have a favorite.) was learning about Kangaroo Care and just holding our doll like that warmed my little heart because I get to hold you soon and I just get beside myself thinking of that. I can be so stressed, but I think of holding you and being able to feel your heart beating against my chest and I feel peaceful. Nothing else matters. Just getting you here safe and getting to hold you.
You've been pretty active lately with your rolls and nudges and occasional jabs. Today, you're a bit mellow though, despite my pestering. I'm wondering if that means you've figured out that you've expanded your real estate as much as you can and perhaps it's time to "blow this popsicle stand," as your dad sometimes says. (I think this is a movie quote, but I have yet to identify the source.) Anyways, I know I'll miss seeing and feeling you move my belly. It's incredible knowing how far you've come and how big you've gotten. (Aha, there you go. You've responded to my poking by jabbing me in the bladder. Fair enough.) I'm so ready to meet you face to face though, kiddo. I want to snuggle with you and talk to you and watch you discover the world.
So, when you're ready, we're ready. (Or as ready as we'll ever be.)
I love you, little girl.
Love,
Mommy
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