Dear Baby,
I want to clear some things up with you.
We are now 26 1/2 weeks pregnant! I can't believe it. They days are long but somehow they just keep going by faster all the time. Our third trimester together is within reach, which means you'll be here in my arms before I know it. I couldn't be happier about that. It's so much more fun to carry a baby with your arms than with your belly. It just is.
I am very busy during the day chasing your big brother around. He is a ball of energy that is too smart for his own good. He keeps me on my toes and makes sure I am good and tired at the end of the day. He will be a great big brother to you. He kisses my tummy and gives it hugs and always wants to see baby. Except for now he calls you "daydee", which is very confusing because he is indeed capable of the "B" sound. But daydee you are and you'll stay until you make your appearance and we can give you a name. Who knows, maybe longer.
You may one day look back, as I did with my mom, and realize that our pregnancy together didn't yield many blog posts, journal entries or belly pictures. You may come to find I don't actually remember the exact day that I knew you were in there. I don't remember my due date sometimes and I don't have a countdown of days until you come. You may look back someday and feel like you're less special than your big brother, because your big brother had many of those things when he was in my tummy.
I was actually warned about this. It's almost a running joke in the family that your aunt Jessi has a very sweet baby book and I don't. Also that her first steps were on Easter and no one knows exactly when mine were. I have felt the sting of the younger sibling syndrome -- feeling just slightly less important. I have been told that it just happens when you have more than one child. You get busy, life gets in the way. You just don't have the time or the energy to put into the keepsakes that you once did. It's just hard to keep up and you're lucky if you scrawl down a few things on a napkin after about baby #3. I felt like I was being told that I would care less about you than I did about Nehemiah. I fought long and hard with my momma about this, and my pride screamed loud that I would make an exquisite baby book and detailed blog posts for all of my babies. Alas, here we are.
But let me make something clear to you.
It took me this long to learn why it is this way. It's not by my lack of time or energy. My first pregnancy was really just that: my first pregnancy. It was an incredible thing that I had never experienced before -- my body changing, creating life before my very eyes. I couldn't help but to write it all down, because the awe consumed me. I was full of emotion: excitement, fear, joy, insecurity, anxiety, suspense... I had no idea what to expect with each new twist and turn. I was looking forward to meeting your brother, yes, just as I am with you. But it was the thrill of the experience that hurled me into action with my writing. As selfish as this is going to come out, I want you to understand: my first pregnancy was so much more about changes in me than it was about your brother.
This time, there are no countdowns, no blog posts, no journal entries. Seldom Instagrams. No big shopping list of of baby gadgets. But baby, I couldn't be more excited that you're coming. Your daddy and I talked and planned and dreamed about you before you were created. We were so filled with joy the day we found out you were really in there. We spend lots of our time watching you kick around and day dreaming about what it'll be like when you come. Our Valentine's Day dinner was spent in conversation about your name- who you will be, when you will come, what life will be like. You are already so loved, baby. You were planned for and prayed for and not for one second should you think anything less.
I don't feel anxious about your arrival like I did your brother's. I am not counting down the days because I am in no rush; you will come on the day you are ready to come. No sooner, no later. I will patiently wait in peace for that day to come, knowing that it's happening, barring my feelings on the matter. I simply feel happy. Peacefully anticipating.
I want you to know that baby. I want you to know that you are special. You are unique and precious and I am humbled to be the vessel that God chose to bring your spirit into life. You are loved, wanted, treasured. We are excited, privileged, thankful.
See you soon, baby.
Love, Momma
I want to clear some things up with you.
We are now 26 1/2 weeks pregnant! I can't believe it. They days are long but somehow they just keep going by faster all the time. Our third trimester together is within reach, which means you'll be here in my arms before I know it. I couldn't be happier about that. It's so much more fun to carry a baby with your arms than with your belly. It just is.
I am very busy during the day chasing your big brother around. He is a ball of energy that is too smart for his own good. He keeps me on my toes and makes sure I am good and tired at the end of the day. He will be a great big brother to you. He kisses my tummy and gives it hugs and always wants to see baby. Except for now he calls you "daydee", which is very confusing because he is indeed capable of the "B" sound. But daydee you are and you'll stay until you make your appearance and we can give you a name. Who knows, maybe longer.
You may one day look back, as I did with my mom, and realize that our pregnancy together didn't yield many blog posts, journal entries or belly pictures. You may come to find I don't actually remember the exact day that I knew you were in there. I don't remember my due date sometimes and I don't have a countdown of days until you come. You may look back someday and feel like you're less special than your big brother, because your big brother had many of those things when he was in my tummy.
I was actually warned about this. It's almost a running joke in the family that your aunt Jessi has a very sweet baby book and I don't. Also that her first steps were on Easter and no one knows exactly when mine were. I have felt the sting of the younger sibling syndrome -- feeling just slightly less important. I have been told that it just happens when you have more than one child. You get busy, life gets in the way. You just don't have the time or the energy to put into the keepsakes that you once did. It's just hard to keep up and you're lucky if you scrawl down a few things on a napkin after about baby #3. I felt like I was being told that I would care less about you than I did about Nehemiah. I fought long and hard with my momma about this, and my pride screamed loud that I would make an exquisite baby book and detailed blog posts for all of my babies. Alas, here we are.
But let me make something clear to you.
It took me this long to learn why it is this way. It's not by my lack of time or energy. My first pregnancy was really just that: my first pregnancy. It was an incredible thing that I had never experienced before -- my body changing, creating life before my very eyes. I couldn't help but to write it all down, because the awe consumed me. I was full of emotion: excitement, fear, joy, insecurity, anxiety, suspense... I had no idea what to expect with each new twist and turn. I was looking forward to meeting your brother, yes, just as I am with you. But it was the thrill of the experience that hurled me into action with my writing. As selfish as this is going to come out, I want you to understand: my first pregnancy was so much more about changes in me than it was about your brother.
This time, there are no countdowns, no blog posts, no journal entries. Seldom Instagrams. No big shopping list of of baby gadgets. But baby, I couldn't be more excited that you're coming. Your daddy and I talked and planned and dreamed about you before you were created. We were so filled with joy the day we found out you were really in there. We spend lots of our time watching you kick around and day dreaming about what it'll be like when you come. Our Valentine's Day dinner was spent in conversation about your name- who you will be, when you will come, what life will be like. You are already so loved, baby. You were planned for and prayed for and not for one second should you think anything less.
I don't feel anxious about your arrival like I did your brother's. I am not counting down the days because I am in no rush; you will come on the day you are ready to come. No sooner, no later. I will patiently wait in peace for that day to come, knowing that it's happening, barring my feelings on the matter. I simply feel happy. Peacefully anticipating.
I want you to know that baby. I want you to know that you are special. You are unique and precious and I am humbled to be the vessel that God chose to bring your spirit into life. You are loved, wanted, treasured. We are excited, privileged, thankful.
See you soon, baby.
Love, Momma
