Thursday, October 6, 2011

Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

You'll have to excuse me, but you don't yet have a name. Or a sex for that matter. I just wanted to write and tell you how much I love you already. No, you aren't technically conceived. A little part of me isn't sure you ever will be. It doesn't matter though. I need to tell you how much love I have for you already.

I dream of the day that I will hold you and rock you to sleep. I will sing you (off-key) lullabies and even when I wish you would sleep through the night, I will cherish the 3 a.m. feedings.

I imagine taking you to the cemetery every October 2nd so we can send balloons to your big brother in heaven. You are still with him right now, but when the time is right I hope you will join me down here. We will go to the pumpkin patch and drink apple cider slushies and pick out the perfect family of pumpkins. One for each of us- daddy, mommy, Caleb, you, and the puppies. This year there are only 5, but maybe next year it will be 6?

And Christmas-time with you will be amazing. I can't wait to experience things through your eyes and create traditions the way my Nana and Uncle did with me. I tell your daddy otherwise, but the truth is I know I will spoil you. I'm sure I will go overboard with the gifts. But know that my love doesn't come in the form of toys. My love for you comes from the bottom of my heart. It's here now...even though you aren't. You are loved and wanted so much. That will never change.

You're probably wondering why I am writing this letter to you so far in advance. Maybe it's a little crazy, but then again your mommy is a little weird. The fact is that I never, ever want you to doubt how much you were wanted. I spent a lot of time when I was younger wondering why my parents didn't want me. I never want you to feel that way. I pray for you every single night. I want you more than money or success or any other worldly thing. Everything I do in my life is so that things can be perfect when you finally get here. Not that I'm promising perfection. I will screw up. I will make mistakes, I will lose my patience and I will burn dinner sometimes. I'm not really good at sports or video games or doing make-up. I probably won't be the cool mom and you may go through some years when you think I am the enemy. I will still love you and will still want you in my life just as much then as I do now.

So, when you do finally join your dad and I and you are old enough to read this, I hope you will see how precious you are to me. Life is hard. You will get hurt and there will be plenty of things that happen that make you question who you are and what you are doing in this world. I can't prevent that. One thing I never want you to question, though, is how I feel about you.


Your Mom