Monday, September 17, 2012

A Letter to My Girl

Dear Eliza,

I can’t believe the moment is almost here—the moment when we finally get to see your sweet face and hear your (hopefully) strong cry. That is if I can hear you over my own crying and see you through my own tears.

It’s taken nine months for you to grow big and strong enough to come out and meet the world. But it’s taken much longer than that, sweet girl, for me to become your mama.

I guess this is where I should warn you that your Daddy and I might be a little older than the parents of some of your friends (though we’re happy that we likely won’t be the only parents at Kindergarten drop off in our mid-forties).

Many years and tears and prayers got me to this day. Waiting to find your Daddy and then being amazed at how perfect he is for me. Together waiting for the news that you were on the way. We loved and lost your big brother along the way, and as much as we miss him, we know that he helped bring you to us, too.

We already love you so much more than we could ever believe. Everyone tells us that what we feel now is nothing compared to how we’ll feel after we actually get to meet you. I can’t imagine loving you more, but I’m more than willing to accept the challenge.

I’m going to miss having you inside of me. To feel your (not so) little kicks and rolls. Your sweet little hiccups that pop-pop away. The way you make my stomach dance—I could watch it for hours. And, selfishly, just getting to have you all to myself, 24-7. Being pregnant with you has been such a gift. I pray that God will write these moments on my heart so I will never forget.

But it’s time. It’s time for you to come out and meet the world. For me to make the mental leap that this little alien inside of me is really you. A real baby who will stretch and cry and eat and dirty more diapers than we can imagine. A real little human who will grow and change and become your own person. I think that’s what we’re most excited about—to see who you are and who you will become. To know you and have the privilege to watch you grow and shape you along the way.

So let’s do this, baby girl. Try not to be too scared when you come out—conditions are going to be quite different than what you’re used to. But Daddy and I will be right there and we’ll take good care of you. We’re SO excited to meet you!

All my love,

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