Blubber Mush Wah Sap AHHHH

Dear Baby X,

One of the first things you should know about me is that I'm not a love letter type of person. I don't write newsletters, and though he has been the light of my life for the last five years, I rarely even talk about your brother. This is not because he doesn't provide me with viable blog fodder, believe me. Your brother is insanely funny and marvelous. But..you know. He's 5. He can't give me permission to put his life out there on the internet, and there are enough sticky threads involved in his particular situation that I'm extremely careful about what I say on here. However, you are not quite here yet and as such, I feel rightly justified in exploiting you. Sorry about that. Plus, with your acrobatics lately, I am so fully conscious of your presence now that I've recently had a running dialogue in my head of things I want to say to you.

Secondly, you DO have a name. I choose to call you Baby X here because doesn't that make your grand entrance that much grander? I can't wait to reveal your name. Your grandparents hate it, by the way. It reminds them of cats. You'll understand later, and hopefully you'll tell them to stuff it, and even more hopefully you will NEVER allow them to call you by any kind of nickname. Seriously, kid, your dad and I are giving you your name for a reason, please don't let anyone butcher it. I feel so strongly about this that your father calls me a control freak. He obviously doesn't know what he's talking about. Men.

When I had your brother, it was just me and him. I was so young, so alone in so many ways, that it felt like me and him against the world. My love for him was so profound that I wondered if there would ever be enough space in my heart to love anyone else. I learned over the years how foolish that notion was.

Since meeting and falling in love with your father, I have learned that my heart can encompass spans I didn't know could fit in this universe. How cheesy is that? It's completely true, though. Sometimes it takes my breath away to acknowledge that I am capable of more love than I thought anyone ever felt in the world. Especially now, with 1/3 of my heart centered in my uterus, I am blown away daily by everything I feel for our family.

You excite and entertain us daily. Your dad, who fancies himself the toughest dude in the suburbs, becomes absolutely GIDDY when he feels you move. He pouts his lips (that I sincerely hope you inherit, Dear God, they are gorgeous) and whines when I poke you through my belly. He's afraid I'll bother you. He's so incredibly cautious and protective of my growing body, and you, that it melts me into little mushy puddles of sap on an almost hourly basis. You have rendered him speechless on a few occasions, something that I thought totally impossible to do. You'll understand when you meet him. Your pops, he can talk. A lot. Sometimes you just want to staple those beautiful lips shut, I swear.

I'm pretty sure you're getting the best big brother anyone's ever had. He's so amazing, so funny, so unbelievably bright and talented, all at once shockingly funny and incredibly unique. He is thrilled for your arrival. I can see ideas dancing in his little head - I think the concept of having a little one to boss around and assist in tormenting his parents just delights him. And, like he says, babies are just so darned cute he could BEAT THEM. Um. Sometimes I mumble, and thus Donovan repeats what he THINKS I said, and cannot be corrected after he realizes he's said something funny. Kids are weird like that.

This world you're coming into, babe, it terrifies me. It's changed so drastically from when I was little, which was really not long ago at all. We're only a few months away from the election that I think will sink or save this country, and the possible outcomes scare the bejesus out of me. But however cynical I fancy myself, when I think of kids like your brother and you growing up and affecting the world, I still harbor hope. When I think of the blessings you'll be born with, I have hope.

You couldn't ask for a better family, in some ways. Your grandparents are some of the greatest people you'll ever meet. My mom is a little crazy, sure, and she loves a good conspiracy theory, but she will love you till the ends of the world and beyond, and every time she calls and begs me to take you to the doctor because she doesn't like the look of your spit, just know it's because she loves you so damn much. And your fathers parents are some of the most respectable, inspirational people I've ever met. Their innate kindness, generosity and wisdom seemingly know no bounds. Though I've only know them for a few years now, I attribute a great part of who I am today to the advice they passed on to me. Your grandfather tells the WORST jokes, and you will love him for it. Your dad's mom will get the silliest ideas in her head and pass them on like they're fact. In case you ever wonder, this is where your dad gets it from. And my dad? Well, baby, I didn't know it for a long time, but my dad is kind-souled and brave, and if you inherit the things I inherited from him, you'll be a lucky dude. Your dad and I have siblings and cousins that alternately inspire and crack me up every time I see them. They will undoubtedly be some of your favorite people on earth in a few years.

We are unbelievably excited to have you, kid. I feel like I know you from your tumbles and kicks already, but I know you'll continue to amaze and surprise me for years to come. Just hold tight for a few (like 15, ideally?) more weeks and we'll be together. And me, your dad, and your brother, and just about everyone else we know can hardly wait.

Love,

Your kind of insane, but ultimately well-intentioned mother.

Comments

[Theresa]

this is simply adorable.

[Jackie]

Everytime I read one of your blog entries, I feel like I totally wish you lived near me and we knew each other in real life and could hang out. You rock! And I think this was your best writing yet! Of course, now I wish I was pregnant...