Dear Baby Girl,
You and I will only share my body for less than three weeks. Half the time, I think “Wow! Time flies!” And I think how much I’ll miss feeling your kicks and flutters.
However, more often then not, I reflect upon this and think: “My back hurts. My hands and feet are swollen. I’m hot. I just want to go on a long sweaty run and be sore from a hard Pilates class and not feel breathless after walking up a flight of stairs. I'm never comfortable, I hate having dealt with an on-again-off-again battle with insomnia for the past nine months. Oh, and I am constantly cranky.” Then I think: Please please please please do not stay in there for three more weeks.
What can I say? Pregnancy makes me temperamental.
I can say though, there there have been some really fun things going on around here lately in preparation for you.
First of all, we moved into a new house. Our very own forever home, complete with a lovely backyard and an entire room dedicated to laundry. While your arrival wasn’t the sole reason for our purchase, you definitely helped speed the process up. Your father has been tirelessly painting your room a beautiful lavender and pale pink color, installing closet shelves and sliding baskets, and putting together your crib. We’ve been finishing the unpacking, tidying the house and (my favorite) organizing. I’ve washed your diapers, set them in your dresser and am currently sorting and washing the mounds of pink baby clothes ready for you to wear. (I hope you like pink kid, we have a lot of it around here), and filling your bookcase with board books, receiving blankets and handmade burb rags. In an ideal world, I will have a chance to prepare food for the first couple of postpartum weeks so that my time can be spent recovering and snuggling and loving on you and your big sisters. Basically, we are trying to make as much headway as possible before your arrival. Nothing makes your momma feel more prepared for a baby than a clean and organized home, a full fridge and no loose ends to worry about. Or at least as few loose ends as possible to worry about.
Second, we bought a new car, a minivan to be exact. Now, not only do we now have a safe, reliable form of transportation, but we have room for all three car seats. And as a bonus, we can listen to music from my phone instead of our old scratched CD’s. Plus, the doors automatically open. You might not think it’s so cool right away, but trust me; it is.
Lastly, besides your father consantly giving you SF Giant updates, your sisters have started reading and talking to you. Your oldest sister, Daisy, has decided to call you Elsa. This is a much improved name after her earlier insistence of naming you Thomas George. (Don't worry, while your father and I haven't
agreed decided upon a name for you, neither of these are in the running.) Daisy has also started narrating our day to you - plus, she is very patient to explain the rules of pretend. She explains the roles, she is Momma and Lily, your middle sister, always plays Daddy. While you, sweet little babe, will get to play the dog. Speaking of Lily, she loves to cover my stomach in kisses and hugs and babbles directly to my belly button. You constantly squirm in response and Lily laughs every time she feels your kicks. I cannot wait to see the shenanigans you three sisters will come up with in a few years.
In pregnancy news, you are growing perfectly. You are positioned well and have been slowly dropping over the past week. Your sisters and I love listening to your heartbeat each week. They think it sounds like a unicorn. (And I'll be honest, I think they also really like the animal crackers doled out at the start of the appointment and the princess stickers given at the end.) I am craving hamburgers, sweet corn on the cob, ice water (well, mostly just ice) and big leafy salads. I have always preferred salads to heavy meals, but this pregnancy with a summer due date has been a completely new ball game. Lets just say I eat ice chips like nobody’s business. In fact, my favorite way to end the day is to sit down with a giant mason jar full of partially melted ice. Heaven on earth I tell you.
I look forward to meeting you, my littlest Rossini. I can’t wait to hold you and snuggle you and memorize your every feature. In the meantime, please do not rush to grow too quickly. There are only three more week of this time together alone. Let’s savor them: you and me.