I wish you could have seen your oldest brother’s face when we told him about you.
“There’s a baby in Mommy’s tummy,” we said.
He beamed. His face positively lit up. We had been talking about it as a family for a while. Oboy, who will be four when you meet him, asked about you regularly. He was the most verbal advocate for your creation, even petitioning God in his prayers before bed to give you to us. His face when we told him God had put you in my tummy to start growing and be ready to come out? Pure joy. But I’m sure it does not begin to compare with how happy he will be when he holds you for the first time.
O, the holding. Baby, there will be so much holding when you arrive in October, you won’t even know what to do with yourself. OBrother, who will be two and half when you are born, will want in on the action too. (Don’t worry, we will always be there to help him.) OBrother doesn’t have quite the understanding that the oldest does, but he seems to think about you often. Every time he points to my stomach and says “beebee” my heart melts, and I’m sure yours would too if you could hear him. He also has a strange fascination with pulling up my shirt and rubbing my tummy, which is awkward but adorable. I have a feeling you two will be fast friends.
And Daddy. Daddy is already your biggest fan. Funny story, he knew about you before I did. And not in the intuitive “I think you’re pregnant” kind of way, but quite literally. I didn’t wait long enough to check the pregnancy test before another child was urgently calling me (this might be something you should get used to.) so there it sat on the master bathroom counter quietly with its two pink lines until Daddy came in and noticed. That was a funny conversation.
“When were you going to tell me?” He asked. And so it was on a Friday afternoon in early February that Daddy informed me I was pregnant with you.
Today the two of us – you and I – are flying to Texas for a blogging conference and can I just tell you? I am so excited to have you along with me! This Sunday, if we feel up to it, we are going to run a half marathon around the city of Dallas, but trust me. I will listen to you and my body and we will do what we can. Training runs have quadrupled in difficulty since you joined me. I’m not complaining, promise. I understand that my body’s primary allegiance is to you and not to the 13 miles I am going to try to run. Although? Can I complain really quick, sweet little one? The throwing up thing is getting really, really old. I mean, I know you need All of The Hormones for your growing and things, but mercy. The list of public places I have had to lean over an puke in is getting a little ridiculous. I know they say that this is a first trimester thing so we are almost out of the woods (we are 10.5wk now) but if my memory serves, there is no magic corner that I turn at 12 weeks. It tends to fade away around 15 weeks.
You are sure making your presence known – which is uncomfortable but also good, because there was a strange month there in December of 2012 where, for the first time in four and a half years, I was neither pregnant nor nursing anyone and my body was all “Huh? What do I even do with this independence?” Barfing or not, I’m so glad you’re here with me, cooking along and getting ready to meet your
loud crazy exciting loving family.
Now let’s go take a nap, baby. I’m freakin exhausted.