I know it's been a while. I can't say that I'm at a "loss" for words but really, my heart's been so steady and peaceful it's just hard to spout off like I can other times. The biggest development in my life? I quit working. And I could go on and on and on about that, and perhaps I will sometime, but it's been an enormous blessing. The weeks are passing so quickly, so joyously, so comfortably, and it's been absolutely priceless.
I have a very special love for you, you know. It's not particularly giddy. If I'm giddy about anything, it's the fact that the last installment of the Harry Potter films comes out in a mere two more weeks - I may cry more at the end of that than at the end of my pregnancy. (You'll understand someday ...) But what I feel for you is too serious to be giddy about. It's too cerebral, too real, and too sobering.
This is about so much more than cuddling your tiny, soft little body, more than chasing you around the yard, more than dressing you up for your first day of school (if I can even bring myself to put you in regular school.) All of that stuff is fine. But you're about to make me more aware of myself than perhaps I've ever been. If there's something I don't like about myself, it has to be fixed ... because I don't ever want you to observe that it's okay to settle for mediocrity when you don't have to.
I just can't be giddy about you. You are not my little toy doll. You are not a cute little pet to me. You are my child ... you are the next chapter in a new generation. You will grow up and you must grow up, even if it's sad to watch your squishy little arms turn into real tools of change. I love you too much to feel like I have some weird right to keep you caged.
God has plans for you, things He needs you to do and accomplish that will set the course for the rest of humankind. So listen to Him. Heck - listen to Him more than you listen to me and Dad!
And for a little practical advice -
My uterus? It's not a discoteque. You squirm and kick me like you're trying to break out or something! I love it, because I love knowing you're okay and happy and toasty warm in there. I don't love it so much when it just starts to feel like you're scraping against my insides.
Dad recently got to feel you too. You kicked him pretty good. And while lots of people out there would coo, "Oh, looks like someone is Daddy's baby!" I know the truth - you were just trying to get comfortable, responding to your surroundings. You're not aware of much, but you are aware of more than we could ever imagine at the same time. I'll try hard not to label you, put words in your mouth, make you wear stupid onesies that say, "Mommy's princess," or something ...
... maybe I'll find you a "Mommy's little wizard" one ...
I love you, kidlet. Have a good day in there. Kick me all you want.
