10:55 a.m. - 2006-05-08
(written April 17, 2006)
Dear Tiny Baby Inside My Tummy (henceforth known as TBIMT),
Tomorrow you will be one month's gestation old. I'm a day early in getting this letter to you, and you better appreciate it, because it is probably the one time in your life that anything will ever happen early. Since you are partly composed of your dad's genes, I'm fully expecting you to be at least one, and maybe two weeks late. And just because it would annoy me (lord knows that the motivating factor in most of your dad's decisions), you'll probably be born right on Christmas Day. That's ok. You'll be the best Christmas present anybody ever got. Besides, I've heard it's a pretty esteemed birthday, historically speaking.
Let's move on to the data, since that's what I'm good at: At one month old your heart should start beating, even though it's almost impossible to hear or see. Your heart, it's beating. I'm amazed already. Your inner ear is also starting to form, so I hope the little uterus and precious few milliliters of amniotic fluid are acting as earmuffs for you, because I gotta tell you, your mama can get pretty darn loud from time to time. OK, I'll level with you. Your mama is pretty darn loud most of the time. I hope you can sleep through a train wreck after you're born.
Your daddy is so excited about you he's calling several times a day to ask me how I'm feeling. At this point, the answer is generally either hungry or sleepy. I'll tell you, the night we found out about you, unofficially, of course, we used an over the counter EPT. We got it in the big city, and drove all the way home not talking about it. Your daddy was playing with the XM Radio and heard something by John Williams, then got to talking about what awesome movie themes Mr. Williams composed. When we got home your dad put a John Williams CD on, and turned it up really loud on the Star Wars Theme (the Darth Vader Song who's name I can't remember), even though he's not a huge Star Wars fan, he just loves John Williams. I went directly to the bathroom and watched the test as it started turning. It was so faint at first I couldn't believe it was really there, so I screamed at your dad and he came in and looked at it, then just gave me a big hug. We went back into the living room, and sat and snuggled in the chair listening to the Star Wars Theme, too happy and scared to even say it out loud. Your dad now has that song downloaded on his phone as my ringer. Everybody thinks he's just being funny about me being the evil one, but I know better. And that's why you don't have a chance of being anything but a HUGE dork. Sorry about that. To balance it out, you should be tall.
Love,
Your Mama
