Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

I write this letter in my head as I lay here restlessly longing to be asleep. I think the word "difficult" would be an appropriate label for this pregnancy. I contemplate whether this could possibly be worth it, but then I think of your brothers and I know it will be. I know I will get a tremendous reward at the end (you) but I realize that there really isn't any recognition for what I go through to get that reward.

I, being a woman, can truly understand the terrible discomfort that my own mother went through to get me here. But do I really appreciate it? Not really. To truly show my appreciation for what she has done I should probably kneel down at her feet and thank her every day for giving me life, similarly to the way I thank the Lord for my life. Really, I owe my existence to both of them. Well, that's never happened. Not once. So I know, that you, being a man, never experiencing first hand pregnancy, will certainly never appreciate what I am doing for you, and that's okay.

So I write this letter, not to complain, but to explain my love for you, and all that I am going through for you. I go through all this before I even know you, yet I do it in faith that you will be worth it. Pregnancy is certainly the most selfless act of my life, never have I given up more of myself than when I am pregnant, and probably never again. I bring you into this world as a part of God's work, for truly he finds his eternal happiness through his children, as much as we do.

You were certainly ready to come here baby, as soon as we could get you here. I mean that in more ways than one. I filled my prescription of fertility pills and found out later that day I was already pregnant. You are the closest thing we have ever had to a surprise, not surprised that you were coming, but surprised that you came so easily. I laughed as I saw the test turn positive, as I was not expecting it. Three days after I found out about you I got sick. I had no time to prepare mentally or physically. I spent months feeling sick, throwing up, and spending night and day in bed. I nearly slept round the clock, and Isaac and Dad really took care of the babies most of the time.

The sickness and fatigue didn't really go away when I hoped they would, I think it was a solid 3 months of sickness. VERY shortly after I realized I was better, and right before Christmas I started into labor with you. And thus the bedrest began. To stop the labor, I had to take pills which gave me a racing heart, a hot face, and a terrible headache. I sat on the couch all day on Christmas, trying not to move, knowing I should be up at the hospital.

My doctor allowed me to temporarily go off of bedrest, but ordered me to stay at home and off my feet as much as possible. Also at this point I started receiving weekly shots in the hip, administered by your father, which sting like crazy, cause soreness for a day, make me sick, and encourage me to eat all day (not that I needed any help with that).

Son, I have a hard time breathing. Not because you are pushing on my ribs, but because my little body has a hard time taking in enough oxygen for the both of us. I also go to the bathroom 5-6 times in the night, and sometimes several times an hour during the day. I can't accomplish much even if I try, it takes me a long time to do simple tasks because I have to stop and rest so frequently. And of course, I'm not really sleeping very well at night since I get up so many times, I am very uncomfortable, and it feels like you are doing the riverdance every time I lay on my left side.

Basically my whole life is on hold until you are born, and I work so hard to keep you in longer so that you can have the very healthiest little body to live your life in. And some day, really not too far off in the future, I will have all this behind me, one more pregnancy under my belt. And if your delivery is anything like Dawson or Henry's, I will feel almost as good as new within hours of your birth.

So someday when you can read this letter I want you to remember how special you are. I want you to know how hard your mother (and father, although I do think he gets the easier role in this) worked just to bring you into this world. Again, I know you'll never really appreciate it, but maybe you can go easy on me for some of the mistakes that I am certain to make in raising you, just knowing that for a few months I gave my whole self to you, giving up my body, my health, my comfort, and my lifestyle. I love you baby, and am excited to meet you, but lets wait a few more weeks, okay?