Dear Babycakes,
Man, I have No Idea what you are up to in there. Last week, the midwife said I'm dilating, even just lying here on the couch. And right now I can feel you moving around—it feels like you are trying to swim right out.
When I woke up this morning, I had that same eyes-snapping-open feeling I had the day after I found out you were trying to make a hasty exit. Cramps and racing heart and sweaty palms. In fact, I've been having cramps on and off for a couple of days. I have to think that maybe, maybe—no, surely—we are a little bit, or a lot bit, closer than we were even just four days ago.
I did not really bring myself to think about the end of pregnancy for this entire pregnancy. Because you spend so much time holding this baby in, hoping things get baked to the right degree, hoping against everything for sheer normalcy.
I didn't think about what it would feel like to be a ticking time bomb. About to go at any minute. But yet, here we are. It really could be any minute.Your dad went to a basketball game tonight and I so wanted him to. We need our friend time and time out of the house (He might as well have it, even if I can't), but on the other hand I want to keep him tethered close to me, because I cannot do this without him and even though I know the odds are it will take awhile, we have family history and your impatience to know that it might also happen kind of fast.
But again: I am working on my resolution to Let Go. It could be days. It could be weeks. But probably not.
Soon, soon we will see your sweet face and we will truly meet you for the first time. Because even though you and I have been one for months, we will start a whole new chapter, where we are two separate beings, and your dad and I (and your fursiblings) can learn all about who you are. And that, my child, THAT is what is most exciting of all.
love,
Mama
