Dear Unborn Child ---
Tomorrow we will meet -- oh, the benefits of having a scheduled c-section. I have some mixed emotions right now. I am dying to meet you for sure, I really want to know if you are indeed only elbows and knees. I want to know if you have a ton of hair judging from my raging heartburn. And I want to know what color your eyes are. (But this is not my first rodeo, so I know that I really won't know that for several months.) I want to know if you have chubby cheeks, your daddy's nose, or my feet. (Sorry, if you have the last one.) I've gotten to see some images of you via ultrasound, but I've got to tell you -- they were not flattering. Actually, those 3D images were really quite disturbing. But, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt becasue we haven't produced an ugly child yet. We are quite a good looking bunch, if I do say so myself -- but, no pressure. I think you'll fit in quite fine. Incidentally, I think they should stop the practice of 3D ultrasounds altogether. What they should be offering new mothers are future projections of what your child will look like at, say, 3 months. Yeah, that's the time you start looking less fragile and scary and easier to handle. Yep, if I had a picture of what you are going to look like in November I think it would cut down my nerves considerably.
But, I also have some sympathy from your point of view. Although you have quite outgrown the warm space I've given you for the past 9 months (judging by the fact that I get motion sick just feeling you inside me) I bet you might be a little apprehensive yourself. If what the experts say about your acute hearing inside the womb is correct, then you have heard the tantrums, the fits, and the uncontrollable crying. (But in my defense, it has been a very uncomfortable summer.) And you have probably heard the daily nagging to "make your bed, brush your teeth, clean your room" and the threats of the naughty spot and the taking away of privileges. I'm not promising that things are going to change around here and I guarantee that the noise will be even more deafening than before. But in the midst of the chaos that will be your future home, I hope you have heard the giggles, the singing, and the "I love yous." Focus on those and the fact that all 5 of us can't wait to meet you, little tummy brother.
See you tomorrow!
Love,
Mom
