One of the exciting things about getting ready for this monumental occasion is fixing up hospital bags for Taylor and myself. It seems like such a big thing - placing trial size (AKA stolen from a hotel and saved) shampoo and conditioner bottles in a toiletry bag, getting clothes for us to wear while we're there, batteries for the camera and a remote charger, my journal, and even a pack of cards - and I look at it sitting there and wonder if I've even done this right. Will I forget something? Probably. The pack of cards crack me up because I try to imagine us sitting there between contractions playing Gin Rummy or something else as inane, and I just can't see it. I will probably be too keyed up for that sort of distraction, but every childbirth book tells me to bring cards and books and such, so I'm following their lead.
The best part is packing the little diapers, a hat, and a soft gown for you. I imagine you bundled up in a blanket coming home, raw and tired from the biggest adventure of your just-days-old life. We will know what you look like. This apartment will glow with the newness of you. Everything will change.
Today your Father and I went to the doctor for a last minute ultrasound because we switched hospitals. Being 38 weeks, it made for some fascinating photography. Supposedly, you are almost eight pounds. Eight pounds? You, my little tiny thing? Is it possible? We saw your fingers, your rapidly-beating heart, and she even switched it over to 4D and allowed us to see a brief glimpse of your face. It was all so surreal and strange, but I saw a nose I could (and will) kiss forever. I can’t believe I was allowed to peek into your world like that today.
Even though these end-days have been coming for nine months, it still seems like a sudden event. I feel like I am running breathlessly to catch up to all I have to do to prepare, and sometimes, I just sit in your room and wish it here. The whole experience over and done with so we can begin our lives. But I know the climax is soon - and it’s the most important part. It’s when we walk across the coals to meet you. It’s your grand entrance, my massive trial of will, your Father’s incredible role as coach and provider, and it will be the ultimate rite of passage that cements our little family together.
As I write this, the nesting urge is once again upon me. It has already caused me to archive letters and clean out drawers, sweep, clean, and tidy up every corner of this place. It is urging me on to do more to prepare for you and I must go and do it or I will go crazy. I can’t believe how much you have taken over my body and mind. I never thought I would be such a slave to pregnancy but I am, and truthfully, I’ve loved every minute of it. Even the creaking and lack of sleep and weight gain. I know you will be worth every bit of it, and I can’t wait to hold you and say hello.
Stay warm, stay safe, and see you really soon. And I mean, really, really soon.
I love you.