I’ve felt your hiccups. I’ve chased your hand all over Moomie’s tummy, with my lips. I’ve put my ear on her belly and heard that sweet, pulsing sound of your heart beating. I’ve read aloud stories to you and felt your kicks of approval. We played some of the songs we love and felt either your thumb stick up or down. I’ve played some songs on the guitar that you got wild about. I’ve told you a few things about your late aunt, saving some more for when you’re here with us.
I learned a few things along the way – putting a crib together and gambling that Amazon’s definition of “extra crib screws” would fit the crib we inherited from your cousin Kaelyn when I lost the screws that came with it; moving our heavy mattress to make room for your crib; installing a car seat base on our reliable Swan (our 06 white Accord, because all the two cars I’ve owned have been named after Jennifer Morrison characters); taking the fabric parts out of the car seat and the Pack-N-Play bassinet so they can go into the washing machine so you can sleep on clean sheets when we take you home; make space in our horribly cluttered hall closet (damn proud of the finished product); massage Moomie’s feet and legs as you grew in her belly, as we come home from nearly nightly walks to help her manage her GD.
The last 34 weeks have seen a mix of ups and downs. More ups than downs, with the downs really tough to swallow and get over. But knowing you’ll be coming around soon makes each and every down worth trudging and powering through. Knowing you’re going to be our pride and joy makes every single thing wrong with the world worth fighting against so you can live in a world less wrong than the one we lived in. Knowing you’ll be here makes us want to take the chances we used to never entertain because you’re worth every chance and risk.
I think I’ve learned so much about life in the past 34 weeks, my love. Maybe not as much as Moomie, as she was just a machine about learning all about what would be best for you and it’s hard to keep up. I won’t be perfect, but I’ll make sure I’m only yours. Well, yours and Moomie’s. I know there are at most 6 more weeks to go, but I am already so excited to welcome you to our crazy, beautiful world, Hannah Rose.