My dear firstborn,
From the visit to our doctor today, it seems clear that we are in our final days of sharing this unique and precious physical connection; of you living inside of me. The doctor said that I am close to being 2 cm dilated and that your head is quite low. My body also tells me something is changing. I am getting more frequent cramps and practice contractions and the random tears and hot flashes tell me my hormones are on a roller-coaster ride. You are definitely readying yourself to make your grand entrance into the world!
Being your first “home” on this earth has been an honour, a privilege, and a joy; and, if I’m honest, it’s also been a nuisance and a pain at times. I have yet to see your lovely face, but over these past 9 months, you have already taught me so much.
You have shown me how to live in faith. For a good few months after we first saw that little pink line on the pregnancy test, we had to trust that that pink line was telling the truth. We had no other indication of your existence. And yet we had to adjust our lifestyles and thinking to include you.
You have taught me the importance of caring for my body and listening to its needs. For it was no longer just my own body. If I tried to ignore my hunger, you would be sure to make a fuss, punching and kicking me until I went and got us some nourishment. Same thing went for heeding my bladder’s signals.
This process of preparing for your arrival has been akin to taking a crash course in human anatomy, fetal development, psychology, house-purging, baby supplies and theology all rolled into one. Your daddy and I have had countless moments of being in wonder, as well as wondering, as we’ve encountered new information and new questions. Experiences that will continue for the rest of our lives, I’m sure.
I have also learned some things about you during these months. You are a food-loving child. I already mentioned how you’d make it impossible for me to stay in bed in the mornings when you were hungry. I’m not sure if this is something you like, but while I have carried you, I have sure liked eating fruit. You also have this cute tendency to hiccup. You’d hiccup at least twice a day – often enough for us to christen you with the nickname, “Hiccups.” You love to move around – especially around 10 or 11pm. Before my belly got too small for you, you would often flip from side to side and I’d feel your little feet and hands poke out here and there. Now that we’re nearing your transition into the outside world, you sometimes make my belly all lopsided. You amuse me quite a bit.
In the last couple weeks, your daddy and I have been praying for your birth. We ask God that it would be a grace-encompassed experience – for you, and for us. And of course, we continue to pray that you would know just how very loved you are.
My heart is full these days. Full of excitement at the thought of seeing your beautiful face and holding your little hand really soon. But I also feel a tinge of sadness. For once you are born, I will never have you all to myself the same way. And a piece of my heart will forever live outside of my body. But there is so much that awaits your discovery. And since you are our first child, there will be much that we will discover together.
So, my dear one, come whenever you are ready. We have all been eagerly awaiting you. Welcome.