Five days ago we didn't know if you were a boy or a girl. We didn't know you had your Grandpa's forehead, your brother's hands, and your mama's feet. We didn't know the sound of your cry or the softness of your skin and although your name had been decided upon it was not official; you were simply "The Baby."
For the past eight months we've been anticipating and preparing for your arrival. You have a bassinet in our room, the stroller you and your brother will share has been assembled, and there are clean clothes waiting for you in the dresser. When I thought about your birth I always wondered exactly how it would happen. Would I go into labor in the middle of the night or while I was at work? Would your Daddy be home to drive me to the hospital or would I need to call Busha or ask Tanya to transport me? Would the labor be quick or would I have hours worth of contractions? I thought about alot of the details but what I never considered is that following your birth you'd be whisked away and placed in an isolette full of wires and tubes. I never thought that I'd spend my first few days as your Mommy unable to hold you at will or rock you when you were fussy. I didn't realize I'd only be able to hold your hands and replace your nuk through two tiny portholes. These things I didn't consider.
Tonight your Daddy and brother and I went out to eat. We talked about you, I snuggled your brother, and I cried. Five days ago we became a family of four, but we have yet to all be in the same room together. Because of this you'd think that dinner with just us three would feel normal. But it doesn't. It doesn't at all. You are a part of us now and when you aren't there we all feel a void. We need you home. We need you with us. Please keep fighting little guy, please get stronger, please come home soon.
I love you,
I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I can't come home at night to snuggle you in bed. I'm sorry I keep appearing from behind those big wooden doors only to retreat there again a couple of hours later. I'm sorry I have to kiss you goodbye after our visits and blow kisses through the window. I'm sorry that you had to hold my shirt last night repeating Mama, Mama, over and over to get yourself to sleep. I'm sorry that you spent our dinner tonight clinging to me instead of eating. I'm sorry.
I miss you so much. I miss hearing you make airplane noises. I miss telling you not to throw your plate on the ground when you are all done eating. I miss you helping me fold laundry and sweep the floor.
I think about you as I go to bed every night. I picture your face and remember your scent. I can't wait to come home to you, to pull you up on my lap to read a book and chase you around the yard.
Please hang tight little guy, Mommy will be home soon.
I love you,