Dear Little

My dear Little,

The day will inevitably come, if not several of them, when we're butting heads about something and you say the words no mother wants to hear. When you accuse me of not caring or understanding, or worst of all, not loving you. It will likely be over something small, turned large by one or both of us. Or maybe it will be over something big, like drinking or staying out late. It might be over something you're wearing or someone you think is fit to spend time with and I don't. No matter what it is, it will likely boil down to you fighting for freedom and me fighting to protect you.

For the record, while I can still get the last word in with no argument or fuss from you, I want to make some things very clear. Nobody loves you better, baby. Please remember that for every time we may argue or butt heads, that I'm fighting for you not against you. Even when it feels like we're fighting each other, know that my mommy heart is still fighting for you. It's something I've been doing since we first starting trying for you.

We've had a crazy ride together, and you've yet to take your first breath of air. I'll never forget the day I sat up straight in bed and knew two things - I knew you were there and I knew there was something I had to do to protect you, no matter how crazy my doctor might think I was. Not to say I told you so, but I was right, my little. It won't be the last time, but I'll try not to gloat too much when it happens.

So many times this pregnancy, there have been worries of losing you, of you coming too early, of many things that could have gone wrong and didn't. So many things that could have turned out differently, and ended up ok. I never want you to feel bad about any of that, but I do hope you will come into this world (or at least leave it when you are old and gray) with the lesson ingrained that there are so many things that can go wrong, but the journey is worth it and the important thing is to focus on what went right and never, ever give up. Not on yourself, not on those who mean the most to you. Ever.

I've joked that I was fighting you for who was more stubborn - you wanting to come out, me wanting you to stay in...and now that we're at a safe point I joke that I want you out and you want to stay in. In reality, I'd like to think we've been fighting for the best possible birthday for you together, that you heard me in those quiet moments when I thanked God for another day with you inside, and that you rode the wave with me during those hectic moments when we just weren't sure.

While we've been in "any day" mode around here for what seems like forever, we're now at a point where that isn't scary. You can make your appearance at any time and find your presence met with joy and excitement, not fear. I wanted that so badly for you, for your birth not to be a day overshadowed by fears of it being too soon, you being too little. Here's some irony for you - all along, you've been my "little" and chances are really good you'll be my "big." Further proof, my dear (I want to say my son, for I have always thought you were a boy), that we just never ever know what's going to happen for sure.

Your dad and sister are really excited to meet you too. At the most, we're looking at a couple weeks....but you will keep us guessing, I'm sure. Though, I would like to put in a good word for our doctor who has been so helpful and patient. He's on duty starting early tomorrow morning, just so you know. We could be home by the weekend. You know, if you find that agreeable.

No matter what happens, no matter what you might one day hear about the beginning of our journey together please remember. It all started with love.

That's what has brought us through, you know. I'm right about this, I know it.

Love,
Mommy