Letter to my baby

September 4th, 2009 was a big day, and among other things, we found out that we were pregnant with you. I squeezed it in there, between phone calls and errands, like an afterthought. Until I read that the test results were positive. And then I squealed with excitement. I hope you know someday that even though you're going to be our fourth baby, I still felt that thud in my heart and new air entered my lungs. Another baby. What a gift.

You will enter into a family that has love and emotion pouring through the windows and running down the walls. In the morning, there will be Lills and Rube right in your face, every minute of the day. Lillie will probably force her bottle or sippy cup into your mouth, but I will usually be there to protect you from injury. For the first few weeks you'll sleep and while you do, we will go every afternoon and pick up your sister Grace from school. She is the oldest and she will take care of you almost as much as I will. She will be your protector. She is practical and wise and makes responsible decisions. She won't fight with you much. Ruby will be your lover. She'll stroke your cheeks and kiss you within an inch of your life. She'll think fondly of you and plot ways to sneak your things away in the same moment. She's hilarious and will make you laugh numerous times per day. Lillie will be your biggest threat but your greatest friend. You'll roll around together in this crazy life, not knowing where she ends and you begin. You'll steal her toys and annoy her, but one day she'll make it very clear that she cannot live without your constant presence and support. She'll be a wonderful sister to you, just give her some time to adjust.

We don't know if you're a boy or a girl. We will find out November 18th and we're both extremely curious, but want to make this clear: we want you, no matter what you are. We want a noisy, clattery, whiny little girl just as much as we want our rough and tumbly boy. We consider you the greatest blessing in our life. I am 13 weeks along and you are making me very sick, but all it means is that you're sticking. That little body of yours, so bony and wormy in the ultrasound, is healthy and strong and you have a tiny beating heart that couldn't make me happier.

When you are young, you'll hear muddy conversations that don't make sense. Mommy will be forever busy and you'll jutt out from my arm like a baby kitten, waiting to understand this world you've been introduced into. Just wait. Just be patient. You'll come into your own soon enough. You are at no disadvantage, the rest of your family has paved the way and we are more than ready to take care of your needs.

Our decision to have you come as our fourth child is not one we took lightly. Four kids is a lot. For us, I think it's just right. We think you may be our very last baby and it makes me feel proud and lucky to be carrying just one more perfect blend of me and the love of my whole life, your daddy. We will raise the four of you to bring love, peace and understanding to the world. Yourselves, the greatest gift you can give, will be yours to share with people you meet along the way. Give it freely, but also be picky. You will have so many gifts, just like your sisters, and there are so many people that will need you as you will need them. Give things, time, and sacrifice all you can, and you will be happy and blessed.

Feel important, even though you are the youngest. Feel confident, even if you came last. You're our crown, our cherry on top.

We are happy little baby, and excited, and anxious. The moment you enter into this world, into our lives, into my life, will be one of the greatest things I ever achieve.

See you around May 10th.

Yours,

Mom.