Dear little one,
We’re only twelve weeks away from meeting you. Twelve weeks! It seems so close, yet so far away. Being in the home stretch causes me to break out in a giddy smile when I’m waiting in line at Starbucks, at the car wash or even just sitting at my desk. Even as I type this I’m a grinning fool. In the middle of an airport.
There’s a sweet little boy next to me with his nose pressed up against the window, watching a plane get de-iced with this intense look of concentration on his face. I cannot wait to take you on your first plane ride (outside the womb, you’ve been on plenty while inside). To see your reaction to the noise, the feeling of flight and the sight of all the gadgets.
Seeing your reaction to the world’s movements and motions. Other than getting to finally hold you, that is what I’m over the moon excited about.
Keep growing in there so you’re big and strong when you make your appearance. I know you’re itching to come out and play, but we’ll be patient until you make your appearance.
Or at least try to be.