Well, Baby, we got to week 14 and you're still here. Still got a beating heart. Still making me sick and tired, although a joyful-ish kind of sick and tired. At least, if I'm going to be sick and tired, I guess the best kind is because you're making me that way.
I wasn't sure if you were going to stick around. Didn't have high expectations for you. Your dad and I didn't even tell anyone you were on your way until two weeks ago. Not a soul. Well, we told your sister and we told Daisy, but they're good about keeping secrets. And today I thought I'd tell a few more people because I think they'd like to know about you. It looks like you've decided that maybe this life is for you. I'm hoping you are a little more committed than "maybe"; I'm hoping you think that you'd like to meet us all someday. No pressure, but I promise we'll take really good care of you and love you. A lot.
I will say that having a December birthday may not be totally great. That wasn't my choice, but leave it up to your mom to get the math all wrong. But it's not bad. And if you could come earlier than December 22nd, then you can have last-day-of-school-for-Christmas-break birthday parties. I also promise that if you don't make me spend Christmas Eve or Christmas in the hospital I will make it up to you somehow. Maybe we'll invest that money we get back by getting to claim you on our taxes this year. Or maybe I'll just buy you a nice blanket. A puppy? It's negotiable.
I also want you to know that even though I complain sometimes about being pregnant, it's nothing personal. It's true I don't like being pregnant--don't like it one bit--but in the end we get you, so it's worth it.
We get you. We have you now. We'd like you to stay. A lot of people are looking forward to meeting you. Your family especially.
See you in December.
Lots of hugs and kisses,