May 2009

To Whom it May Concern:

Dear Baby to be named later:

Hi.

I know this is kind of weird - but it's 2:30 in the morning and I can't even begin to think about sleeping.  My mind won't turn off no matter what I try to do.

Today has been...well, quite a day... 

I couldn't sleep and I thought that maybe writing it all down might make it finally sink in and feel - I don't know - more real or something.  Not that I'm that great a writer and not that I don't really believe it's true or...whatever. 

I don't think it's unfair for me to not be exactly rational at the moment.

I guess I'll start at the beginning.  I'll start by telling you what happened today.  This morning Jim, I mean, your dad (seriously?  Just seeing that word is freaking me out) and I went to a picnic.  It was our company's picnic.  We work together - at least we do right now.  That's how we met.

What happened after we met is a really long story.  That's a story I'll save for when you're 17 and (if you're a girl) cursing me for giving you hair that frizzes in the humidity and wondering if anyone will ever notice you. 

Actually come to think of it telling you our story will work if you're a boy too.  

Except the frizzy hair part.  Do boys worry about frizzy hair?  See?  These are the things I don't think the books tell you about.

Speaking of books - we have a pile now on the coffee table.  Seems your father decided we needed to know absolutely everything tonight.  The minute we got in the car he attacked the GPS, found the nearest shopping mall and bought out Barnes and Noble. 

I guess it's a good time to mention that your father?  Yeah - he's a little insane about some stuff.  You might inherit that - but it's a good thing.

I promise.

We got home and he skimmed through every single one of them and that's how we found out that right now you're about the size of a poppy seed.

We think.

You could be a jellybean.

See we're not exactly sure when you started to hang around with us quite yet.  Don't worry.  We're going to find out really soon. 

I'll keep you posted.

So today we went to a picnic and we played volleyball (well I played volleyball - some others tried but failed miserably) and while we were playing I slipped and twisted my ankle.  I was fine but they made me go to the emergency room.  We were going to go real quick and come right back to the game. 

But we never did go back - because while we were there we found out about you.

To say we were surprised is an understatement. 

This is not to say that this is an accident - or that you were an accident.  You know what?  That's a really stupid way to put it.  I know once we tell people about you that's going to come up all the time.  There are some people in this world who are missing the filter between their brain and their mouth. 

Wait till you meet Michael and you'll see exactly what I mean.

You were not at all an accident.  I mean, it's not like we accidentally had sex....

Is that even possible?

OK.  I'm thinking now that you'll never ever read this.  I don't care how old you are I don't think there's ever a time where you're OK with imagining your parents...well...you know. 

Trust me.  I'm thirty and I'm definitely not there yet.

Whether you ever read this or not the point is we were surprised.  Oh - but really, really, really excited.  We had actually been talking about you for a while - just always as something or I guess I should say someone we saw in our future. 

It's a crazy time for us - we just moved into a new house.  I took a huge gamble work wise.  Well - I say gamble, your father says I must have been smoking an illegal substance.  I don't do that and you shouldn't ever either.

Oh my God.  Look at me - I'm lecturing you already!  Sorry! 

But seriously - just say NO. 

Anyway I wasn't actually earning a paycheck for a while - which worked out ok in the end but we needed to be a little careful with money.  We both agreed that someday you would be part of our lives but we were planning to wait a bit before you got here.

I don't know if this is where I should mention that we aren't exactly married yet.

If you ask me we kind of already are.   We've known each other for years and have been engaged for months.   Just so you know we are planning to get married really soon.  Definitely way before you get here.  As a matter of fact we almost eloped a few weeks ago but I decided I wanted cheesy disco music and not a courthouse in Ohio.

That's another long story.

But anyway, it doesn't even matter.  Everything that's happened today made me realize that in every way that counts we are already married.   I know this is going to sound really sappy, but it's also really true.

That story I'm going to tell you later?  About how we got together?  Well, all I'll say now is based on the way it finally happened I know without question there is no one else in the world I'm meant to be with. 

It's the only thing I really know for sure. I have never in my life loved anyone as much as I love your father. And I know he feels the very same way about me.  

So you've got that going for you.

I probably shouldn't say this but I'm really scared about what's going to happen when you get here.  I know people say you sort of just know what to do when the time comes and I guess maybe I will too.  I promise you I'm going to try my best to be a good mother.  And you know what?  Even if I screw up a little you'll still turn out alright.

I am beyond sure your father is going to be a natural.  I'm sure he's going to be so good at this that I'm going to be insanely jealous. 

I know he'll take the very best care of you. I can tell by the way he takes such good care of me.

That does it.  Now I'm all teary eyed and emotional and suddenly just really tired. Sadly I don't think this is going to be a temporary situation.  At least according to one of your father's many baby books those feelings are going to be around for a while.  I'll guess I'll just have to get used to it.

The good news is I think I can actually sleep now.

I just want to say one more thing.  I know I haven't known about you for more than a few hours but... 

I know I already love you.

So. Much.

Love,

Pam   Mom  

Listen here you.   We need to have a little discussion. 

Two weeks ago I had no idea that you were on your way.  Now you have made it your mission to remind me every single minute.

OK.  I might be exaggerating - but it certainly seems that way.

Really.  The puking?  It has to stop.

I can't keep a thing down.  It doesn't matter what I eat or when I eat it.  I'm eating saltines and plain pasta by the case.  Plus you are sucking the life out of me.  Anything I do manage to keep down you're greedily hanging onto so I am completely drained to the point of falling asleep at my desk.

Not like nodding off - I'm talking full on naps.

I guess this might be retaliation for the fact that one night after work I drank half a beer before I remembered that I shouldn't be drinking because I have you hanging out in there. 

If you come into this world with a taste for Corona Light with lime I'll take full responsibility.

By the way your father thinks all this is completely hilarious.

I'm going to apologize now if by chance he is not around when you get here.  I just might kill him and you just might be born while I'm incarcerated.

But probably not.  If I'm being honest he's pretty handy to have around.  And then there's the my being insanely in love with him thing.

He's really lucky about that.

Since I think my stomach is settled for the moment let me tell you what's new.  We finally went to the doctor and she's great.  I was really nervous but I'm a little less so now.

She's definitely going to take good care of us.

Anyway - it was not very exciting.  Just a lot of routine tests and stuff.  We got to see you real quick - but we couldn't see much.  You really are tiny - exactly like a little bean.

Oh that reminds me.  If you don't mind, for the purposes of these letters I'm going to keep calling you Jellybean.  For one thing I think it sounds cute and for another (and this is going to sound weird and/or gross - I apologize) your dad insists that once upon a time I used them as a method to seduce him.

Sorry.  That will end the extremely inappropriate and creepy part of this letter.  I promise.

Just so you know, we've only told a very few people about you.  Your grandparents (who are beyond excited by the way) and our family mostly.  No one at work knows - except the camera crew.

I guess maybe I should explain that one.

About 5 years ago this camera crew came to film a documentary about Dunder-Mifflin - the place where your father and I work.  It took a while but we've finally gotten used to them I think.  It's like they're sort of our friends now in a weird way.  Anyway - they were with us when we went to the hospital and your father - without saying a word really - kind of gave them the impression that you might be on your way. 

I actually can't wait to see that footage, because let me tell you Bean, the look on his face that day was completely priceless.

Your father has a very expressive face.  When you meet him you'll understand.

We're still not 100% sure when you'll be here but the doctor is saying probably sometime in February.  We'll be going back in a couple of weeks to try and narrow it down a bit more.

In the meantime we are trying to figure out what to do about getting married.  We're torn between a medium size wedding (inviting more than just our families) and just running off one weekend by ourselves.  I kind of don't want to completely rush things just because you are on the way - but I also don't want to have to wear a gown the size of a tent.  Plus I can't really justify spending thousands of dollars on a wedding when we can use all the money we can get to fix up your room and get ready for you in general.

I can't wait to do that.  It's going to be really fun.

Your dad wants me to paint something like mural and I think that'll be cool, but I'm having trouble figuring out what I should do.  I've also never done that before.  I figure whatever I do it can't be any worse than the freakish clown painting we still can't get off the wall downstairs.  (Don't ask.) 

We don't think we're going to find out what you're going to be till you actually get here.  I think there are very few things in this life that are truly a surprise.  But who knows.  I might change my mind.  It might be nice to know what kind of colors to use or clothes to buy.

So there you go.  The latest and greatest is that I'm tired and cranky and overall miserable for a good eight hours a day.  I haven't gained too much weight (because I can't seem to hold onto food long enough for it to digest) but even still I don't know how much longer we are going to be able to fool people.  I mean, I noticed today that Dwight was furiously writing down notes while staring intently at me.

It could totally be related to work - or he absolutely could be trying to figure out when I had my last period.

If he figures it out before your father and I do I'm going to be really annoyed.

Not to mention totally creeped out.

Well that's quite a note to leave on.  Sooo.  I'm gonna say goodnight little Bean.  Let's call a truce alright?

I promise to let you stay up late on holidays and non-school nights if you'll just let me enjoy my breakfast for at least two mornings this week.

Two.  That's all I ask.

Deal?

Love you,

Mom

Jelly. Bean.

Oh my God.  We saw you today.  Like really saw you and heard your heart beating too (it's so fast and so strong) and just...well...I can't even.

I can't help myself.  I know I'm channeling Kelly here (who let me assure you is in line just behind Dwight, Meredith, Ryan and Creed as those we'd never, ever let babysit you) but I don't care.

It's incredible, amazing and so, so ridiculous.  I'm going to be your mom. 

OK.  That's crazy.

If the mood swings and the sickness I'm having (all day) lately didn't convince me you were on your way, today certainly has.  You still don't look much like a baby yet.  I mean the picture is kind of blurry and pretty nondescript but it doesn't matter.

I think you are just beautiful.

Or I guess maybe handsome.  Maybe I should just say handsomely beautiful.

So beautiful I'll even forgive you for not keeping up your end of the bargain in our no puking deal.

Really.  It's not right for you to be so unreliable already.  That's it.  I'm grounding you for the next seven or so months.  Don't even think about going anywhere till I say so.

There are still days where I feel like this can't be real. I must be dreaming.  But then there are days where I honestly can't even remember what it's like to not be waiting for you. 

It's all very strange.

But it's good.  It's all really, really good.

So now we have your picture up on the refrigerator - and another framed on the shelf in the living room.  Your dad made about 6 copies so we'd have enough to give out to your grandparents.  I'm pretty sure he's got one in his wallet right now as well.

There is so much we need to do before you get here (still not married yet - just in case you wanted an update on that).  We are going to get some stuff from your aunts and uncles - like a crib that is practically brand new.  My mom's going to give me this antique cradle that I slept in when I was a baby.  It's so simple and just beautiful.  I can't wait to see you in it.

Your father doesn't seem to have a sense of the timeline here - no matter how many books he reads.  For instance, he's already put a child safe lock on the cabinet under the kitchen sink.  I tried to get the dishwasher detergent out of there the other day and wound up in hysterics because I couldn't get the door to open.

There is no way this can be an issue yet.  There are months before you get here and then months before you can even get near that cabinet on your own. 

He's out of his mind, but shh.  Don't tell him.

I secretly love it.

This is not to say he's perfect by any means.  It was not pretty there for a few days, Bean. I literally kicked him out of bed one night.

Like - I mean - physically kicked him.  Left a bruise too.  I felt so terrible but really.  He should know better than to say things like "Hope that King sized bed we ordered gets here before there's no more room left for me in this one."

I feel bad but c'mon.  He sort of deserved it. 

Mostly though - he's great.  He's been on his own for dinner lately and he never complains.  Most nights he either makes something simple (he's going to turn into Macaroni and Cheese) or runs out for takeout. He's probably happier - neither one of us has ever been much of a cook and we tended to do take out more often than not anyway.  Either way he always remembers to make or bring something home for me - even though I can't even begin to think about eating.

Learning to be a better cook is probably something else I need to do before you get here.  I do happen to bake really good brownies.  Probably not the most nutritious thing though...

I think we're both still a little overwhelmed.  Your dad is a little bit more scattered than usual these days.  He has printed out a bunch of articles so he can read them on his lunch hour.  He's paranoid about someone finding this folder he keeps them in.  He always has it right next to him. 

And now I'm crying.  Damnit.  It's so strange not being able to control my own eyes anymore. 

The more books I read the more I know my eyes being out of my control is nothing compared to what's coming up next so I guess I'll just have to suck it up and get used to it. 

So there you go.  It's official.  You're real.  I got to see you and hear you and now I can really start to believe it.  Your father - still insane, but so sweet it makes up for it and the two of us? 

Not married.

Yet...

I promise that's the very next thing on our list.

Stay tuned.

Love, love, love you,

Mom

Jellybean,

There's a lot to tell you.  All good, amazingly happy things but for some reason I keep coming back to this.

I want to say something now.  It's not that I think knowing this will save you exactly.  I don't even know if this is something you truly need to be saved from.  I guess I'm hoping that hearing this might help you in some small way when or if the time ever comes. 

It boils down to this I guess.

Life isn't always easy.  Things don't always turn out the way you've planned. 

But sometimes?  Sometimes they turn out even better than you could ever have imagined.

One day you might understand for yourself what I'm talking about here.  One day, when you are much, much older you might wake up one morning and think you've made the biggest mistake of your life.  You might think all hope is lost - that nothing will ever be right again.

But don't worry little Bean.  It will be.

You might have to suffer through it - even if it means letting go of something you truly think you can't live without.  Even if it's almost physically painful to have to sit by and watch someone else seem to live the life you thought you'd have it will work out OK in the end.

Because maybe (when or if this happens to you) you just need a chance to breathe.  Maybe you need time to understand what it's like to truly be alone.  Maybe you need to figure out who you want to be on your own and not rely on someone else - for good or for bad - to define it for you.

Maybe it'll take much longer than you thought.  Maybe even being pushed to act won't help you.  Maybe you need to figure it all out on your own time.

Maybe even as you do that you'll still be scared.  Maybe the person you've hurt will hurt you back - more deeply and more often than you could have even imagined.

But maybe you'll still love them anyway.  Maybe you won't know how to even begin to stop.

It might be that you'll make the same mistake twice.  But hopefully the second time it'll take weeks and not years to recognize it and have the courage to walk away.

And in the end when you finally figure out what you want, when you're finally feeling brave enough to promise yourself you'll be alright no matter what happens - maybe that's the moment when it'll all work out the way you had hoped.

Maybe.

Oh, Bean.  I take it back.  I really truly hope you never have to go through any of that.  I hope when you realize there's only one person in this world you want to be with you'll know and won't let them slip away from you for even a second.  I hope you don't ever have to wonder what would have happened if - from the very beginning - you'd just taken a chance.

Even if you do someday understand what I mean - I promise you it'll be just fine. 

Good or I should say incredibly great things come to those who wait.

You need to trust me on this one.

Love you - more than ever,

Mom

PS: I know this all sounds so cryptic, but here's the real news I've been dying to tell you.  Your father and I got married yesterday!  I know.  About time right?  Well, we did and it was beautiful and perfect in ways I couldn't ever have dreamed of.   Of course - it wouldn't have been our wedding without some sort of craziness but the good things totally outweighed the bad in the end.   

I know I've said this before and I know you're probably sick of it but it's really true.  I love him so much, Bean.  I honestly don't know anymore what I would do without him. 

I never, ever want to have to find out.

PPS: Bonus!  This also means you no longer have a chance of being born illegitimately.  It's a good day to be you Bean. 

PPPS:   Really.  You have absolutely no chance no matter what Angela might have to say about it.  And if she does say anything of the sort while you're within earshot - you let me deal with her.  I'll have no trouble reminding her that she's not one to talk.

Jellybean,

It's probably not appropriate to call you that anymore - because you are definitely bigger than that by now.   

You know what?  It doesn't matter.  I'm still gonna use it.

One great thing about all this is that I get my way quite a lot lately.  I kind of like it.

I don't know exactly how to explain what life is like these days.  It's definitely more fun, now that I'm not paranoid about people finding out, now that we're married, now that we're able to finally take a breath and enjoy it.   All the real scary stuff is still far enough away that I'm not panicking quite yet. 

It was the craziest thing.  One day I woke up and felt so much better for half a second I forgot you were even on your way here.

You reminded me quick enough.  You know what?  I think I should just start to work out of the Ladies Room.

It's not as hard as you think to get a desk in there actually.  Maybe I'll look into it.  It would certainly be more convenient.

We're in a nice little routine now.  Your father read that you can now hear sounds and such so he talks to you constantly.  It's mostly at night when we're watching t.v.or first thing in the morning when we're still in bed.  And it's so strange - but I swear you know it's him.  You can be really quiet and then all of the sudden he talks and I can feel you moving around.   

It's kind of freaky how you do that.

When it first started it was like little flutters but now it's like you're swimming around in there all the time.   I remember the first time it happened I dropped my mug of tea and your father almost had a heart attack thinking something was wrong.

Don't worry.  I've gotten much more used to you since then.

By the way, your dad is the only person who has permission to touch my stomach any time the mood strikes him.  I absolutely love it when he does that. 

The rest of the world can totally suck it.  I swear I have to swat Michael's hand away every five seconds.  It's so annoying and not to mention rude the way people - even strangers - think it's not a problem for them to touch me like that.

It makes me miss the desk at reception so much you have no idea.  At least it offered some sort of protection.

Tonight we got home from work and I (or maybe it was you) was starving.  I went to grab the menu from the pizza place and for some reason when I did I turned the radio on - the one we keep in the kitchen.

Your father likes to listen to baseball on the radio.  He says that's what his grandpa used to do.  I love that about him.

There was no baseball tonight, there was just some slow, cheesy 80's ballad playing and out of nowhere your dad started twirling me around. 

By the way - let me apologize to you now Bean.  Your dreams of Broadway are destined to be shattered.

Neither your father nor I were blessed with any sort of rhythm.  

Anyway we danced around the kitchen for a while and your father sang along to the radio (how he knew the words is beyond me) which made me laugh.  I don't know if it was the spinning or the singing but I guess at one point you got sick of it and let me know it.  I got a little dizzy and made him stop, but it was a lot of fun while it lasted.

I don't even know why I'm telling you about this.  It wasn't anything special exactly but I don't know.   Tonight was good night. 

Life for us Halperts in general is really, really good.     

Speaking of Halperts, your dad is such a dork.  I guess I should tell you he's a little crazy about music.  I wonder if you'll be that way too.  He's spending hours constructing playlists that include - well - it seems to me like every single song he's ever listened to.  I can't even begin to list it all but I know it's quite a mix.  Almost every night he stretches the headphones over my stomach and pushes play.    So far you seem to be a fan of most of it so that's good.

He doesn't know but I've actually bought him a new iPod and speakers for his birthday.  He's used up all the space he has on his old one and curses every time he needs to take something off to make more room.   He'll be surprised and will probably tell me he doesn't need it but I know for sure that he'll love it.  He'd never buy a new one for himself - especially these days.

He will however find something to buy for you in any store he goes to whenever I send him on a simple errand.

I'm not kidding. You have no use for a striped lawn chair with a matching umbrella yet do you?  Well you have one for when you're ready, just so you know.  He bought it when he went to get milk at the supermarket the other day. 

That makes sense right?  It doesn't matter.  Whenever he does something like that he's so excited I don't have the heart to say anything about it.  I'm just keeping all this stuff tucked away till you're old enough to appreciate it.

I don't know what it is but lately I've found myself thinking how great it is that we live in this house.  Your room (the one that still has blank yellow walls, just waiting for me to be inspired by...something) actually used to be his.

There are a lot of good memories in this house - I know that from the way your father talks about what it was like growing up here.  It's kind of nice knowing that we're sort of starting all over again here with you.

It's odd when you start to share your life with someone, Bean.  I feel like I know him so well - but there are years and years of his life that I have absolutely no clue about. He's told me a lot but it's not the same as being there you know?  I don't know what his first day of school was like.  I don't know all the things he was scared of when he was little.  There are tons of little things that somehow I feel like I've missed.

I know the same is true for him about me but it's strange.  I feel like I should know these things.

I guess maybe I should just start asking him.  It's probably as simple as that.  I'm sure he'd tell me anything I wanted to know.

I think that's part of the reason why I'm so excited about you.  It's crazy.  You're going to be the very first person I know from the moment they were born. 

I really can't wait.

xo,

Mom

PS: I take it back.   I actually can wait.  I can wait till you finish cooking in there.  They say there's a chance you'd still make it if I had you now - but don't get any bright ideas. 

Please.  Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.  I'm going to try to too.

Oh Bean,

I hate to tell you this.  Tonight is not that great a night.  I was planning on telling you about all sorts of good stuff - like the adorable little easel and paint set your dad bought you for Christmas and set up in the garage right next to mine, or the baby shower I know they are planning for me in the office - and how I know for a fact they are trying to give us this beat up stroller they'd planned to give Jan last year, or how Kelly found this trick on the internet where she had to put my wedding ring on a piece of string and hold over my belly.  It's supposed to tell me if you are a boy or a girl depending on the way it spins.

Apparently according to this test you're a little of both, which Dwight claims he'd already predicted.

Michael, however, thinks you are definitely a boy.  Well - he hopes you are a boy - and then when (if) this documentary ever airs he wants your dad and me to star in a spin off called...are you ready?

Pam and Jim + Him.

Also he's not entirely convinced there's not nine of you in there.  He really wants me to beat the Octo-Mom.

Seriously.  I can't make this stuff up.

I was going to tell you all this but instead I'm hiding out in the bedroom while your father watches TV downstairs.

Because he's mad at me.

It's not really even that he's mad.  I think he's more hurt and upset and I know it's kinda my fault. 

OK.  It's pretty much all my fault.

A long time ago, before your father and I were actually together together we were completely horrible at really communicating.  We talked around subjects instead of about them, alluded to our feelings instead of showing them.  Basically it wasn't good.  At all.  We were both miserable most of the time.

It used to take us years to finally confront things.  I guess it says a lot that it now only takes a few hours.

So you can't say we didn't learn from our mistakes.

Anyway I can't even tell you what it's about, because I think it's just a lot of little things.  I'm really tired and just uncomfortable lately.  It's making me overly cranky and impatient.  And maybe a little bit jealous.

I love that you are on your way here Bean.  I really do.  But tonight I said something about this art course I found out is happening this summer and your father laughed and said something about that would be great except the timing is all off. 

And I don't know what it was, but that really bothered me.  It wasn't at all what he was saying, but I felt like he was talking about us, and about you, and about how all this ended up.  It's not the way we planned.  And I honestly wouldn't have changed a thing.  I don't know what happened.  I guess the realization of everything that's going on just hit me at once.

So tonight when we were talking about this I said something like "I can do whatever I want," and he agreed but sort of gave me a look that said, "But really, you can't so much anymore" and I don't even know why but I started yelling about how unfair that is and that it's ok for him to go to football games or play basketball on the weekend but I can't ever leave the house, and apparently will never be able to do anything ever again and how it was all his fault.

I kind of lost it.

I feel bad even writing this.  Please, please don't misunderstand me.  We're both so excited to be waiting for you.  We both love you so much already it's really crazy.  But I've been feeling lately like he gets to do all the fun stuff, like just run around and buy you things.  Meanwhile I'm getting so fat and none of my clothes fit (even some of the new maternity ones I bought), people ask me all sorts of really inappropriate and highly personal questions all day long and my entire life, not to mention my body changes more and more every day.

It's so weird.  There are some days where I barely recognize myself.

Bean, I'm not sure if you are a boy or a girl or if your hair will be curly or straight but here is one thing I already know.  You are going to be so incredibly stubborn.  Because although one of us always makes the first move to fix things on a night like this it usually takes an hour or two before one of us breaks. 

More often than not - it's your father who can't take it anymore and caves.  I know I take advantage of that far more often than I should.  Even tonight I can tell he is almost there. I can hear him, moving to the stairs and placing his foot on that creaky bottom step.  He's done it at least three times already but he must think twice about it whenever he does because he hasn't come upstairs yet.

I don't really want him to.  I know it's my turn tonight.

This all sounds so much more serious than it really is.  I don't want you to worry at all about this though.  When you get here you'll know that your Grandma and Grandpa Beesly aren't exactly together anymore.  All that just happened recently and I am trying to be okay with it but it's not easy.   Even when you are as old as I am you don't ever want to find out that the kind of relationship you thought your parents had was not what it seemed.  

This thing that happened tonight is not at all serious.  It's not something that's going to do any sort of major damage.  And my parents' problems have really just made me even more sure about what your dad and I have, not less. 

So I know it's all going to be okay.  We just need to talk about it.

If I am being honest, it would be better for me to tell him I'm scared and pretty much completely exhausted...and for me to tell him that I realize he is too. I know he's trying not to show it but he's been so worried lately about money and a bunch of other stuff all of which has to do with you. 

Sometimes I guess I forget that.  I forget that just because I'm the one carrying you doesn't mean his life isn't changing too. I know it is.  I know for a fact he's been working extremely hard lately to try and get some new clients.  He thinks he's being sneaky but I know he's really doing it so I don't have to rush back to work. 

He wants me to be able to have a choice.  I know he doesn't care if I sit at a reception desk or sell paper or if I did nothing but take care of you and maybe take some time to paint and work on my drawing.  It really would not make an ounce of difference to him.

He really just wants me to be happy.  It's that simple.

Part of the problem right now is that I want him to be happy too and I'm not sure he really is.  I know he's happy with me and happy about you but when it comes to work I'm not too sure.   I know it's not what he ever pictured himself doing.  I know he never thought he'd still be working here now.  He doesn't often talk about what he'd like to do instead, but I know that selling paper was not what he dreamed of doing when he grew up. 

Part of me feels really guilty, like he's stuck working there now only because of me.

Because of us.

I don't even know anymore if he's actually alright with it - or if he feels like he's stuck but I think I need to find out.

So right now I'm going to go downstairs and ask him what he really wants to do and to apologize for being such a brat and to just say thank you.

Among other things.

Wish me luck, even though I'm sure I don't really need it.

Love,
Mom

Dearest Bean,

Your father has a lot of ties.  I know you're probably reading this saying "Thanks Mom for that amazing piece of information," but it's true.  He really does.

I know this because I just finished cleaning out his closet.

It's very strange.  Your father isn't the most...how do I put this?  He's not someone who is really focused on fashion. (Thank God.)  He looks kind of rumpled and relaxed most of the time.  His hair is always a little too long and most days he looks like he can't find a comb.   

But he wears a tie to work every single day and I love that.

So now those ties are all organized and hanging in perfect rows.   And I will kill him if I see one of them on the floor anytime soon.  I arranged them by color, then by pattern.  I found some he must have bought when he lived in Connecticut that I didn't really recognize.

This is weird, because if there ever was a time I paid attention to every little thing about your dad; it was that year he came back from Connecticut.

Anyway, his closet is now completely organized.   My closet is organized.  So are both dressers, our nightstands and that giant junk drawer in the kitchen. 

I'm driving him a little bit crazy I think but I can't seem to help myself. 

I've washed and folded all the clothes we've gotten as gifts for you and some clothes I couldn't help but buy for you myself.    We're waiting to get your bedding.  Your Grandma Beesly said that once we've found out what you are she'll go get one of the two sets I've picked out and set up your crib.

As well some clothes in pink or blue other than yellow or green.  I've been dying to buy more gender specific clothes but I'm resisting.

Things are alright here.  They tell me you are only about 4 or so pounds but I don't believe it.  You are gargantuan.  I'm convinced.  I've gained about 20 pounds and you have to account for about 15 of them. 

There is no other explanation.

I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping.  I feel awful about it but I keep waking your dad up because I can't sleep.   We're both completely exhausted.

Even so during the day I feel the need to do all sorts of things I'm afraid I won't have time after you get here. 

Your furniture is all set up (that was something else - your father is not going to give Bob Villa any competition let me tell you.  There is a reason we hired contractors to fix up the house).  I finally finished the mural on your wall and ceiling (mostly trees and clouds and stuff, it kind of looks like our backyard actually.  I think I'll add some more flowers and things if you end up being a girl). All in all we're really pretty prepared for you to get here honestly.

I mean, we even sucked it up and bought a new car.

Please don't think we're not cool now that we drive something that looks like a minivan.

No really.  I promise.  We are still cool.

Wait.  If you have to keep saying you're still cool does that really mean the opposite? 

I think it might.

Anyway when driving in our new kind of minivan some days your father takes a different route home than I'm used to.  He doesn't think I notice but he checks his watch the minute we leave wherever we are and the minute we pass the hospital - which may or may not be on our way to wherever we're going.

I think he's freaking out.

And he can't freak out.  He is absolutely not allowed to freak out.

Because I'm freaking out.  Only one of us can be freaking out at a time.

It's a deal we have and it's worked out very well so far.   I refuse to let him change that.  Especially now.

Bean, let me be honest with you.  It's been a long time since I baby sat anyone and when I did I was not that responsible a baby sitter.  I don't remember much about it - other than I used to talk on the phone a lot or draw in my sketchbook the entire time. 

Point is I wasn't the most responsible.  I'm not trying to scare you.  I'm just being honest here so you know what to expect.

I'm just not sure I'm going to be any good at any of this.  Your dad says I'm crazy but that's easy for him to say.  He's able to charm pretty much everyone he meets. 

It's true.  I once watched him pick up a girl in only about 20 minutes.

Please note that this is before we were ever together.  And also note that I think at least both Michael and Dwight were trying to pick her up too. 

If given those choices - I mean really.  No contest.

Anyway this is not going to be a problem.   I know you're going to love him.  All kids do.  Pretty much everyone does. 

It's not difficult to figure out why.  He's very easy to love.

People I know who have kids keep telling me that it's not easy but there are really things you just know when the time comes.   I'm trying to believe them but that's not easy either.

How am I going to know what you're crying about?  I mean, a diaper change I can probably figure out, and maybe if you're just hungry but what if it's something else?  I wish babies talked earlier.  Since you won't be able to talk I'm scared I'm going to be this completely irrational mother who rushes their kid to the hospital every 5 seconds because she has absolutely no clue.   And the nurses will hate me and the doctors will roll their eyes when they see me come in.

I guess that I can't really screw up too much when you are really little.  I mean it'll probably just be a lot of trial and error.  As long as I don't drop you I think we'll be OK.

Right?

Except I'm a little clumsy - and since I've been pregnant oh geez.  It's just gotten worse.  I drop everything lately.

Maybe I'll make your dad hold you and I'll just take you whenever I'm sitting down. 

That could work until he goes back to work at least.

Maybe I'll make him start working from home.  Then he'd only need to leave the house for sales calls.

So yeah.  That's the plan.  Tell me you'll promise to be really advanced and talking by the time you're oh...let's say eight months old I'm not too greedy and I'll get your dad to stay home until you can walk so that I won't drop you.

OK.  That is a really ridiculous plan.

I guess I just have to relax and have faith that I can actually do this.  That I won't drop you or feed you too much or be helpless to know what's going on with you when you cry.  Maybe I can just expect that I'll know what to do like forty percent of the time.   Or maybe (and I hope this is the case) I'll develop some weird super power when you're born that will tell me how to understand you so I don't mess you up too much.

I hope so, Bean.  I really, really hope so.

Mom

Jellybean,

It's really not fair what you're doing to your father.

I'm not even going to talk about how swollen my ankles are and well, how honestly everything else has swelled up too.

I'm not going to tell you how I can't seem to get more than two hours of sleep at a time, how I waddle like a duck now, how Michael asked your father if my boobs were in fact as big as watermelons or if it is an optical illusion.

But really - it's not about me right now.

You're going to give the man a heart attack.

Please stop it.  I'm going to need him when you get here.

Bean - I'm not sure what your issue is.  I think maybe you just like it in there.  And there was a time I was praying that you'd stay put but now I think you need to come out already.

Even as I say that I'm wondering if we could possibly do this some other way.

Maybe you do just stay in there. 

I mean, I think we still have the receipt for the car seat and carriage.  I can just carry you around this way for a little while longer. 

You see I know how to take care of you while you're in there but I'm not really sure what to do when you get out.

I'm not working anymore (I haven't been for like two and a half weeks) which is good and bad.  Good because I am so uncomfortable and huge that just getting dressed anymore is like running a marathon and at home I can stay in yoga pants and sweatshirts. 

Good because I don't have Kevin stopping by my desk every hour to try and look down my shirt which is really so creepy and weird and inappropriate.   

Bad because it's insanely boring being home all day.  And I really miss your dad.

I know.  Shut up.  I really like him though.

It's not the first time I've been away from him all day - far from it - but it's kind of worse now because I'm so used to being around him all the time.  About 5 times a day I find myself talking to him like he's sitting next to me.

Because he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown I can't even call him much because every time I do his voice has this really weird, urgent, anxious sound to it.  He doesn't sound like himself and that bothers me. 

Mostly because I just really like the sound of his normal voice. 

When I call him our conversations go something like this:

Me: "Hey."

Him: "Are you OK? Is it...?"

Come to think of it - that's how we start every conversation now.  When I call him at work I try and distract him by asking him what Dwight is doing or telling him who Ellen has on today but it's not really working.  If I don't call him it's almost worse.

He comes home every day at lunch and I have to push him back out the door.  It's like he never believes what I say anymore.

Trust me - if you were on your way I'd make sure he knows it.

I don't want to make you nervous.  We're ready.  I really think we are.  Everything in the house has been baby proofed.  We've got your room all set up - even though you probably won't sleep in there for a while yet.  We've got bottles and diapers and a cute bathtub shaped like a duck.  The guest room and the sofa bed have clean sheets.

Both your grandmas want to be there too, so your dad will have to call them like the minute I go into labor so that they can get here on time. 

It's so weird but that's the thing he's focused on and is freaking out the most about.

I can't tell you how many times he's talked about it - how worried he is that one or both of them won't get there in time.  He listens to the traffic report every morning thinking that's going to give him some sort of heads up.  

I think he's just afraid of what it'll be like if it's just you and the two of us.

So am I, if I'm being honest, but I think it's getting to the point where your not being here is stressing us out more than you actually being here.

Even though I know I'll have some help in the beginning I've read everything I could get my hands on.  Well, that is until I stumble on something too scary and stop.  But that usually had to do with what's going to happen to me and not you. 

You?  You're perfect.  I can tell that already.

I went to the doctor today and she's not making it any easier.  When we left she laughed and said "Okay!  See you in a week - or maybe in a few hours.  You never know."

Nice right?

But I'm not kidding.  I'm worried about him.  I can't move without him jumping, I can't make a noise without him asking me if I'm alright.  I really think he might faint in the delivery room.

He's losing it Bean.  Big time.

It will not be good if he loses it.

Let's settle on a day okay?  How about Friday night?  I think that's the best option.  It'll be the weekend, your father will be home and not at work.  The Grandmas can drive here without too much traffic if you come late enough.

What do you say?

The part of me that's not terrified cannot wait to meet you.  I can't really fathom what it's going to be like - to have a piece of me and your father walking around. 

When I imagine you I imagine the best parts of both of us.  I really feel like that's what you will be.  I think you'll be able to draw well and play volley ball.  You'll be a great listener and really easy going like your dad.   You'll have a great sense of humor, enjoy the beauty of a perfectly executed prank and know how to think quickly on your feet.

You're going to be the greatest thing ever.  I just know it.

See you soon!

Hopefully.

Love,

Mom

Wow.

So I thought Pam was just drawing or doodling or something in this notebook this whole time but it seems she was actually talking to you. 

That's awesome!

Let me defend myself here for a sec.  I just found this in the bag we packed to take to the hospital.  No.  I'm not a snoop. I was simply trying to get the magazine I'd stashed in there because both you and your mom are sound asleep right now.

I can't seem to settle down.

It's been quite a day.

Anyway, I was trying to pass the time and once I read the first letter I couldn't stop myself.  And now that I've read them all I don't know.  I think I should take the time to clarify a few things.   I feel like the view you're getting is a bit one sided.

Ready?  Ok here we go...

1) I was never more shocked and amazed than the day we found out about you. Honestly. I already felt like the luckiest man alive but you were definitely the icing on the cake. It was like...the greatest thing ever.  And a lot of great things have happened lately so that's saying something.

Really. It was.

2) I am not insane. I think it's important to be informed. And it's not like your mom didn't read those books too.

Seriously. Always throwing me under the bus. You better keep your eye on her. She's sneaky like that.

3) She's the crazy one. She's amazing and she's going to be amazing with you. It's one of the things I have to constantly keep telling her. I have never known someone as kind or as good at taking care of people as your mom is. She's had tons of practice with Michael and he's as much like a kid as anyone. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's not a perfect person. She's got a little bit of a...how should I say it...devious streak and can get pretty cranky at times but I love that about her too.

Basically I gotta say you sort of hit the lottery as far as mothers go. I should know. I hit the lottery when it comes to wives.

4) We did not accidentally have sex. It's not always planned per se - but it's never an accident

5) That was a really weird thing to tell you. I'm never mentioning it again.

6) Here's something that you're going to get tired of hearing. I love your mother - so much it's crazy. She is the most amazing person I've ever known and I'm so lucky to have her.

Really. She's the best.  And so incredibly creative.

You should see how she painted your room. It's so cool. I want to charge people admission to come and look at it. Like a museum or something. It's that good.

7) You really gave her a rough time at the beginning and I gotta tell you it was really hard to sit by and watch. I wanted nothing more than to make her feel better but could do nothing to really help her. That wasn't much fun. At all.

8) I hope you're not self conscious on camera. That camera crew? They've already gotten some footage of you. Don't worry - I'm going to be sure to limit how close they actually get to you. The crew is great - but I'm feeling pretty protective of you right about now.

9) I'm also going to keep you away from Dwight - because being anywhere near Dwight is really not safe for anyone - especially someone as small as you.

10) You are ridiculously small. Honestly - how does that even happen?

11) I actually know how it happens. That was a rhetorical question.

12) If you ever happen to meet Dwight despite my best intentions - please treat any question he asks you as rhetorical. It's really your best defense.

13) The first time we saw you? You were even smaller than your were now, and looked - well, kind of like some sort of reptile if I'm being honest. I thought Dwight might be right in saying you were an alien for a while there. But even so, I made sure to show you off to anyone who stood near me for more than five seconds. I still have that picture in my wallet. I think it's just going to get worse now.

I'm gonna be that guy I guess. I can't believe that now you look like an actual real baby.

Well. You are a real baby but still. I can't believe that you're here.

Insane.

14) We have plenty of life insurance now - no worries.

15) I can't remember the exact day I knew I loved your mom - but it's definitely been a while. And there was a time when I thought we'd never, ever be together. And sometimes I did stuff to make sure that we never were - if I'm being honest.

I had to pinch myself the day we got married to really believe it was true. I know this sounds corny, but I'm not at all myself without her. During the time I wasn't with her I was...broken is the best way I think to describe it.

It's ok though. Everything's fixed now. Has been for awhile. You've got nothing to worry about.

16) On a much, much lighter note I've gotten a lot of mileage out of the fact that your mom was the one who messed up and told the people we work with about you. That was a good day.

17) Really. Don't ever talk to Dwight.

18) I am going to have to spend the rest of my life making up to your mother for what just happened here in the hospital. I am 100% sure I will never have possession of the remote again. Not to mention that now I'm gonna have to watch Cranford aren't I? You know what? It's okay. Totally worth it.

19) Everything I bought you? You absolutely need it. Your mom is just jealous I didn't get her a chair with an umbrella.

20) I don't often remember disagreeing with your mom - but I remember that night.

21) Umm...we totally made up. That's really all you need to know.

22) I could totally take Bob Villa in a cage match.

23) I never was ever even close to losing it. I was completely cool and calm the entire time. I don't care what she tries to tell you.

(By the way - both Grandmas made it.  I knew it was a good idea to keep an eye on the traffic.)

24) You're going to need to accept this.  It's better you realize it while you're young. 

Your mother is completely crazy...she's going to be so great with you.

Honestly? You kind of owe her one little thing. It was not an easy road getting you here. Take it easy on her at the beginning. Take it easy on me too if you don't mind. We're both really new at this.

25) If she drops you - which she won't - I promise I'll catch you.

Happy to have you here with us Jellybean.  It's gonna be so great. 

Just wait and see.

Love,

Dad