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.
He also leaves these little post-it notes all over the house or in his pants pockets. I mostly find them when I'm doing laundry. Just random things I guess he's thinking about. For example yesterday I found one that said "Find out about more life insurance."
Now just the thought of us needing life insurance at all makes me so scared I don't even want to discuss it. But then I find out that he's thinking about it and it just kills me.
It's really so sweet I can't take it. I'm sorry. I can't help myself. I think maybe I do want you to read these letters someday so suffice it to say - if we weren't already expecting you I'd want to have a baby with him like...yesterday.
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
