To My Baby:

I wrote this post say back on August 15th, 2006 in anticipation of Lillian's birth.  I was going to write a whole new letter to the next little one, but when I sat down to do it I realized that it would pretty much say the same thing, only with a few details that are different.  So, rather than writing the same thing all over again, I thought I would simply repost this letter in anticipation of #2!  Enjoy!

To my baby,

What a strange anticipation. When Christmas or a birthday comes around, there often is still anticipation, yet it is planned-anticipation. You see, every year Christmas lands on December 25th. Every year, your birthday lands on the same date. Yet, for the birth of a baby, there is no set date that the average human can know. Oh sure, some people cheat and plan a cesarean (“C-section”) or a planned inducement – but for us “old fashioned” (or, just normal) types, the date is unknown.

This anticipation, because of the unknown date, is full of not only excitement, but wonderment and pain. Wonderment because of your kicks and punches, because of your hiccups, because of your response to our voices – because of the Lord’s knitting. Pain because of the backaches, the sympathy-backaches, the added weight, the sympathy-weight (uh oh, 10 pounds!), the sore feet, and sometimes those same kicks and punches too! This anticipation is unlike any other.

The hour could be the next, or it could still be weeks away. Those false-contractions at first worried us a little bit, and they still worry us a little bit, but when we heard from your soon-to-be Grandmother that the more contractions now the less later on, we welcome them! Don’t worry, your mother will do just fine – in fact, when she sees you, she’ll forget all about those contractions.

Your mom is to the point where she is ready for you to come now! Just last night she was reading about what to eat and drink in order to induce labor. She even wanted me to pick her up some castor oil when a friend told us that it encourages labor to start! She has our bag, as well as your bag all packed and ready to go. The car seat is waiting for you in the car, with a stroller in the trunk. Really, she has everything all set for you.

As for a place to stay once we leave the hospital, no need to worry. We have a nice comfy crib all set up for you with brand new bedding. I apologize that you will have to sleep in the living room, but there isn’t much I can do about that. Actually, there is. At least for the first few months you will be sleeping in the bedroom with us in a pack-and-play. I wouldn’t know, but I hear those are fairly comfortable. Regardless of the comfort, you will be real close to mom and dad so whenever you quietly cry out (quietly, right?) we will be right there – or at least we will be able to hear you.

Your mom already made me give up my dresser because we have so many clothes for you! You sure have a lot of people who already love you even though you haven’t even taken your first breath. Everyone is waiting for you! I know you are going to have a lot of visitors coming from all over the country. As often as we can we will be sure to take you to see your grandparents, but don’t worry, they already are planning to come to see you as soon as you are here.

You see, we are all waiting in this strange anticipation. Part of me says, “wait!”, for I feel like there is a lot to do before you get here. But then again, part of me says “hurry up!”, because I can’t wait to hold you. I can’t wait to hear you. I can’t wait to simply see you. There is so much I want you to see, to hear, to smell – and I want to be there every time you have one of those experiences for the first time.

I know that in no time you will be talking and walking. After that you will be going to school, working at a job, going to college, having a career, and then (many many years down the road) dating. And before you know it you will be having babies of your own, experiencing this strange anticipation. So, that’s why I say “wait! Slow down!” You already are all grown up even though you haven’t yet had to scratch an itch.

What a strange anticipation. The gift of God that you are, you will come in His timing. Your mom and I will be stuck in this state of strange anticipation until you decide to debut yourself to this world. I’m glad, though, that we don’t have to long be content in this situation. Everyone says you will be here before we know it, but I’m telling you, hurry up! What a strange anticipation.
Love,
Dad
(P.S. Yet another strange thing – that’s the first time I’ve ever signed something “love, Dad”.)