2 Weeks, 2 Days

Are you there?
I've been thinking about writing this for you for a few days now.
And honestly, it's kind of strange to write for someone that may or may not currently exist.
Let me tell you a little bit about you:
If I'm counting correctly, you're probably just a day or two old.
I'm thinking that probably on or around October 15th, you came to life.
And though it's late and though it's slightly weird to be writing for possibly no reason at all, I want to write for you.
I want you to know what I was thinking and feeling during the days that I wondered about your conception.

Because I don't know:
Are you there?
I keep wondering this.
It pervades my every thought right now.
I'm curious, hopeful, excited, guarded.
I'm just going about my days, knowing that soon I will be privy to your existance.
Or inexistance.

But I think you're there.

So here's the thing.
As it turns out, I can string together a few sentences pretty well.
And I feel like I've been handed the opportunity of a lifetime:
I can write for you, from start to finish.
You will some day be able to look back on these words when you are grown and you will know what it was like for me.
These days of hopeful wonderings.
The agony of the waiting.
(Are you there?)
The Plan B I tell myself in case things don't work out right.
They may not work out right this time but sooner or later, you will be mine.

I'm capable of waiting.

This will eventually be bound into a baby book for you.
"Letters For My Baby."
Or something like that.
I will document this journey for the both of us and I will share it with our family and friends soon after I am positive of your existance. I wanted to start right here and now, and not wait until I know for sure.
Because so much goes on for me, right from the start.
Right from when I know that you are a possibility that I can hope for.
(Are you there?)

I want you to know this most of all:
I love you already.
And I'm thinking about you constantly.
I'm already planning for you.
I'm mentally preparing for the long road ahead.
I will be tired.
I will be sick.
You will be worth it.

And I'll only ask one thing of you:
Please work hard in there.
I need you to grow strong, to stitch yourself together in the most perfect of ways.
You follow your blueprint and I'll follow mine.
Though they are invisible, the plans are unshakable, time-tested, proved durable and life-giving.
Just...grow.

This is the beginning of my pregnancy journal.
My first entry.
I'm crossing my fingers and counting the days--I should know in less than two weeks.
(Little One, that is an ETERNITY.)

Work, baby.
Divide, multiply, grow.
Soon you should find your home inside me.
Find a good spot, snuggle in, and don't move for anything.

Sending you my love, through space and time and wishes and dreams,

Mama