I know you're still hiding in the comfort of my belly, but already you're teaching me patience. You'll come to find out that your mom is not the patient parent. Your dad is. So waiting for you is like watching the grass grow. I swear the more I wait, the longer it takes. But in the past few days, finally, I've been feeling you kick (I think...could be gas ;) ). I've been waiting 21 weeks to feel you kick. I treasure my otherwise slightly mundane doctor's appointments (stepping on the ever tipping scales and "lab tests" that involve a small cup are really not that thrilling) for one reason: I get to hear your heart beat. The doctor wiggles that wand around my belly, there's a squishy sound, then your pitter patter. And I'm calm. Because I know you're there.
But impatience is not far behind. It's hard to describe how excited I am to meet you. I think I've been waiting for you longer than I ever realized. If you ask your Grandma Christensen, she'll probably tell you that I was a mom before I could properly ride a bike. It's something in my blood. Something in me has been waiting for you for an expanse of time longer than I can comprehend. So when I feel those little nudges, I feel calm. You're there. And people tell me I'll get sick of the kicking, but I like to think that I won't. Because every kick from you is one kick closer to your arrival. It's reassurance to a very impatient mom that you're coming, you're growing.
So I apologize in advance for being so impatient. But for now, just know that my impatience is quite simply a desperate wish to see you. Finally. To wrap you up safe. You may never leave the house until you grow big enough to push your way out, that's how much I'll love you. But you will. You'll grow big and strong, and always know, that even when I might have moments that seem irrational, like when you color on the wall and I'm not so much mad that the wall is colored so much as I am that it doesn't match, that I will try. And I will always be there to wrap you up.
That - that I can be patient enough to do. Always.
Love,
Mom
But impatience is not far behind. It's hard to describe how excited I am to meet you. I think I've been waiting for you longer than I ever realized. If you ask your Grandma Christensen, she'll probably tell you that I was a mom before I could properly ride a bike. It's something in my blood. Something in me has been waiting for you for an expanse of time longer than I can comprehend. So when I feel those little nudges, I feel calm. You're there. And people tell me I'll get sick of the kicking, but I like to think that I won't. Because every kick from you is one kick closer to your arrival. It's reassurance to a very impatient mom that you're coming, you're growing.
So I apologize in advance for being so impatient. But for now, just know that my impatience is quite simply a desperate wish to see you. Finally. To wrap you up safe. You may never leave the house until you grow big enough to push your way out, that's how much I'll love you. But you will. You'll grow big and strong, and always know, that even when I might have moments that seem irrational, like when you color on the wall and I'm not so much mad that the wall is colored so much as I am that it doesn't match, that I will try. And I will always be there to wrap you up.
That - that I can be patient enough to do. Always.
Love,
Mom
2 comments:
I LOVE the kicking! I have never gotten sick of it. I actually miss it after they are born. I guess it just gives me comfort knowing that the baby is there and okay!
These words brought me to tears, especially the "waiting forever mummy" part. Well, you will receive the first most amazing gift in 20 week!
---And many more~ in the future:)
Think about that: this amazing gift is not a one-time-done thing, instead, it will keep opening up layers and layers of love, wishes, surprises, hopes, and happiness for you.
Hold on there, my friend, this is definitely a great deal!:)
And forgive my non-native English, editor:P
Li Hong
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