Dear Daughter

It's been awhile!

As always I've been busy working away and trying to get things ready for baby E's impending arrival.

5 weeks to my due date!

I wouldn't be upset if she wanted to come a bit ahead of schedule though and join us before Christmas.

I thought I'd try to sneak in at least one more Dear Daughter before she arrives. I anticipate the next few weeks being a little bit hectic what with finishing up work (and trying to max out on hours for the sake of my bank account and my mat leave pay), getting all of the final things we need (changing pad, bassinet and bath tub - both borrowed - a carrier wrap for stroller-less walks, a diaper bag, etc etc), and also getting ready for the holidays.

So hopefully I'll get a few more posts in before Dec 22 (or whenever she decides to make her outside world debut).

Dear Daughter,

We are starting to get really excited about meeting you. 

You're due date is quickly approaching and you are also quickly running out of room in my belly. 

Your movements are way bigger now. Not so many kicks and punches but lots of rolls. My entire stomach will lurch from one side to the other when you do those big movements.

I'm not sure, but you may have dropped. 

Suddenly my bladder feels less reliable when I'm standing. 

Peeing my pants is a real and genuine concern.

As excited as I am to get to hold you and smell your sweet little head (don't babies' heads always smell so sweet?) I'm going to miss the selfishness of carrying you with me, feeling you start to stir and letting your dad know when to feel your gymnastics routine, the now all-too familiar pulsing when you've got the hiccups. 

Lately I catch myself sitting in your room and picturing you in there.  

Today I caught your dad nesting - he washed all of your blankets and sleepers and onesies and coordinated your outfits to your hats and socks/booties for when we bring you home from the hospital. 

God I love your dad. 

Tonight is my last night shift at work (!!!!) for 10 months.

Then I'll be on permanent night shift duty... unless you like to sleep. I hope you like to sleep.

Then I have 10 more shifts before I start my maternity leave on December 8th. 

The countdown is on!

Since this is likely the last time I'll write to you before you arrive, thank you for such an easy & enjoyable pregnancy.

The insane heartburn I could have done without, same goes for the occasional super uncomfortable jimmy leg, but I'd do it all over again. 

I'm going to miss looking down and seeing you move across my belly and feeling your movements (maybe not so much the kicks to the ribs) but I can't wait to look down and see your sleeping face. 

And your crying face. 

Let's be serious, you're going to cry. Probably a lot. 

And if I get frustrated with you, I don't mean it. 

I'll still love your crying face. 

Your dad and I are nervous about me going into labour.

He's worried he'll be at work and have to rush home. He's so afraid that he'll miss your birth.

I'm nervous about the entire process, truth be told. 

I'm afraid I won't recognize labour when it starts (sounds dumb but I like to worry. Let's hope you don't get my worrying genes).

But we both know that it ends with us becoming parents. 

Decent parents, hopefully. 

We'll try our best to give you everything you could possibly need and to keep you happy.

Except a hamster/gerbil/rodent-type pet.

We already decided that you have a cat and a dog and therefore don't need another stinky little pet. 

Sorry if you had your heart set on one.

See you on the outside, little girl!

You have a lot of people anxiously waiting to meet you.

We love you very very much.

Dear Daughter

Dear daughter,

You don't know it, but you went on your first camping trip this past weekend. 

You should be proud, we hiked about 5 km in to Algonquin park to set up our camp in the rain. 

And your mom only cried once. 

*Your mom has never cried while camping before. She blames the hormones, being somewhat out of shape, and how uncomfortable backpacks are when you can't do up the waist strap and the weight is fully on your shoulders. 

What I thought about a lot while my body worked out the aches was this: why did I ever give my body a hard time for not being "perfect"?

Why was I ever hung up on how flat my stomach was?

Now my belly is round and full and and I catch myself smiling at my profile in mirrors.

It has never felt more perfect to me - and that's because I know you're warm and safe in there. 

Why did I ever size up my hips and wish them to be smaller?

They are as wide as they need to be to make your entry into the world as easy as possible (hopefully!). 

Why did I ever wish for my body to be anything but what it is?

It is 50% responsible for creating your tiny heartbeat and is 100% responsible for making sure you grow healthy and strong until we get to meet you.

I hope that, throughout your long, healthy, and happy life, I am able to instil in you a sense of respect for your body and that you never look in a mirror and hate what you see. 

I hope you feel beautiful everyday for all the things that you are, inside and out. 

And while I hope I can teach you these things, I hope that you remember that you taught me this as well. 

How could I ever think ill of the body that is giving me you?

I hope I can remember to always look past the sags, wrinkles, and extra weight here and there and remember that my body did what I wanted it to perfectly: created you.

So, thank you, body,

You're perfect.

And thank you, dear daughter, for teaching me this. 

Dear Daughter

*This original post was inspired largely by John, though he doesn't know it. More recently I've been inspired to turn it into a series of posts by a friend who is writing notes to her unborn child for him or her to have forever *

Dear Daughter,

Recently your father and I were at our friend's wedding. It was a beautiful wedding, heartfelt and cozy. Also the chicken was probably the best chicken I've ever eaten at a wedding. Your dad ate all of his and the last half of mine. My stomach doesn't hold as much as it used to, now that you're growing bigger and pushing my organs aside for more space. 

At one point during dinner your dad turned to me, with emotion in his eyes (and admittedly a few beers in his system), and said, "imagine that one day we'll be at E's wedding." 

Though it is many, many years away, I hope you fall in love with someone like your dad. 

Someone who is kind and caring, someone who has a strong work ethic and a zest for the adventurous side of life, someone who will love you the way your father and I love each other.

You might be able to imagine that your dad almost cried during the father-daughter dance, thinking about himself dancing with you someday. 

Pregnancy (me) and beer (your dad) are obviously two great emotional stimulators. 

If you need a heads up, please watch our wedding video. Specifically my father-daughter dance with your grandfather. We both sobbed the entire time. 

I hope you have that same experience.

This is assuming that any partner you want to spend your life with will be able to make it to the house, passed the porch where your dad will be sitting, cleaning his shotgun.

I think he's mostly kidding when he says this. 

I hope he is.

We've also decided that any romantic partner you have needs to come to the door when picking you up. Honking from the driveway is unacceptable.

I promise we'll be nice. 

Considering your dad only finally - certainly - felt you kicking his hand through my belly a few nights ago, I think it's safe to say that we're getting ahead of ourselves. But we're so excited to watch you grow up and can't help but think about every amazing thing you might experience. 

Don't feel you need to grow up too fast, though. 

Oh, dear daughter, you are already so loved. 

With love,

your mother (who will likely embarrass you throughout your life, considering I may have started doing so 4 months before your birth)

P.S. Don't feel you need to grow up too fast and don't feel you need to wake up every few hours overnight either. Ample sleep will make us all happier. And trust me, you'll wish for all the sleep you can get once you hit your teens and adulthood.