A Letter to My Second Child, Written at 26 Weeks Pregnant

Dear Second Child of Mine,

I started writing this letter to you in my head last night, during a fever dream of sorts (I'm getting over the flu and therefore, so are you, I guess...). I felt you kicking in my belly and was reminded that while I've been super distracted by my sickness and taking care of a toddler and all of the work that's piling up around me as I rest in bed recovering, what matters most right now is keeping you safe and healthy amidst all of the chaos that surrounds us. 

What I want you to know is that while it appears from the outside that we're not ready for you at all, that we haven't thought about your impending arrival and are unprepared, this is not the case. We've been waiting for you all of our lives. 

Sure, at this point in my pregnancy with your big sister all of her clothes had been procured, washed, folded, placed in labeled drawers in her newly-painted dresser in her newly-decorated nursery--and all I've done for you is hastily go through her old clothes and pull out the unisex items, throwing them into paper grocery sacks--but you'll be a July baby and will be wearing only your diaper for the majority of the first few months anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

What I didn't know the first time around, I made up for by obsessing and perfecting all of the small, controllable details; but with you, I know how little these details actually matter once you're holding a new baby in your arms. Your sister taught me that all of the planning and painting and buying and folding will not make it easier to adjust to a new baby's presence in our lives, but will just add to my to-do list before you arrive, which is long enough and overwhelming enough already. [Although I do promise to wash and fold the clothes that are currently sitting in the grocery sacks--pinky swear.]

In many ways, you're lucky, because you won't have the pressure of 10 months of planning and waiting rush in on you the second you enter the world. You'll have the love and the excitement, but not the same amount of figure-it-outs-as-you-gos and nervous unknowns (although everything about you is an unknown, from your eye color to your personality to your sleep habits; oh please be the laid-back baby I've only heard about in Parenting Fairy Tales!). 

Your sister likes to press her ear against my belly and tell me about the noises that she hears "you" making. She fed you popcorn and milk from her sippy cup onto my belly the other night and she's already started planning the games that you'll play together and which toys she'll share with you.

​I know your experience of our family will be so different than hers has been thus far; you'll have her as your guide, your companion, your distraction, and in many ways, your competition, but she's just as excited as we are to meet you, and you're as wanted and as loved as a baby ever could be--despite our lack of preparation due to the curveballs that life has thrown our way in the 6.5 months since finding out that you were growing in my belly. 

You should also know, Dear Babe, that there was another baby between you and your sister, but that he or she didn't make it this far. I have to think that this is because you were the baby that we were supposed to have, supposed to meet, and supposed to love, and for that reason I'm even more confident that we're ready for you to be a part of our little family unit (in another 14-ish weeks, of course!). 

We're not perfect; we've all got a lot of growing to do, but we're your family and we feel so lucky that you're going to be ours.

Thanks for dealing with all of the loud coughing, fevers, and sniffles over the past week or so. Thanks for picking us. And thanks in advance for your understanding about your lack of exciting new clothing and hand-me-down everything... 

See you in July!

Love, 
Your Mama