Waiting for you...

An open letter to you, my little baby as you are 12 days away from being born...

I'm sitting here writing this at nearly 38 weeks pregnant. Although it's Christmas and a busy time of year, my thoughts are consumed with thoughts of you. You wake me up early in the morning, today you granted me a lie in until 4.30 am. I'm used to it now, although the tiredness is shattering. I read a book and browse social media until it becomes an acceptable time to get up.

I think about you, what you will look like and what the mornings will look like in 2 weeks time. I look over at your crib at my bedside and imagine you laying there. The image is just out of reach though. I wonder if you will be a boy or a girl and what we will call you. I browse baby names on the internet, loving you so completely and wanting you to be a part of our family, yet feeling strangely removed, as I don't really know you yet.

I worry that I have a feeling of impending doom, that everything may not go well. I worry about your movements, and encourage you to kick me. I struggle to move and walk now and all I want is to fast forward time these few days until you are here, hopefully safely, earthside with us. I worry that something will happen to you before you are born and I worry that when you are born you will be healthy, that you will stay with us. I know that it is a mother's worry that will never really go away but it is so unsettling.

You are our last baby, I am sure of that, and it brings me a feeling of content. I don't like being pregnant, and as I look over at your elder brother sleeping beside me this morning I know how fast time flies and that I shouldn't be wishing it away, but I am...I want these 12 days to fly by so I can hold you and meet you and know who you are, I want to start the beginning of the end of this phase of our lives.

I can't wait to buy pink floral babysuits or cute little knitted blue jumpers, I wonder how big you will be and whether you will suit any of the number of names that are swimming around in my head. I hope and pray that you will be ok, and that you know just how much you are loved, even before you are here, while we are still waiting for you.