Dear Baby

We’ve hit the 35 day mark until my due date. Brent has started to whisper to Everly that if she’s in the mood to come early, (say around New Years) that he wouldn’t mind it one bit. Every day he tells me how he is just so ready to have her in his arms.

Me - I’m torn. Even as I grow increasingly uncomfortable from baby feet that repeatively kick me in the ribs and a body that moves at half the speed it used to - I can’t help but think that my days of having Evie all to myself are coming to an end. She’s safe and warm inside of me and I can nurture and protect her in a way that I will never be able to again once she is born.

I am so ready to memorize the curve of her nose, the smell of her skin, the sound of her cry. I dream of watching her sleep in her father’s strong arms… but these last 35 or so days have become increasingly precious to me. They are all that remain of this amazing journey she and I have taken together. Currently, we exist in the same breath and live from the same blood - and I am in no rush to end it.

Love,

M