*Disclaimer: Yes, most of this is copied & edited to fit from my first letter to Harpie. However, I spent two hours staring at the screen until I finally re-read that first letter. & started crying, because it still fits. Enjoy, since most of you probably didn’t read it the first time around…
Dear Harpie Jr,
You are officially 5 weeks and 3 days “old,” although you are just starting out in life. I am hoping that the drunken romp in the sack did not scar you for life; I would prefer that you not tell your second-grade teacher that you were conceived by gin-induced copulation (by the way, this is not true. You are the product of blindfolded sex). You are currently the size of a appleseed, so basically a wee little alien that is dividing cells to make a heart, liver, etc. Sometimes I picture your development of a nervous system much like the Matrix scene with the pods & zapping wires. You’re pretty busy right now, & it’s exhausting to me. You’re kicking my ass & I secretly love it.
I love the nausea & the exhaustion because it reminds me that you are THERE! The cramping makes me rub my uterus and when I’m alone & nobody can hear me, I tell you to snuggle in for the long ride. Every night, your daddy gets down to my belly button & says, “Hang in there, Baby.” Listen to him, mmkay? Daddy knows best.
But HJ, we need to discuss the bloat. YOU ARE MAKING YOUR MOTHER FAT. People are staring at Momma, wondering WHY she ate 15 Twinkie’s last night after the drive-thru of McDonald’s (which she didn’t, thankyouverymuch). I look like I am 4 months farther along than I am & I’m a little peeved at you for it. How about this — I promise to never make you feel fat (especially if you have a vagina), if you’ll stop making me a custard cow that needs to go up two sizes.
Despite the bloat & morning sickness…I love you, HJ. I love you with every core of my being & I have loved you since the moment you showed up as a second line. It was instantaneous, self-sacraficing, & all-consuming. You may not have a heartbeat yet, but I pray that you can feel how much I adore you (because adoration oozes through my uterine lining, I promise). I dream of you daily — the person you will become & the curls you will inherit from Daddy. I want you to know that even though you may not have been “the first,” you are the most prayed for baby in existance in this moment. We want you just as much, & if not more, than the “first” baby. I hope you & I both never forget that.
I am so excited for you, & the promise that you hold.
Love,
Momma
