Letter to Baby: Week 24

Hello little one! Are you enjoying the music your daddy is playing? It’s up loud because he’s in the next room painting furniture for your nursery and wouldn’t be able to hear it otherwise. I don’t mind, because I’ll bet you can hear it well and that might be fun for you. I just hope you’re not napping. The singer just cursed – don’t listen to that part.
I think it’s very cool that he’s painting your dresser. It has been in my family for as long as I can remember, and I’m excited we’ll get to use it with you. We’re going to put your changing pad on top of it, and put it in front of the big mirror on the wall in your room. Then when I’m changing your clothes (and other necessary items), you may enjoy entertaining yourself.
I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the bit of a bumpy ride you had a few days ago. I was in the hammock with your soon-to-be playmate Nate when the hammock came unattached and we fell. Poor Nate cried, but he was cradled in my arm so his little head didn’t hit the ground – I think it just scared him. And it terrified me. It upset me so much I still don’t like thinking about it and find it hard to write about.
I checked your heartbeat, and was so relieved to hear it thumping and thumping, but was still scared. I called the doctor, and she told me to lie down, and if I didn’t feel you moving well in 30 minutes, to come to the hospital. I was so worried about you, and frustrated. How was I supposed to be able to tell if you were okay? And I was upset because all I have wanted to do for these past six months is protect you. You gave me a couple of very gentle kicks, but I couldn’t stop worrying about you. So your daddy and I went to the hospital, where they hooked me up to monitors so we could listen to your heartbeat and evaluate your movements for a while.
I loved hearing your heartbeat, and was disappointed when the nurse turned down the volume so I could barely hear it. But soon I understood why. You began kicking and flipping so much, and each movement echoed on the monitor. It was the loudest, most wonderful noise! The nurse walked back into the room and said, “she’s definitely moving now.” Although I couldn’t feel all of the kicks that we could hear, I felt lots of them.
I said, “She wasn’t doing this at home, I swear.”
The nurse smiled knowingly, and said babies are notorious for being more active once the monitors are on. I’m sure she’s seen other freaked out moms and dads in her triage room, and she didn’t make me feel bad for needing reassurance.
After a half hour, she declared that you were just fine, and sent us home. I felt much better, but I can’t say I’ve stopped worrying about you. I guess that’s just what mamas do. But over the past few days, you’ve been kicking and playing, and each tiny jab heals me a little more. So, no more hammocks until you’re born. We’ll enjoy swinging together again soon, I promise.
Meanwhile, I realized today that thoughts of you have nearly completed their takeover of my brain. I was in a meeting at work, and as it ended a co-worker caught me as I was leaving and asked, “Have you started buying stuff?”
“For the baby?” I asked, excitedly, ready to launch into a description of each of your outfits hanging in your armoire.
Then I realized by the blank look on her face that she was referring to door prizes for our staff appreciation day. We are both on the door prize committee, and had just been discussing that in our meeting.
“Oh, you mean door prizes! Sorry!” I tried to recover. We laughed, and I attempted to describe some of the door prizes I had picked up, although it was hard to think clearly. I still had images of your new outfits in my head. But people are just going to have to forgive me.
We’re headed to your Grammy’s house tomorrow to spend Easter weekend – should be fun! I guess I should get out of this room so you can have some quiet and take a nap while I do some laundry. I’m so glad you’re doing well. Keep growing, and remember that lots of people love you – especially your mom and dad.