One Week of Knowing - Week 6

Sweet child of ours, it’s been one week since I learned of your existence, one week since I peed on a stick and told Erik of the thrilling news. I had him meet me in the school park where we play ball with our only semblance of a child, Saydee. This is the school that you will someday go to.

So many feelings, thoughts, hopes and fears have raced through my head this week, beginning with your survival. You are now six weeks old (calculated very bizarrely in my opinion), barely a sesame seed. It’s a special time in that we don’t get to shout it to the world that you are with us. We have to wait till our ten week appointment to make sure you have a heartbeat. At that point we will be secure enough sharing with the world.

I am most excited to tell my parents, your “nana and papa” or “magi and pagi” or whatever beautiful name stumbles off your tongue when you are big enough to speak. Grandma and Grandpa are in their sixties, happily (emphasis on HAPPY) enjoying retirement, free-time and doing whatever they feel like doing whenever they feel like doing it. I sense they are in a period where they want to do something else, go somewhere else, but you my dear, may stop them dead in their tracks. Or you may not and we would just have to visit them J I can only imagine, and hopefully one day, I might have the pleasure of knowing through you, that the greatest reward a child can give you is a grandchild. I cannot fathom the love your grandparents will have for you; just the same as I cannot fathom the love I will have for you. My heart is already bursting!

Your dad’s parents, though he should speak for them, will be beyond elated. Grandma Johnson will spoil you. Know that now, well, you’ll experience that soon enough. I wonder if Grandpa Johnson will cry. He has such a soft heart.

My mind is already racing to the finish line, pushing you out of me, pulling you on to my chest, hearing your shrill alive cry. Speaking of crying… the thought has me in tears already.

This is just the first post. Many more to come as my mind races on the daily, nightly… constantly. Please survive, my strong child. I need to meet you.