8 years of waiting to meet you, little one

Dear little one,

This letter is 8 years in the making. 8 years of yearning to become a mother. The magical time has come, and I get say “I’m pregnant”. Something I’ve been longing to say out loud. And now the time is here.

You are currently the size of an avocado and doing back-flips already in my belly with your long limbs. I’ve heard your strong heartbeat a few times now, and I’ve seen you wave and stretch your legs. What a miracle it is to experience those milestones and get to watch you grow.

It’s amazing for me to look back at the last 8 years. I was in a different relationship facing different joys and hardships. I got to a point where I gave up hope on getting pregnant, and emotionally shut down for a long period of time. I let jealously of other pregnancies get the best of me, when in reality, my time was coming. It just wasn’t on my personal timeline. The universe had other plans.

My greatest lesson from infertility:

I learned that my soul was not yet ready for you.

And that you weren’t quite ready for me.

I needed to experience some low lows, test my own boundaries, break down and get back up, lean on other people, get professional mental help, and dig deep down within myself. All of that, I believe now, was to get prepared for you, and for this next stage of my journey. To give you my most complete self. To give your Dad my most complete self. And to give me my most complete self.

All of that sadness and yearning was for something. There was growth and realization. There was education on empathy, grace, and patience. There is light at the end of this. And that light is you, your Dad, and our families.

So here we are. Full circle. Ultimate joy and satisfaction in knowing that my soul has be preparing for your arrival all this time. I can’t promise you that I’m completely healed or that I ever will be, but I can promise you that I will be vulnerable in my imperfections, be able to confidently show you who I am, all while accepting you whomever you end up becoming. I’ll accept you for your successes and failures, and help you navigate any valley you go through because I’ve been somewhere similar too. And I’ll teach you that joy and grief can coexist.

I look forward to the adventures where you are my teacher, and where you are you showing me a different view of the world.

I look forward to seeing your Dad blossom into a good father. The happy and sad tears he’ll shed to show you it’s OK to feel your feelings. The sharing of a million answers to your million questions you’ll inevitably have about the world. The lesson of accepting people for who they really are and allowing them the space to be loved, will be a great one you will learn from him.

I look forward to seeing you play with your cousins. They each are so unique, kind, funny, intelligent, and genuinely good souls. And for you to meet your grandparents, aunts, and uncles, who are all so fantastic. Everyone is so excited for your arrival.

Lastly, my wishes for you are this simple:

I can’t wait to finally meet you, my darling son.

With love,

Mama