Dear Little Guy,
Your dad and I spent a nice Christmas vacation at Newport Beach in Oregon. We took Austin with us, and he was so excited to run and be chased by all those waves. On Christmas morning, your dad fixed me a cup of tea while we were getting showered and ready for the day. As soon as I took my first sip, I immediately started getting sick. I had been a little weak most of the weekend, but we didn't think much of it til then. Dad said he knew exactly what was wrong, and on our way home he bought a box of pregnancy tests. Sure enough, there they were: two pink lines.
We were scared. Too scared to be excited. You see, you have a big sister and a big brother, but they are both in Heaven. We were scared that you might leave us too, and we knew our hearts couldn't handle any more pain.
One day, around 12 weeks, I found a pair of shoes that I knew would look great on you. And you would match your dad! I was afraid if I bought them, I would jinx you and you would never get to wear them. So I started crying, right there in the middle of the store. But then I realized that it didn't matter if you lived another day or another year or an entire century. You were still mine. I promised right then and there that I would love you with everything I have in me and I would make the absolute best of this pregnancy, no matter how long or short it might be and no matter how hard things got. And boy, did things ever get hard.
I was sick the entire first 6 months of pregnancy. I lost 15 pounds from being so sick. You didn't seem to like anything I ate. When we did find something, it would only last for about a week or so, and then it would make me sick too. If it wasn't for popsicles and Gatorade, I don't know how I would have survived. Eventually pancakes started staying down. And sometimes watermelon. And then scrambled eggs and toast. (Your dad and I have breakfast at the bowling alley at least once a week, and those ladies think all I eat is scrambled eggs and toast.)
Even after I started feeling better and gaining some weight, I would have lots of nightmares. Most nights when I would wake up, I would feel you wiggle around in my belly, and I'd start to feel better and fall back asleep. You're really good at doing that at just the right time. Like when Dad forgot about my birthday. I was so mad that I cried, and then I got mad that I cried. And then you wiggled and, well, it felt like you were petting me, reminding me that you were still there. That was all I needed for my birthday.
In April we found out that you were a boy. You were so proud of those boy parts that you wouldn't let the radiologist see anything else. You didn't let us see much of your face, but from what little we did see, we think you look a lot like your brother.
Every morning at work, I would have some juice and a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. I only worked for a couple hours because Chief wanted to make sure you stayed safe and healthy. On the way home, if I turned the radio up a little bit, you would start wiggling and dancing. You really like music. I got you some Belly Buds, like special speakers just for you while you're in my belly, so that you could listen to music with me while I was laying down. George Strait and Radney Foster are some of your favorites. So is your Uncle Andy. I'm sad that you won't get to meet him, but I'm so happy that his voice makes you happy.
The last couple months I've been on bed rest, and it's been rough. I never knew doing nothing could be so tiring! Other than being boring and exhausting, it's actually really nice to just relax and lay around the house. Most days Dad is at school, so I just nap on the couch while you stretch around in my belly. Austin really enjoys our nap time. He usually ends up passed out right next to me, with his head on my belly. He's been very protective lately, especially when Dad gets out the vacuum cleaner. I think he's excited about you. You two will be great friends.
It's the end of August, and I can't believe it's almost that time. You should be making an appearance any day now. If you're not here before Wednesday, Doc is evicting you. That's five days! It's starting to sink in, and I'm getting scared. This parenting thing is really new for your dad and me, and it's gonna be hard. It's even harder knowing that you won't ever get to be the little brother that you really are. I know there are going to be days that we don't get things right. And I'm sure there are going to be days that I miss your brother and sister really bad and I just want to sit in the floor and cry. But I think our good days will far outweigh our bad days. So please be patient with us as we figure this out.
There are so many people that have been praying for you and waiting for your arrival. You haven't even made it out of my belly yet, and you are already so very loved by so many.
Five more days. I can't wait to meet you!