Dear Nellie Rose

Dear baby Nellie,

I had a really horrible dream last night, little girl. I’m not going to go into details here, because I don’t care to relive it again but it involved us never getting to meet you alive. It was terrible and I woke up sobbing. I woke your daddy up from crying and he held me until I calmed down, rubbing my belly and assuring me you were fine. When he asked what the dream was about, I could barely even speak the words because they were so terrible. As if to reassure me, you squirmed and kicked a few times. “See?” daddy said, “She’s fine, baby. She’s fine.”
I am sure this will be just the first of many hysterical episodes I have in regards to you. I recently expressed fear and concern to some women I talk to online about losing you at this stage, and how I don’t know what I would do or how I’d function. Not after carrying you for so long, feeling you move and seeing your little face. They told me to try and keep faith that you’ll be okay, but to be prepared for a lifetime of similar worries. They said you have to take it one day, one step at a time… Many of them have babies who are 5-6 months old and still worry about them. They check to make sure they’re breathing when they sleep. I suppose this is what motherhood is all about, isn’t it baby girl?
We are getting so very close to meeting you. Daddy and I had a discussion about when we think you’ll get here. He says the 10th of January. I said it would be lovely for you to come on that day, because that is the day your great-grandpa Ralph and (late) great-grandma Nellie got married. I think it would be special for her namesake to be born on her wedding anniversary. I said I think you’ll come on the 15th of January. Mommy’s birthday is on the 9th, so we could very well share the same birthday, my sweet little girl.
Of course, you could surprise the hell out of both of us and make your appearance next week. But you won’t, will you? You will wait until you are full-term, which will be December 27th. You can come anytime after that and I can breathe easier knowing that you won’t have to spend time in the NICU.
I just wanted to say that I love you, Nellie Rose. That dream really shook me up but it was just a dream. I want you to know that I’ve loved every second of this pregnancy. Every kick, every squirm.. Every time I feel you it’s a reminder that I’m never, ever alone and that you are with me. I know that you will leave my body and become your own little entity. One day, you won’t want to cuddle with me or even hold my hand. There will come a time when you probably won’t be able to stand being around me (hello, teenagers!) but to me, you will always be this sweet little being that resided in my body for over half a year of my life. Nothing can change that, nothing ever will.
I love you, baby girl.
P.S. You have the hiccups right now. It’s such a sweet feeling, I have tears in my eyes because I’m so grateful to feel them.