Dear Baby Scrumplet,
Do you like your nickname? I hope you do, your father and I
plagiarized borrowed it from Roald Dahl, one of our favorite authors, whom you’ll have the pleasure of reading when you’re old enough.
You’re 17 weeks in the making now, and your Mama? Sucks.
I have only taken one belly shot 3 weeks ago, and have no idea when the next one will be.
I have not written down in excitement, any belly measurements or weight gain or new sensations such as feeling you move (and I did, at 12 weeks, you sure are active!).
I have not been very diligent with letting you ‘listen’ to classical music, or singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ to you, like I did with your big brother when he was gestating.
I have not shown you off via my growing belly to my friends, as I’ve been mostly hibernating at home, having been hit hard by two flu viruses in the past 3 months, and having to care for your big brother.
I hope you forgive me, my dear one.
Because it does not mean I love you any less, Scrumplet.
It does not mean I am any less excited about you.
It does not mean you are not as wanted, because ohmygod, I dreamed of you long before you were conceived, my ache for your existence penetrating my very core, and when we found out you were coming, I cried tears of joy.
All this just means that I am now going to be a Mama of two, not one.
I am more experienced, I know what to expect and I know what to do (at least, I hope so).
I also have more on my plate, with your big brother at the stage where he needs me more than ever.
So know this, Scrumplet…… Already, I love you fierce. I love you with all my heart.
And I look forward to meeting you as much as I did your brother.
And, with lovelinks #33.
Did you feel the same way about your subsequent pregnancies?