Dear Tiny Human,
Today, we had an appointment at the gynae’s. The gist of it is, we wanted to make sure that it is possible to conceive you this month.
There are people who will think that this saps the romance out of sexytime and it makes conception oh so tiresome. Perhaps. But do not think for one minute that creating you was an act of duty! I can tell you, for sure, that it is NOT. It’s just that I don’t want to leave things to chance and end up waiting for years and years without knowing why. After eight months, it’s obvious that we need some direction and expert help.
People who aren’t in these shoes can never understand my feelings. How badly I long to feel you kick my stomach (how alien is THAT!), how much I want to hear your heart beat go doosh doosh doosh over the ultrasound, how I want to know if you resemble me (you lucky kid) or your Dad (hmm).
The reality is, when you are finally here, I will probably cry my heart out because you are crying and I don’t understand why. I will probably wonder why I ever wanted a baby so much when you wake up at 1am, 2am, 3am…you get the drift. I will probably yell at your Dad a little. Or a lot. I will probably want to throw you or myself into a wall out of sheer desperation. I will probably feel guilty for feeling angry at you.
Which is why I am documenting our journey now. So that I can look back during these moments of panic and guilt and frustration, and be grateful for your presence.
Don’t make me wait too long, will you?
Love,
your impatient Mommy
Yannisms 