It's like waking up, being here now.  Being here with you, really, which I suppose is a strange thing to say since you're still largely a big bundle of cells rapidly duplicating.  I've felt guilty that I'm not more excited, that I'm not somehow more bonded to you.  I've met women who seem to know their baby before its born.  Right now, though, it seems like we're mostly sharing the same space.  Because I don't feel drastically, starkly different.  I'm still me.  I've just been exhausted and insanely nauseous for the past four weeks.

I'm excited to meet you, though, when you make your appearance.  I hope you feel all the love and joy that is your due.  I hope you feel the warmth of our home and trust our embrace.  Because you will be loved.  I hope you have no doubt about that.