It's been a little over an hour since your Dad called me. He was breathing heavy and his voice was shaking. He was talking to himself a little, saying, "I need to calm down" and then "Just a minute, I need to take off my sweatshirt. I'm so hot." He told me, "It's starting" and said he was taking your Momma to the mall so she could walk around. "The mall?" I asked. "Maybe the hospital . . . ?" He said, "Do you wanna tell her that? I already tried."
Your Momma is a strong woman. She is so smart and confident and brave. If you could have any Mother in the world, she is the one you want. You are going to learn a lot from her over the next many years. And your Daddy, he is so loving. So dedicated and accepting and supportive. The way he cares is going to open up the world for you, Little One. You are his whole life, and you have been since he was a boy. You are going to feel so safe with your Daddy's protection. You've won the lottery, Baby.
So your Daddy and Momma took off for the mall! Your Daddy has been calling and texting me for the last hour, giving me updates. He told me they were waiting for the contractions to be 3 to 5 minutes apart for a solid hour before going to the hospital.
That's when it came back to me. Your Damma, my Mom, sitting on our living room couch. It's 1979, I'm eight years old. The carpet is blue, the curtains are heavy, and the sky outside is dark. I think it's 5:00 AM. Damma is breathing funny and making little marks on a pad of paper beside her on the couch. I am watching from the hallway, gripping the handle of my overnight bag and trying to be brave. My older sister is in her room, and my Damma is rushing around, making sure everything is taken care of. We're all waiting until the pains are 5 minutes apart for one hour. It's all so strange to me, but I know it means the baby is coming. Your Daddy was about to arrive.
And now we are waiting for you. Your bedroom has blue and pink clothes folded in neat piles. Your bed is made; your sheets are waiting to cuddle you. You will be swaddled up tight and rocked and sung to. You'll be kissed and held and loved on.
I babysat your brother a few days ago. At 2 1/2 he is so clever. Animated. Smart. His personality is strong and fills up the entire room, just like his voice. We sat under a blanket and watched cartoons, his hands squeezing and petting mine, and me crying little, thankful tears. He's going to be the best big brother a Baby could ask for.
My phone just chimed indicating a new text message, and I almost jumped through the roof. Your Momma and Daddy are back at home. You must need to cook a little while longer. Days? Hours? Minutes? I'm not sure.
We're ready, Little One. I love you even though I don't know you yet! We're ready for you.