My sweet little Peanut,
You're not even born yet, and already I feel like I have to apologize.
It's really, really unfair to be a second child. With your sister, I can't tell you how many hours I spent sitting and thinking about her. Talking to her, reading to her, singing to her. Rubbing my belly and dreaming about her little face.
I was light during my pregnancy with Sis. Which, of course, is ironic, given that I was as big as I'd ever been (until now).
It's not that you're any less loved, belive me. You've already got me under your teeny, tiny thumb.
But the time and energy I have to devote solely to you is so much less. I'm not light the way I was two and a half years ago. In so many ways, my soul is heavy.
It seems this pregnancy has been harder on me in just about all arenas. There are so many more demands on my little body, from the 26 pounder I have to cart around on top of you, to the quick little energizer bunny I chase around all day, to even the soccer kicks I have to endure - and I'm talking about sister while changing her diaper. I truly hope you don't have some kind of damage from getting kicked and punched and elbowed (frankly, I hope I don't, too.).
It's not just that. It's the amount I have left in my reserves at the end of the day - which is pretty much zilch.
I wish I had the energy to sit and dream about your little face and who you will become the way I did with Big Sister. Instead, I find myself nodding off and literally dreaming instead.
It was the first trimester yuckies, which I think we survived pretty well. Then I had a sinus infection that, because I can take no meds, lasted for weeks on end. Then early spring allergies kicked in. Now, your Daddy has been gone for three weeks, home just long enough to get the whole household sick and is gone again. You know better than anyone, 'cause you're there on the inside: I'm exhausted.
You must feel like we just can't catch a break. I know I sure do. It all leaves Mommy so wiped out.
Please know that in my soul, I am so beyond grateful for you. It's just this little body of mine that can't quite keep up.
One more week, sweet boy. That's what you and I have to survive, and then I think we'll have a little more time and energy to enjoy each other. Summer time has never, ever looked so good. Especially since, given the timing of your arrival, our summer will be quite extended.
We're gonna make it, my little man. One more week.
Love, and love and love,