A letter to baby

Dear baby Dee,

Today is my birthday. I’m 24 years old; the age in which I will give birth to you. For some reason I never felt like I would ever get to this point in my life. Like I would just be 23 forever because I would never stop being pregnant with you and I would be 23 and pregnant forever. That got a little dark and twisty, sorry.

Tomorrow is even a bigger day than today is. Tomorrow we can officially start calling you a girl or a boy. We find out your gender tomorrow morning at 7:30. Momo, Nana and Papo, Aunt Cassie, Daddy and me are all going to the doctor together. Grandpa can’t be there because he is a lazy butt. When you get older and can start being sarcastic (my favorite trait, I hope you pick up lots of that), then we can be mean to Grandpa for not showing up.

It has been a very calming few weeks, but this week has been total torture for me. I can’t stop thinking if you are going to be a Charlotte, or Declan. Or maybe your name will change before then, but who knows. I just want to start buying you cutesy little baby stuff. I want to buy your crib (if you are a girl you are getting a white vintage crib, a boy – a black crib). I want to paint the room. Ah, its so so exciting and so so torturous to have to wait.

I really hope you cooperative with the ultrasound tech person. There are two at Dr. Mckernan’s office. One is a boy (kind of handsome, but don’t tell your father I said that) and the other is this lady who is super funny and even spoke to you en espanol when you were just a tiny little ball of cells growing in my uterus. Yes, I’m trying to gross you out because no I don’t want you to have sex before you are ready. I DO HAVE THE MOM GENE! And no, these are not MOM JEANS!

So don’t be mad at me but I totally had a glass of wine and went in a hot tub, the tub honestly wasn’t that hot, but ever since then I have felt really guilty. I just wanted to get that off my chest. Ok, and I had another glass of wine last weekend for daddy’s birthday. But it was a party. A surprise birthday party!! Whatt whatttt. But he came home early so it wasn’t even really a surprise but did you know that I throw kinda AWESOME parties. People tell me that. I like to cook for them, and plan them and find cute invitations and have people come and hang out and tell me how awesome I am at throwing parties. That is sad, but it is true. Just wait until you can read this and KNOW what I’m talking about. You will look back on your past birthday and be like “Wow, she IS the best party thrower this side of the Mississippi”! That is a fun word to spell, I will teach you the little song that goes along with it.

So today really I wanted to talk about pregnancy and all of the WEIRD things about it. Like did you know they say you shouldn’t eat cold deli meat because of some bacteria that could harm us? I think it is called Listeria. This, to me, is super stupid. I ate deli meat from the beginning and I apologize in advance if you have any weird growths or anything like that. But if I’ve never gotten sick off of deli meat, and trust you me I eat a LOT of Subway, then why worry about it? Hmmm well I’ve already confessed my two glasses of wine and my one time in a hot tub so I’m glad that is off my chest. Back in the day pregnant women weren’t allowed to dye their hair (some still don’t because they believe the chemicals can seep through their brain or something. I still dye my hair. If you can believe it or not mommy is NOT a natural blonde. I’ve actually got quite dark hair. And it is twisty. Not curly and not really wavy, but twisty.

I hope to not stop calling you Deetus just because we find out if you are carrying boy or girl parts down there. I think that nickname will stick with you, which is funny because people will call you Deetus Dee. That makes me smile. And I apologize for it in advance. It was momo’s idea. She came up with it. Blame her.

I think, either way, you are going to be a pretty bad ass kid. I hope you want to do everything at least one time in your life. Ballet and baseball and painting and singing and band and football and when you are done with those things and you find something else you love we will ALWAYS support you, no matter what. As long as after your ballet recital, baseball game, art exhibit, choir practice, band practice or football game are over, you give me and your dad and a big hug and a kiss. We will try not to embarrass you, we swear to that. But sometimes it just happens. We think we are pretty cool but in 10 or 15 years from now, you won’t think we’re very cool. But we used to be. We go to concerts and bars and I even used to smoke (saying used to because I quit when I found out you existed and I’m really hoping not to start back up again when you exit my womb, oh and smoking is SO not cool). We like football a lot, and baseball a lot, and we like hanging out with our friends and being dorks. We hope you can see through the yelling at you to get your homework done and me screaming at your father for not changing the oil in my car to see that we are kind of awesome.

We made you, isn’t that awesome in itself??