Friday, November 6, 2009

Letter #2

You are alive.

You make sure I know this, turning, kicking, pushing and pulling to get my attention. Every time you move, I am reminded just how alive you are. That we are alive together for this precious period of time, and that at some point, you will be ready to take on the world, and then you will be your own stunning person.

I talk to you all the time now, like I am a little bit crazy. I apologize to you when I sneeze, hoping it didn't wake you from a perfect slumber. I try to purr to you at bedtime, since you always seem to be up and ready for fun right as I rest my head on the pillow. I try reasoning with you, bargaining, explaining to you that it is bedtime, and we are all going to sleep, the three of us in one bed. I sing "Goodnight My Someone," wishing that sweet dreams be yours, dear, if dreams there be.

I have given you a personality, which is surprisingly feisty. For some reason, I imagine your kicks are messages for me to slow down, take notice, like you are tapping from the inside to get my attention, stomping your feet so I take notice, and I find myself saying, "Alright, alright... you're right, I know. I'm sorry." I like that you are feisty, not afraid to speak up when it's important, even as tiny as you are.

I danced at a wedding the other night, to Michael Jackson. I danced like I wasn't six months pregnant, in four-inch heels, not stopping till I got enough. I bet that was as fun for you as it was for me.

You know all those times you hear me laughing? That's because of your dad. He makes me laugh, all the time, and he'll make you laugh soon, too.

Your dad loves you an awful lot. You're lucky you got him as a dad. He's ordered you about a thousand books already, all the best ones, and he stayed up late after work painting your new room. He talks about you all the time, making plans. Today he was making plans for a sandbox, imagining you out there with your buckets and rakes, inventing your own games and building sand cities. He even started recording classic cartoons, which he claims is "research" for your impending arrival, but I think he just wants an excuse to watch Pink Panther.

It occurred to me yesterday that you will be born in 2010. It's like you're a futuristic baby! It's totally cool. And no, we still don't have jetpacks.

I know. I know. I'm eating way too much Mexican food. I can't help it. I hope you like spicy food as much as I do.

We have four more months to go, you and I, before you decide you are ready to see this world for yourself. I'm having the best time with you. I mean it. I hope you're comfortable, and feel safe and protected and loved. I get these waves of chills still -- goosebumps of happiness. I'm certain you must feel that, too.

I hope you feel how happy we are.

You know how I know I love you? Because I've gained 30 pounds, I can't tie my shoes, my back hurts, I can't sleep, I can't eat sushi or drink wine and I haven't had a bite of brie cheese or a cup of real coffee in six months, and yet I am quite possibly the happiest person on the planet.

That must be love.

And just as I typed that, you kicked me. I guess you love me too.


  1. Ok, because of you a woman on the other side of the world got tears in her breakfast cereal.. :D Lucky baby, and lucky you too! :) I'm a down to earth person, but children are truly magical. I have two, and we've decided that's enough. Still, I often wish I could be pregnant just one more time. And have that little, pink, confused, squeeking bundle in my arms again.

  2. ahhhh i too just got tears but in my lunchtime coffee that i shouldn't be drinking but maybe I'm drinking extra for you. again thank you for sharing with us. love you and your family

  3. yay for your futuristic baby- what a lucky one to come in to so much love.

  4. Not wishing to be a dissenter or to throw cold water over precious moments, but I thought this blog was about food. Could you maybe have a separate baby-type blog, perhaps?

  5. Thank you Sukkerungen, Verdesita and Alana -- it's fun having all of you with me on this adventure. And Anonymous, I miss the cooking and the recipes, myself, believe me. Right now my kitchen is in boxes as I move, but I'm looking forward to returning to the stove. I hope you'll join me there when I return! (And no to the baby blog, but thank you for the suggestion.)

  6. Your letters are making me cry! So beautiful. It's clear from what you describe that you are going to be great parents.

  7. i love love love how you write. so happy for you and your newcoming family ~

  8. My oh my, this letter is precious. I love that you're sharing these exciting and wondrous moments with us. So lovely!

  9. What a gift you have for carrying emotion in your words! I'm sure that if we can feel such strength of love from you from words alone, the child growing instead you must be thoroughly immersed.

  10. Sara, I so enjoy these posts. Your blog isn't just about food--it's about you, your husband, and your life's ups and downs. Thanks for sharing all of it.

  11. Oh, Sara Reddy Coyne, you are going to be such a great mom! Your letter to your child is so beautiful - I'll bet you the baby just felt the swell of love as you wrote. I think my husband and I - getting ready to celebrate our very first wedding anniversary - will begin this journey, whatever lies ahead, soon. Letters like yours buoy the soul of the future mom and, as I can see, pretty much everyone! LOVED it....
    GOOD LUCK and can't wait to keep reading!

  12. Sara,
    The baby is very well loved. And both you and Paul will make the best parents. Having children is so amazing. You fall in love more and more everyday and each day you wonder if you could possibly love this child any more. And each day, like magic, you do. I'm so happy for you and Paul. I love the description of him nesting. So sweet. BTW, pay attention to the baby's sleep rythym. It's typically the same for a month or two after he's born. Awake at 10 as you prepare to go to sleep. Same when his little self is beside you instead of inside you. So, so, so happy for you all.
    Lots of love,

  13. Oh this made me cry with happiness. You are so wonderful, and that little tyke is a lucky one. Sending you lots of love, to add to pot.

  14. So lovely. Such a gift to be so present for your baby.