Monday, August 16, 2010

a letter to Henry

hank and me, on grove avenue

Dear Henry,

I'm back at work now, for awhile. It's funny because I keep thinking about how I repeat myself five times a day to each of my classes, and every piece of literature I read aloud to my students, you hear over and over, again and again. They say that whatever the baby hears in the womb will comfort them or make them happy after they're born. They say babies can develop preferences for these things. Everyday I wonder if you'll already love Ray Bradbury and Arthur Miller; I wonder if you'll enjoy poetry and meaningful quotes right from the get go. Rather than a lullaby, you'll relax by listening to me go on about Transcendentalism and early American poetry; you'll be lulled to sleep with the sounds of Ginsberg and Vonnegut. It makes me laugh to imagine this. Whatever the outcome may be, I'm glad you get to hear my voice so much throughout the day. During the summer when I wasn't working I would still talk to you, but I don't think you heard my voice anywhere near this much. I feel like you're going to be able to recognize it from across the room from the moment you're born.

I fall more in love with our future every single day. Today my students presented projects where they told the class all about their lives. A few of the boys talked about how much they loved their mothers, and it made me positively glow to hope that someday you'd be like that, so proud to tell everyone how much you love your mama. Your Dad and I are counting down the days as they fly by. We are almost into the third trimester and it's hard to believe you've been growing inside of me for over half a year. We're working hard to find a house to welcome you home to, and in a couple of weeks we will be picking out all the furniture for your future room. Last night we looked through all of the baby items we've accumulated so far, mainly clothing and books, and talked again about what we think you're going to be like. We discussed all your possible futures, and it was fun to imagine you all grown up, a twenty-something young man falling in love for the first time, finding his way in the world, and experiencing this sweet, sweet life. Your dad talked for awhile about how no matter who you are, no matter what you are like, he will accept you for always. I know not all sons are that lucky, and it makes me so happy to be married to a man like your dad. You'll find this out on your own, but he is just so accepting, so open, and he is able to express and share his emotions and thoughts freely and comfortably. I'm so glad you have such a wonderful man to look up to.

As these last three months wind down and as we prepare for your arrival, I've felt more in love with everything- you, your Dad, the world, our family, I've been in love with love and the idea of simplicity and happiness. I've never felt more at peace with where I am, and the other day I was thinking about how odd it was to be exactly where I'd always hoped to be. To step back and realize that is amazing- and you are one of the major parts of this realization. I've always wanted to be a Mom, and now, to be on this journey with your father, the love of my life, it's just unreal. Growing up I envisioned this LIFE, this place I wanted to be, all of the things I wanted to do and accomplish. And here I am, right in the middle of that. Married to your father, the most amazing man I've ever known, loving and laughing every single day, buying our first home together in a slow-paced, small town, having you and being able to comfortably stay home to take care of our growing family...my childhood and teenage dreams are becoming fully realized, and I feel more than grateful for every single blessing in my life. There isn't a moment that goes by that I don't send a silent thank you out in the universe for all of this goodness being manifested in our little corner of the world.

It's funny because I always thought that parents are made parents to teach their children all they know. They are on this earth to be models, guides, and mentors. But even though you aren't quite here, I feel like I've already learned so much from you. You've made me less selfish, more patient, and extra mindful of the choices I make and the thoughts I allow into my mind. I want to be a better person for you. I want to show you that it's okay to love people and to be happy and to try and spread that happiness wherever you go. I smile more, I focus more, I try to relax and enjoy the small things. I want to be a good Mom. Your Mom. So as these months speed by, and each day brings us closer to meeting you for the first time- closer to saying, "Happy birthday sweet Henry," I will focus on being the best person I can be, and in turn I think that will help me become the best Mom I can be. I know that it will be hard, and to be honest, I'm scared to death...but I think that the love your father and I share, and the love we already have for you will keep us on this beautiful path, smiling and whistling as we move through life, clicking our heels along the way.

See you soon, Henry.

Love,
Your Mom

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