Dearest little bean,
We’re not really morning people over here. I mean, I’m not someone who sleeps in, per say, but I still detest mornings, or, morning people, rather. It takes time for me to wake up, and I like the quiet. I like to sit on the couch with a blanket and watch tv on the weekends. Even if it’s 7 am, which is great because there’s a lot of Cory, Topanga, Zack and Kelly to be watched on Saturday mornings. But that’s weekends…
Your dad and I both work full-time. Which requires getting up early. We both suck at it. I can’t even count the number of times both snooze alarms go off every morning (mine more than his). And then we have your brother, Albert the cat, that is…who likes to drive your mother INSANE in the morning! Meowing, knocking things over, walking on me, scratching to get under the covers…the list goes on. I sometimes threaten him, but I don’t really mean it. It’s that morning mood! I promise! Plus, it’s still been rainy and dark in the mornings, and all day, so it’s hard to get moving when the weather is in a dreary mood. All of your brother’s baseball games have been cancelled due to rain, except one, that we both missed because it was over by the time we got there and the second game that day was cancelled shortly thereafter. We’re sad. It’s his first year of HS baseball for crying out loud! Sunshine is coming. It better be.
I’ve decided, or I’m hoping, rather, that you’re not much of a morning person either. Because you refuse to move. Unless it’s me who’s moving my body, then you not-so-politely remind me that you’re trying to rest also by jabbing me. Usually on the right side. So then I get excited and put my hands on my belly, hoping to feel you from the outside so I can wake dad…but you always stop dead in your tracks, not budging.
This morning I rolled onto my back, and felt you move, only it wasn’t a jab, it was one your strange (but awesome, and somewhat nausea inducing) rolls or whatever acrobatics you’re performing in there. So I put my hands on my belly, for yet another try, and my belly was lopsided! You were holed up, nice and tight on the left side. I’m assuming the left since I had been sleeping on my left and the gravity nestled you right in, I don’t really know, but it’s not your usual spot. I had a huge, hard lump, just hanging out. So I lay there, in silence, well…mostly silence, except for every 5 seconds when I was yelling at your kitten brother who was desperate to stand on my stomach (and very full bladder). But your lumpy self wouldn’t move. By this time, your dad woke up, rolled over and put his hand on said lump, but you still would.not.move. Stubborn. Just like mom and dad in the morning! Let’s hope that once you’re out, you’re still keen on resting in the morning…I guess I won’t hold my breath on that one, though.
I also lay in silence, thinking about our last few days not knowing whether you are pink or blue. I’m feeling slightly sentimental about it, because it has been fun to not know, and I see the desire of others now to keep the secret until birth, but at the same time, I’m still so excited to learn a little more about your identity in a few days (four, to be exact, but who’s counting?). But the little mystery has been a fun one.
This is your last letter (likely) before you’re no longer an it! Crazy how time flies. Quit growing up so fast already!