By the way, your nickname right now is Poppy (because you're the size of a poppyseed). And if you're a boy, I'm extra sorry about that, but we can just pretend it was pronounced "Popeye." 

Eric thinks there are two of you. Whomever you are, I love you deeply. And your dad? He loves you a crazy amount, too. Hearing him talk about you is the best. 

I told my sister and her husband about you lastnight. She was as shocked as I was and also as excited as ever. You are going to have the coolest, most fun, weird and fearless aunt in the world. 

Your grandparents are going to freak out tonight when we tell them.

I want you to always know that you have an entire army of people standing behind you and rooting for you. Whether you like us all the time or not, we are always going to be here for you.

I also want you to know that your family (on both mine and your father's side), is pretty weird, but the best, weirdest weird you'll ever know. So get ready for a lot of fun.

I've been too scared to write about you because I'm so scared of losing you. Is this what motherhood is all about? But today, when Eric told me to start writing, I knew I had to. I knew I'd regret not writing about you later on. I knew I had to face my fears and by facing my fears, 
I accept you.

I don't know if you'll ever read these words and I don't entirely know if the person I imagine in my head is you or some variant of me. I guess it's both. I feel cramping but nothing comes out, so I know you are still with me. 

I've always accepted you though and I always will. I just don't entirely know how to care for a child in a world where so much chaos happens, but I remember my dream and what God told me. I'm not to worry; you will change the world. And I know, I just know that there is Someone Greater than you or I and that your purpose here is very specific. It's beyond me, and I know that even though I am your mother, I will have to let you go and trust that God will take care of you when I can't. And, I will trust that you can take care of yourself, too, because that is how I will raise you. 

I will raise you to be strong.
I will raise you to be fearless.
I will raise you to ask questions.
I will raise you to be kind.
I will raise you to do the right thing, even though sometimes the right thing will hurt. 
I will raise you to trust God.

I pray I can carry you these next 9 months. 
I have known of your existence for only 4 days, and already, you will always be a part of me. 

Eric asked me today why I don't start writing about this experience. It's been four days since I found out about you and I realized, I haven't written anything being I am scared. 

Our next doctor's appointment was going to be with a fertility specialist. I already knew what they were going to tell us (medical intervention, statistics, etc., etc.,). I also knew it was going to take awhile for you to come because a month after Eric and I got married, God told me in a dream. He told me not to worry about the timing of your arrival or to worry about the horrible things happening in this world. He also told me that you would change the world. 

I canceled the appointment with the fertility specialist and yesterday, I walked into the doctor's office to take another test. She asked me how I would feel if the test came back positive. I told her I'd be happy and also very shocked. I took the test and a few minutes later she handed me a piece of paper: positive. You're positive; you're here. 

I bought your dad a book last week called, "Hector the Collector." It's a children's book and I felt absolutely crazy buying it. The book reminded me so much of your dad when I read it, and as I handed the lady my credit card, I knew that by buying this book I was taking a huge step of faith. I hadn't asked God before, I just felt compelled. It was an act of faith that you were going to come into this world. I got home, I gave it to your dad. I explained to him that I knew this was a strange gift, a children's gift when we didn't even know how or if we'd be able to get pregnant, but that I wanted him to read it to you one day. He didn't seem to understand at the time, but we read it together anyway. We laughed at how much Hector the collector is just like your dad. And I hoped that one day you'd be like him maybe. That was last Friday, September 1st, 12017. 


And so, here we are. 

It had been months–no–it had been almost two years. 

I woke up early for work, September 6th, 2017, and stumbled into the bathroom half awake. I had dreamt that night that I should take a test in the morning and so I did. I took one test and stared. It couldn't be. I took another test. My mind felt like a cloud. Was this a dream? I took a third, and still, a second line appeared. 

My heart felt giddy but my mind was so confused. I woke up my husband–it was barely 6 am. Seeing the light appear in his eyes as I said those words (I think I'm pregnant), was the most magical thing. 

Still unconvinced (after 20 months of trying, countless doctors appointments, tests, procedures, frustration, tears), I went to the store and bought another test, this time, a different brand. This time, instead of a second line appearing that I could say is possibly a mistake, the word "pregnant" appeared. And I knew it was real. 

And so, here you are. 


(Sorry about the morning hair.)