In our time

To my son,

We only have six days to go until you're "full term" little one. Our time wholly together grows short. But I'll tell you a secret: part of me doesn't want to share you with the world. I have a strong desire to keep you all to myself. As you are now, only I can feel your every movement. Only I know your waking and sleeping, and only I have any sense of who you are.

But to keep you to myself so exclusively, while in part a beautiful idea to me, limits you. You must be loved and known by others. You must be separated from me to exercise your individuality, to become a little person, to grow. It's just that now I realize birth is so much more than a physical pain; it is the first pain of separation.

I've actually really loved being pregnant with you. I've loved the doubleness, curiosity, wonder, movement, and importance you've brought into my life. I've enjoyed how you have complicated my being and sense of self. I've cherished how you have made me feel connected to life. Living inside me, you have made me feel maybe for the first time, really not alone. You've also helped me more fully understand the connectedness I have with my own mother, and you've enabled me to return to her in a sense with new found appreciation for what she did for me. In a way we were once all together. Even when I was a baby in her womb, I already had the egg inside me that would, in part, someday become you. It's just further proof that love has a long line of connectedness, even if we must eventually exist apart to obtain our greater potential.

Then I think about who you will be-- of getting to know you. And this part of me is eager to bring you into the world and meet you. I wonder what color your hair and eyes will be, if you will have J.D.'s hairline, his smile, or his facial shape. I wonder which of my features will be visible. I grow excited to feel your weight in my arms and touch your soft baby skin, to smell your baby scent and spend hours amazed, playing with your tiny toes and fingers, tickling you, kissing you, and watching you grow. I think your father and I will find a great deal of pleasure in seeing you become yourself. And I want to see him hold you and love you as much as I already do. Right now you are still only partially real for him, but when you are born you will immediately have his whole heart too. And this is why, most of all, you must be born.

But for the moment, still grow and thrive inside me. The truth is you will always be mine to love. The rest of the world will just have to wait a little longer.