Internal Letter

Rest assured, there's a lot more to be said about this whole baby brewing thing I've got going on. For now, we interrupt your regularly scheduled ranting blog for something slightly different and much more personal.

I won't say much (did you just choke? Hilarious, I know) but I will say that I have learned the value of being loved by someone with infinite patience and kind words that never falter. Pregnancy is tantamount to being, and here comes my favorite analogy, strapped to a roller coaster. I wish I had never used that comparison before because there is nothing more true than one can say about carrying a baby other than it feels like a god damn amusement park ride. You get buckled in, and regardless of whether you miscalculated the twists and turns or were the most confident bastard who climbed in the front row (asshat), I can assure you you had no idea what you were in for. You will scream, cry, laugh and most importantly, puke. There is no jumping off, partner, and you are not the operator controlling things. To my kind hearted baby daddy (really? yes, I prefer to use that term for my own pure satisfaction), I thank you.

With that being said, here it goes.

An Internal Letter, just for you:

Dear Daddy, 

First of all, let me say, hello! I'm waving right now, and although you can't see it, Mommy can feel it. It's funny sometimes that she doesn't know that all I'm trying to do is get your attention. I wanted to write you a little note before I make my big entrance into your world. 

I like the sound of your voice, and when you sing me songs and play the keyboard for me (who is Adele?) I wish I knew what you look like, but I hear you have a beard (what's that?) and that you're very handsome (father-son high five, that means I'll be handsome, too). Also, I know you have tattoos, and much like your beard I have no idea what those look like but I'm totally cool with coming out with a few (it's dark in here, can you see any when they look at me at the doctors?). 

You know, I can't wait to see you. I'm just warning you, at first I'm probably going to be a little loud and I mean, naked, geez, Mom doesn't produce any pants in here so...yeah. It's ok if you're not sure of what to do because I won't know either. And it won't matter anyway because I already love you and we are like, totally best friends already. I mean, bros, right? Mommy loves you so much, too, and she seems pretty cool. She's got tattoos too, from what I hear and a GREAT rack, which is AWESOME because I'm going to be starving. Helloooooo food truck! 

I just want you to know that I think you're great. You're never too far away, you always hold me and love me so much that I can feel it radiating in here. You tell mommy it's all going to be ok, you kiss her forehead and make her laugh when she worries, which is TOTALLY fun and like a roller coaster ride. 

I have a million questions, like what a movie is, what is the sun, what is an animal and is a snake one? Do I have to shower? Am I going to like vegetables or what? Can I play hockey, whatever it is? Can we always have adventures? 

And I really like the name Hendrick. Crawdad is a neat nickname but one day I'll be in kindergarten and it's just a little too sea-related for me. Just know you can always call me that, just not in front of my friends. 

Daddy, you're incredible. I got lucky to have you as mine. 

I'll see you soon.