Dear Baby T:
Now that we know we're having a baby girl, I can write you this letter (I mean, obviously, you will get these things better than say, if you were a boy). I found out about you on Oct. 28, 2010. Your parents sent me a birthday package scribbled with "do NOT open until you call me" all over it. Because I am obedient, I did what I was told and immediately called. Your mom sat there while I opened the package and never said a word while I mused about this purple get up being an outfit for Pete. I literally wondered out loud "why pete got something" and why I was confused that your parents' cats would send Pete an outfit on MY birthday. And then...I got it. I was overcome with emotion. I screamed. I cheered. I sounded like a boy in puberty. I cried. I could not believe it. My best friend, your mom, was having you. I've always said your parents' marriage consisted of three: them and me. And now our family of 3 was becoming a family of 4. I've had friends have babies before, there have been babies born to very close family members of mine, but this time it's different. You are the FIRST baby born to the group of people who make up my best friends. You are the baby we will fuss over and practice with and adapt our friendship with. You are the end of what was and the beginning of what we will be. You are our first babe!
I met your mom in college (so, we're looking at 10 yrs of friendship here). We were both in this ridiculous sorority and quickly became friends. We spent countless hours laying in her top bunk bed with binoculars spying on cute boys in the other buildings. We spent Wednesday evenings together watching reality tv and Jessica Simpson. My college friends considered her an honorary Meredith Angel and people still think she graduated with us. Once, I bought a self waxing kit and was too afraid to try it. So your mom tried it - she has always been much braver than I. Her blood curdling screams caused quite the commotion on my dorm floor. When I moved into my first apartment, your mom would come over and we would cook and gossip and eat. We ate a lot of pizza, especially Papa John's BBBQ Hawaiian Chicken Pizza. And drank lots of Boone's Farm Strawberry Wine. It was our favorite. I helped put together outfits for her fashion shows and she helped me decorate my apartment. We moved in together and had the cutest apartment on the block. Of course, she painted the whole thing herself then forced me to help her paint it back. We would dance for our creepo neighbor Don, convinced he watched us through the vents in her bathroom. We helped each other through crazy relationship drama (thank God neither of us are with those boys nowadays) and watched lots of Lifetime. I blamed a lot of scandalous things I did on her and she played a lot of tricks on me (someday, ask her about the lottery). We even somehow decided my brother's best friend was stalking her and confronted him about it. We were wrong. But it was funny. We became cat ladies together and grew into who we are now together.
Your mom moved back to our hometown before I did (yes, we grew up in the same place and knew the same people but never knew each other until college). She had a bad experience when she moved back, and then I moved back and went through the same thing. I never wanted to move back but I know the Lord placed her there so when I came back, she could help me. She introduced me to her new group of friends and the 6 of us took on the town together. Every weekend was spent together, chasing boys and chasing dreams. I was there the night your parents met...I mean, they knew each other from years ago but this was the night their worlds really collided. It was full steam ahead from that point on and now, just two years later, we know we're bringing a girl home in May. I talked to your dad just last week and I asked him what he would do if you turned out to be a girl. He was quiet for a minute and then he said "honestly, I have no idea." That makes me smile because like all dads, of course he has no idea. But, you're lucky because you are going to have one hell of a dad. Your mom and I have that in common, and now you will join our club (which unfortunately but realistically is very small): we have very, very good dads. As you grow, you will understand how integral a good dad is to your livelihood.
Your mom is quite a bird and because of her, I know these things about you already: you will be smart. you will be witty. you will be loyal. you will be tender hearted. you will probably not cry a lot (unless this whole emotional thing your mom has going on sticks around). you will be tiny. you will have a lot of shoes and a lot of clothes and when I can't find her, I will probably call you for fashion advice. you will know how to make your eye makeup really pop. you will have a lot of thick, long hair but we don't know what color it will be. (I've never seen your mom's natural color so this is very exciting to see what happens with your head). You will be devoted. And as long as you are a Republican, you will be surrounded by love. (I only half kid here).
Just the other day, your mom was telling me what it was like to feel you dance and I said "how can people not think that is a LIFE? a HUMAN?!" you see, we live in a world where some people believe life begins at birth, not at conception. I've only known about you for a little over two months and there is no doubt about it that you are alive. Alive and kicking and thriving and growing. You are a part of us. Our lives are already changed and enriched because of you. Baby T...I can't even tell you what I already feel about you. I'm already your number 1 fan. I can't wait to snuggle you, to hold your tiny fingers and count your perfect toes. I can't wait to babysit you for free. I can't wait to teach you to say inappropriate things and play tricks on your parents like they've played on me (maybe you'll get my gullibleness! it will make you a lot more fun). I can't wait to teach you and watch you learn and grow. I can't wait to share with you the things that I cherish from my childhood: tea parties, lace socks and saddle oxfords, baby dolls, ruffle panties, rocking chairs. I can't wait to see who you become. Babies really are miracles and a true expression of God's love. Max Lucado writes:
The next time you hear a baby laugh or see an ocean wave, take note. Pause and listen as His Majesty whispers ever so gently, “I’m here.”
I am so excited to teach you about your Heavenly Father and watch you grow in Him and become the woman of God you are meant to be. You are a daughter of the greatest Kingdom. And you don't even know it yet.
We are going to have so much fun Baby T. and if your mom is lucky, we'll let her play with us too.