first letter

First Ultrasound; almost 8 weeks

Dear little baby,

You are the size of a grape, or a raspberry, depending on which website I consult.  The ultrasound technician who took your first picture told us you are about the size of an adult’s pinky nail.  That seems smaller than a fruit to me.  We saw you for the first time just a few days ago.  Daddy and I both took time off work and went to the hospital and I held my breath while a super nice lady put jelly on my belly.  I held my breath while she pushed a wand around and the screen was black and white and there all sorts of clumps on the screen.  Then we saw a little flicker.  That flicker was your heartbeat.  I breathed and it felt like the first time I had breathed since I saw that I was pregnant.  Your heart was beating, and the technician said it was a good strong heartbeat.  Most moms and dads don’t get to see pictures of their babies so early, and I felt so lucky while the technician took lots of pictures and measured you a few different times.  Then she held the wand still and said we might see you move.  You were so tiny and the screen was so dark that I thought we would never be able to see anything at all, but just a second later, you wiggled.  YOU WIGGLED!  Daddy and I both saw it at the same time, and we laughed, delighted.  It was amazing.

The technician told me to go to the bathroom (I had to drink lots of water so the ultrasound would work) and I shut the door and started crying.  I was so relieved that you were safe, so amazed that you were REAL, so proud to have a picture of you to send to Nana and Grandpa and Grammy and Grampy.   Our family is big and full of love.  Your aunts and uncle have been so excited.  Your cousins are planning what outfits they want to buy for you and packing up their baby toys to share.  You are the first grandchild on both sides of the family, and by the time you are here, you will only be the third great-grandchild.  You are going to be terribly spoiled.  You will never learn to walk, the way you will be squeezed and held.  Our arms are already waiting for you.

The day after your first picture, Daddy and I started telling people you were coming.  We couldn’t keep our joy a secret for one more second.  Our friends are so happy.  We can talk about you and plan for you and you give me the most wonderful excuses to eat lots of yummy foods (if I get hungry then my tummy gets really sick) and to rest and read and watch TV.  You have made the love that Daddy and I share bigger.  You are already a miracle.  I already love you more than I understand.

I’ll talk to you again soon.

Love, your Mama

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “first letter

  1. Ashlie,

    I just want to say CONGRATULATIONS on your pregnancy!!!! Laurel sent me your blog and I started crying reading this. It is so beautiful. You’re going to be the best mom.

    Love, Ali

  2. Dear Baby Kauffman-Swicker,

    I know that you already have three aunts anxiously awaiting your arrival, who will no doubt love you and kiss you and cherish you more than you can possibly imagine, but if you have space in your little raspberry-sized heart for another pseudo-aunt (or two), I would love to be able to be a part of your life.

    The world can be a scary place, but you will be sheltered and loved and protected by many people. Yours will be a life of sunflowers and country kitchens and warm, cozy laps.

    You are so very loved.

    Yours,

    (Auntie?) Adrienne

  3. What a wonderful way to prepare for your baby, Ashlie. Your words are so perfect and touching. The thought of this baby-to-be puts me in a dream-like state. It brings me back to thoughts of “firsts”–the first time I saw Benjamin’s sweet face, his first words, his first steps, his first Star War’s guy. Now there will be new firsts and in time for his/her first Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas! I just can’t wait…and I LOVE YOU!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s