To My Future Child

1/28/15

To my future child,

I can’t wait to meet you.

I don’t know you. Yet. I’m not pregnant. In fact, you’re not even a microscopic twinkle in my eye. I am currently a twenty-three year old college student, and the epitome of sad, stereo-typical, micro-waving-my-dinner-every-night, single as single gets. I’m not ready for you yet, and you’re not ready for me. But; I think about you all the time.

You’re perfect. I don’t know if you will be a boy or a girl, if you will have my green eyes, or if you’ll even have two legs.

 But, I promise, you’re perfect.

Ever since I can remember, I have thought about having children. Even before realizing that I would need a partner-in-crime, a “prince”, a father to my children. I thought about babies and being a Mom. My earliest memories are of rocking my baby dolls until the sun came up.

I know a lot of women say that. I mean, it’s overtly natural to who we are, literally what we are made of. Right? I’ve always just felt an overwhelming pull towards the idea, though. I asked to hold babies as soon as I figured I was old enough. At twelve years old, I was the neighborhood babysitter. I remember being put in charge of kids even just a few years younger than me. Someone once told me, when I was very young, that you had to be eighteen to legally get married. Instantly, I had the plan to fall in love in high school, get married as soon as I could, and have babies as soon as I could. I’m serious. As a young girl, I counted down the years until I was eighteen.

I know, at this point, you are probably laughing. I hope you are. As I write this, I am holding back tears. But, I hope you are laughing.

I didn’t get married at 18. Five years have passed since, and I have no idea how close or how far I am to you. But, that’s ok. It’s ok because I promise once you are here, you will be the most loved little bundle of baby sweetness and cuteness that ever existed.

Right now, though, right now I am thinking about you.

My mind is currently exhausted: from school, from life, from work, from my own emotions. And maybe that’s why I am writing you a letter in the wee early hours of a school night. My floor is covered in laundry, my hair is a disaster, and I physically look as exhausted as I mentally feel.

I know, by the time you will be able to read this, you will know this version of me. I cannot promise you, little one, that there won’t be piles of laundry. Our house won’t be clean 100% of the time, I will probably be grumpy due to sleep deprivation, hunger, or just irritation. I don’t know who your father will be, but I guarantee, no matter how perfect he might be (fingers crossed) he will probably still make me upset sometimes, and you might have to witness it.

That being said, I want to emphasize something to you. Love. I don’t know much about it yet, considering I haven’t laid eyes on you. What I do know, is that I am waiting to let that real love happen for me. I’m not rushing into it, yet, because you deserve time. You deserve the best Mom I can be to you, which is why I am OK with getting a little bit older, a little bit (I think) wiser, and I’m going to take my time finding your dad.

This life has not gone to “plan” for me, and I hope that’s one of the lessons I can pass on to you. I never want you to feel like you have failed if life has taken a change you did not expect. Patience is truly a virtue, and it’s a tough one to really conquer. I used to feel like a failure because it’s taking me so long to find you. And, well, it might take me a lot (A LOT) longer to figure this whole deal out, but I have come to peace with it.

You will be my whole life.

Oh, I’ll still have a career (I’m working my booty off to get it), that I will love, and I swear I will be completely, unfathomly, crazy in love with your dad. I know you’ll see it (and probably be grossed out when we make kissy faces to each other), and however much you possibly could even begin to imagine or think how much I love your dad, will most likely just be the tip of the iceberg of my feelings for him.

But all that gross stuff aside, you will be my whole life, sweet thing. You’ll be my thoughts, my heart, my dreams.

I can’t wait to meet you. But, actually, I can wait. Because, you are worth waiting for.