the last page

As you know, I've been keeping a scrapbook of my entire pregnancy. My niece Caroline inspired it, since she gets such a kick out of pregnant pictures of my sister and her own ultrasound photos. Plus, this is my chance to really document everything as it is happening. Unfortunately, the refill pages for my scrapbook are no longer being carried by any retailer I can find. I even called the company and they were essentially useless. "Michaels carries them, but hasn't put in an order in over one year." Thanks, that was helpful. So, as I wind down to the end of my pregnancy, I have accepted that I have one last page in this book. And for my last page, I decided against more pregnancy photos (there must be one for every week in there) or another story about a doctor's appointment or baby class. I decided it was best to tell her everything I'll wish I had said or thought of or written down before she was here. And here's how that last page looks:


Your daddy and I have now waited 231 days to meet you, and we have another two weeks to go. Because my doctor visits have shown that I am not dilated or effaced, Dr. Doeden is pretty sure you don’t have to come out on your own. If that is the case, you will be induced on August 12th, which is Sadie’s birthday, and one week exactly before our third wedding anniversary. We are ready. I promise that we’ll try our hardest to be good parents, to do what is right, not necessarily what is easy. And, above all, we will always love you, no matter what. Always remember to treat other people as you would like to be treated. Do something because you want to, not because you fear you will regret not trying it. Never settle on love. Animals and children are vulnerable and innocent – protect them. Do nice things without the expectation of thanks and appreciation. Don't base someone's worth on wealth. Never stop learning and doing and trying. Order off a menu based on taste, not price. Spend your twenties selfishly – go to school, travel, live, learn, sleep late. Choose your vices wisely. Learn the art of sarcasm (ask your aunt Jessica for help on this one). Know one really good clean joke. Believe in fate, but don’t rely on it. Learn how to give a handshake correctly. Always call your parents on their birthdays.

I hope Baby B gets a kick out of this book as much as I do. And I hope we look at it together, years from now, and it reminds me of exactly how it felt the first time I ever became someone's mommy. Not just the act of birth, but the long nine month journey to get to that one moment where she becomes real. When I become mommy and the hub becomes daddy and she becomes our daughter.