Week 29 - Loving the Changes

Dear Kaylee,

Welcome to the home stretch, the third trimester. For me, it’s been absolutely astounding to watch your mother’s belly swell, to think of you in there making all of these preparations for life on the outside. I find myself talking to you every day now, singing silly songs, asking your opinion on what to do about dinner, and saying hello to you whenever you start to kick. The website I visit to learn what you’re doing each week isn’t providing nearly as much information anymore, so, left to my own devices, I’m having to imagine what you might be doing in there, how big you might be growing, and whether or not you’re enjoying your parents taste in music. We were watching a Sarah McLachlan DVD the other day and I told you, through the belly, that you were to like her and that that was to be the end of it. But, all the while, I was thinking to myself, “Oh, if instilling her with a good musical taste was only that simple.”

All this week we were making preparations for Christmas. With little money in our coffers, your mother and I ended up making almost everything that we gave out this year. For my grandmother, your Great Grandma, your mom cross-stitched a Christmas stocking adorned with cardinals, Grandma’s favorite bird. For my brother, your Uncle John, your mom had crafted an afghan. And for my parents, your Grandma and Grandpa, your mother and I spent a great deal of time on Friday night futzing around with our digital camera, trying to get just the right picture for a frame we’d bought them to showcase your ultrasound picture, your mom’s belly, and, eventually, you. It was a lot of work, but we were pretty sure that everyone would love what they received.

The rumor was that there would be plenty of gifts under the tree for you, as well. And so it was that we approached the holiday with an even greater sense of excitement than we had in years gone by. Already, even though you were still inside your mom’s belly, you were changing the way we operated, the way we looked at something like Christmas, a tradition that, by our age, you kind of think you’ve got all figured out.

And we were loving the changes, Kay. We were loving them.

Love, Dad

LettersE. Christopher Clark