Dear Baby Sorensen,
I was secretly hoping I wouldn’t have to write you this letter, and that instead I could just talk to you in real human life form. Tomorrow is our due date. 40 Weeks. 280 days. This is supposed to be the end, don’t you know?
You are 18-22 inches long, and weigh between 7-8 ish pounds. You are likely prepared for the outside world now- you can blink, suck, inhale and exhale. I know it isn’t very much to know, and I promise I will teach you a lot more stuff if you just please promise to come out. I’m doing everything I can to encourage this- walking and bouncing and all sorts of things- but you don’t seem to be getting the hint.
I’m sitting here awake earlier than usual today- you see, I’m having a little trouble sleeping. I know that it seems like carrying around another whole human being would be nice and soft and squishy but you are large and bony and heavy. Never before in my life have I been so consumed by something so exciting and life changing as your birth. I think about you all day long, what you will look like, if you will have my nose, if your eyelashes will be fluffy. I think about you when running errands, I think about you when I walk past your nursery. I dream about you at night, about what it will be like when you get here.
Someday when you are all fancy and grown up, you will read all of these letters that I have been writing you. I hope you know how much that we love you, how much we want you in our family, and how excited we are for your arrival. I can already tell that you have a feisty spirit and some serious spunk and you will fit in perfectly here.
Please, please, please, I am begging you, don’t give me the opportunity to write a 41 Week letter. Mom will not be a happy camper.
See you soon. xoxoxo
PS Just to recap: You may come out at any point now. Anytime is good for us. Anytime.