Dear Baby;

Dear Baby;

You are nearly 15 weeks in the making, that’s only 25 weeks until I meet you. I know 25 weeks will just fly by and you will be here before I know it. It seems weird that I have such strong, emotional feelings for you, something so small that’s only a few inches long. It’s so strange, people keep telling me everything will work out, things have a way of working themselves out and not to stress, but I feel I have no control or anything. No control over my body, it’s just getting bigger, my life anymore everything is going to change in a few short months when you arrive. I still don’t know how to love you, how to feel about you. I just want a sign, to know that everything will be alright, we will be alright. I think things would be a lot easier if you daddy was in our lives. I know it’s not going to be great growing up with just a mom – me as a mom. I wish there was some way he would come back, I know that somehow he does love you, he will love you. I have to believe that. I have to believe that I will love you too. I started painting your room, then couldn’t finish. The paint just seemed so permanent, that room wouldn’t be the same after it. It was like a metaphor about you in my life. I don’t want you to ever feel unloved, unappreciated, or that I never wanted you. It’s hard to explain all my feelings, to tell you that they were all lies or just pregnancy emotions. I know most of them are and I’ll move past them. But deep, deep down I’m worried that it’s actually telling me something. Maybe I’m not ready to love like this yet, take on the challenge. Maybe I’ll only let you down, maybe you deserve better than all of this, and maybe this was just one big mistake.  Maybe I should stop taking chances that what’s gotten me here. Maybe I should just listen to that little voice in my head for once, do the sensible thing. Give up and close this chapter? But then I think about you, I talk to you and somehow I feel a tiny bit closer to you, just somehow I feel like you’re here for a reason, one I really don’t understand. I just wish things would make sense, be black and white. Baby I feel horrible every day, please give me something to believe in again!

-Lori (your mommy)