An Advance Apology To The Bump -The Tiny Person In My Womb For All The Things I’m Pretty Sure I’ve Already Messed Up.
Dear Little Bean,
How’s it going in there? You’re kicking more these days, I notice – it’s kinda hard not
to notice – and I get the feeling you’re itching to be out here, with me. I can’t wait to meet you!
But before that time comes, before I’m too distracted by you wanting milk, or crying, or trying to talk or crawl, or by myself being even more exhausted than I already am, I wanted to apologize.
I have messed up. Big time. And I’m worried we’ll never get over it. I’ve made a list, little one, and, at some point – I know – you’re going to want this. Probably when you’re a teenager and you need an outlet. Or when you hit your twenties, and you’re coming to terms with your first existential crisis.
Please, if you can, forgive me. I’m doing my best out here, I swear. I really am.
- I haven’t painted your bedroom a decent color. Actually, in all honesty, I haven’t painted it at all. When I found out I was having you I picked out some calming swatches from the store, but I’ve been kind of rushed off my feet and then I figured ‘You’re a baby – you won’t care.’ Does that sound as callous as I think it does???
- The name I’m considering probably won’t be for you. It sounds good to me, really good, but I haven’t had to name anything since that goldfish I bought in fourth grade. What if you hate the name so much you have to change it by deed poll? I guess I could pay the expenses for you if that happens. But still: THE GUILT
- Occasionally I poke you when you’re sleeping. Not often. But sometimes you go quiet, and I get worried. I hope you can understand, but it must be super annoying
- There’s a seriously creepy teddy bear in your room but I can’t get rid of it yet. Your grandparents gave it to me as a gift, that’s why it’s here. Trust me: bears aren’t supposed to look like that. They’re definitely not supposed to have red eyes. But if Grandma comes over and it’s not in your room, we’ll both be in trouble. I’ll get rid of it ASAP, but realistically, we might be talking a few years at the earliest
- I’ve been playing Taylor Swift on repeat instead of Beethoven’s symphonies. My bad. People told me classical music could be good for your pre-born brain cells, but I wanted something more catchy. I was hoping that Tay Tay wouldn’t be too far off, but if you don’t get into any Ivy League universities down the line this will most likely be why
- I’m going to make you wear these booties, whether you like them or not. They’re so furry! And soft! And cute! If I could wear booties like this I totally would, but the sorry fact is they don’t make them in my size. Looking at the dates, it’ll be summer by the time you’re ready to wear these. Your feet are likely to overheat. And yet, and yet…
- Sometimes, I use the bump you make as a table. It’s getting to be the perfect size for the remote control. Also, I never lose the remote when it’s there. I haven’t put my lunch plate on you yet, but the urge is getting greater by the day
- I blame my craving for pickled eggs on you – but, in truth, I’ve always craved pickled eggs. See also: steak, cotton candy, and anchovies. Though not (necessarily) eaten all together. I can only imagine what this is doing to your still-forming taste buds. Again, I ask your forgiveness
In penance, I promise to stay up late whenever you need me, at all hours of the day; to change your stinky nappies without (much) judgment; to feed, clothe and bathe you for as many years as it takes before you can take over; bankroll your every (affordable) desire; and sing your praises to everyone I meet for as long as we both shall live.
We can see how we go from there. Deal?
Yours forever, and ever,
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